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#please be warned about what this woman is doing
five-bi-five-mind · 2 days
Note
PLEASE MAKE SUGAR MOMMY!WANDA. It can be when she already left Westview and is now living a lonely life alone missing her children. Then there goes new neighbor R who just left home and is struggling financially OMG!
I loved every single one of your Wanda fics and I'll never shut up about it 👀
Everything Again
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Wanda Maximoff & fem!Reader
Genre: Smut & Dark-ish fic
Words: 8K+
Summary: Wanda has nothing in her life that brings her joy once she let go of Westview, but then she meets you. She makes sure to be everything you want and need, and you’re all she needs… for a while. But what happens when some of her wants from Westview come creeping back? Can Wanda suppress it or will she do whatever it takes to have everything she wants again?
Warnings: light stalking, not the healthiest relationship, Wanda is controlling, toxic!Wanda, mind manipulation, top!Wanda, bottom!R, rough sex, magic strap-on, slight breeding kink, degradation, magic restraints, light choking, slight dubcon, maybe possibly unknown risk of pregnancy but no actual pregnancy.
A/N: I hate this title but I couldn't think of a better one... Anyways I kinda took a dark turn with this request that's my bad. Enjoy folks!
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When Wanda saw you, she knew she had to have you. It was like the stars aligned all of a sudden and a splash of color came into her bleak world for once since leaving Westview. She’d been wandering all over since that… incident. All she felt for months was this horrible, nagging, hollowness and she had no idea how to solve it. Part of her wondered if she filled this void with something to at least stave off the boredom, maybe it would be better. But so far, her only method of occupying her time was figuring out the scope of her power. And every time she dabbled with that it just felt like the hole inside her ripped open even deeper. 
She had made her way to a small college town when she bumped into you. Or, more accurately, when you smacked into her, your eyes glued to your phone at the time. When your body collided with Wanda’s she felt anger bubble inside her for a moment and that familiar tingle at her fingertips as she decided how she might act in response to your inconsideration.  But when your panicked eyes looked up at hers, suddenly it was like the fuse inside her was doused with ice cold water. 
Wanda couldn’t help but smirk at your immediate apologetic response once you realized you were now fully pressed against an utter stranger. At the time, you were so panicked over the email you had just received that you forgot to look up. But when you felt strong hands bracing your elbows as you hit another person’s body like hitting a brick wall, it brought you crashing into reality. The guilt and embarrassment you felt were burning on your cheeks, but the eyes that met yours were only angry for a brief moment. After yours locked with hers they shifted from anger to surprise and then, curiously enough for the both of you, to intrigue. 
“I– I am so sorry,” you sputtered as you attempted to take a step back. Key word there was attempted. To your confusion, the woman in front of you didn’t seem to want to let go. 
It surprised Wanda too, but not in a bad way. The moment she heard your voice things lit up even more. That splash of color turned into a sea and she didn’t want to let go just yet. Her hands wrapped tighter around your elbows and for a moment she didn’t even care that it could possibly startle you. She just knew that for some odd reason, having you, this wide-eyed, terrified random girl she bumped into on the street, was bringing part of her back to life in a way. 
“Are you okay?” Wanda still didn’t let go. If anything, she pulled you ever so slightly closer as she swore she could feel your heartbeat like crazy against her own chest.  
“Oh, um, yes.” You again attempted to take a step back. “Thank you, um…”
“Wanda,” she replied and finally dropped her hold on you. It didn’t go unseen– the disappointed frown she had for a moment as you took a wide step back. 
“Wanda,” you echoed. “I’m sorry about that. I should’ve watched where I was going. Are you alright?” Your head tilted and your eyebrows scrunched as you asked her that and Wanda was taken aback for a moment that you even thought to ask. It had been so long since she was asked anything if she were being honest.
“What made you so distracted?” Wanda ignored your question and chose to ask one of her own. She didn’t even know you, but she realized she suddenly wanted to learn everything about you, starting with what had you so wrapped up in a tiny screen that you ran straight into another human being. 
“Oh…” Your eyes dropped to the ground and Wanda took note of the way you shuffled nervously in front of her. “Um, nothing just– It wasn’t something that should’ve distracted me like that. I’m sorry for running into you.” You were trying to go at this point. The way this stranger was looking at you had you anxious and you had no idea why. The fact that she was also asking you this rather than just going on her own way also made you feel self-conscious and scrutinized by the woman before you. 
Wanda just blinked back at you, the frown on her face showing yet again for a moment. Your eyes searched hers and the confusion in them grew. Did this total stranger really want to know your business? If you were to say it out loud to her, surely you would seem pathetic. But she still stood, waiting for you to answer what was so important that you completely missed the person standing still as you walked right into her.
“Okay,” you sighed, “I got an email about my funding. I’m a– Or I guess was a student here. My funding got pulled. No funding means no grad school… So I have to figure that out, I guess.” 
There was a moment of silence as Wanda just stared down at you. Her facial expression was impossible to read for a moment. It was pensive, almost neutral and you waited for any sort of response to her. 
“I’ll figure it out,” you continued for whatever reason. Trying to fill the silence as Wanda just kept staring. “There’s other programs, other schools. I can apply again.”
“I’m sure it will all work out,” Wanda finally said. She put her hand on your shoulder for a moment, trailing it over you as she finally began to walk past you. When her hand left you and she went her own way, you just stood there stunned. 
You thought that encounter with her would plague your mind for days, but as if a switch had flipped suddenly that strangeness that was filling your mind faded into nothing.
—---------------------------------
That encounter may have left you utterly confused, but to Wanda it made things so clear. She finally had a plan, something to do. She was wandering aimlessly since Westview with nothing to fill the time. She had said she would find her children again in some dimension, somewhere, but for she had no real leads. She was losing hope, she was spiraling– That is until you bumped into her.
The gears in Wanda’s mind began to turn the minute you confessed to why you were so distracted that fateful day. And ever since then, she was going to put a plan into motion. First, she had to learn just a little bit more about you. But it wouldn’t do if you suddenly left the place she had found you in, so she tweaked some things. Starting with an anonymous donation to your department (of which she found quite quickly from just a few days of watching you) so that they might be able to fund their graduate students– Specifically you– and that you might be able to stay and continue your research and studies while she worked on a way to draw you closer to her. 
After a few weeks of watching you, she quickly learned that despite her donation, they didn’t give you enough funding to comfortably live on. You ran from job to job when you weren’t on campus studying and Wanda quickly decided, if you were to be her new fixation, then having multiple jobs would not do. You had her undivided attention, so now she wanted the majority of yours. She decided you could have your studies, but the rest of you… The rest of you she was going to make hers. 
It only took her a few more weeks after watching you carefully to approach you again. One thing about her new powers was that, rather than captivating a whole town like she did with Westview, she could easily– and with a lot less catastrophic damage– erase a small part of people’s memories. Namely, their memory that Wanda even existed in the first place. It wasn’t possible for the whole world to forget her, but a small college town she definitely could handle. Just another reason to keep you inside this town and not let you wander much further. With her handle on this new aspect of her own power, she took it one step further with you, erasing the very first day you two met. That day would always replay in Wanda’s mind, but she knew it confused and frightened you and she needed to paint herself in the best light possible when she finally approached you face-to-face again.
It was quite easy to approach you this time too. She posed as a professor in your own university. She twisted and turned the minds of the university until it was as if she had been there a long time. An established part of a university department outside of your own. She knew your schedule too, so she knew that you would always sit at the corner of the university coffee shop for about an hour in between classes. That’s where she finally approached you– or, to be more accurate, she made you approach her.
She almost felt bad about it, but at the same time she knew it would be her way in. She knew your eyes would be buried in a book as you walked to your usual spot and she used that moment to use an invisible force to trip you. And, like the knight in shining armor she wanted to appear to you as, she swooped in front of you and caught you skillfully. 
The first look you gave her was back on your face this time too. The panic and embarrassment that burned in your cheeks as you looked up at your savior was evident on your face. Wanda gave you the best, charming smile she could muster, but if you were being honest it made you feel almost as if you were a fly that landed right in a spider’s web. 
“Are you okay?” Wanda said the same line to you and you nodded, immediately trying to apologize like last time. 
Wanda knew by now that this was your personality. You were shy and anxious, but also patient and kind. All the things that were the opposite of how she considered herself and all the things that had her captivated by you. 
“Yeah, I– I’m good,” you again tried to step back and this time Wanda let you. “I’m so sorry! Thank you for catching me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Wanda chuckled as her hands fell to her sides. “What are you reading? Must be interesting.” The crooked smile she gave you was what finally drew you in. It was charming and warm and the way her eyes sparkled had you wanting to see more. When Wanda took in the wide, curious eyes looking back at her she knew she had you. 
And that was really all it took for her to wrap you up in her web and never let you go.
—------------------------------------------------
In the following months things happened rather quickly. After the day you had officially met Wanda, you saw her way more often. She would always sit near you at the coffee shop, or bump into you on other parts of campus, until finally you two established a date. And from that date things happened even quicker. It was like you blinked and suddenly your whole life was wrapped up in Wanda’s. You quickly said goodbye to your rundown, tiny apartment and moved into Wanda’s extravagant house right outside of town. Instead of taking the city bus to and from campus, she was driving you whenever and wherever you needed to go. There was now a lot more free time in your life to focus on both your studies and this new relationship you found yourself in with Wanda, as she had insisted you quit your job. That she would take care of every single one of your wants and needs. And how could you say no to that? Although, it was all a little too fast for your comfort, if you were being honest, but at the same time it was Wanda… You couldn’t picture your life without her from the very moment you met her and she made it clear that she intended for you to never find out what it would be like without her in it. 
She took care of you, she took care of everything. You needed only to focus on two things: her and school. Wanda loved the passion you had for studying, so she let you keep one thing outside of her. But she was still near, even if you weren’t aware. She was always near. 
But as months stretched on and her attachment to you became even stronger, things shifted a bit. She was feeling… anxious. The life she had back in Westview began to pop up in her mind again and she felt that hole inside her chest once more– The one that you had filled when she first saw you. There was only one part of her Westview life that kept running through her mind though. It wasn’t Vision. No, it was never Vision. Not when she had you. You were a brighter light in her life than Vision ever had been. A deeper love that felt soft and gentle, even if she had orchestrated a lot of events in order to make the two of you happen. 
Vision wasn’t what kept her up lately. It was her boys. There were dreams of them, flashes of them in her daily life. It was almost as if the more she loved you, the more she missed them. You had healed this wound, but in the nights that you wrapped your arms around her and fell asleep, she felt that familiar tug she had in Westview– the one that longed for a family. A life of peace and completeness. That made the wound feel fresh again. 
So Wanda began to withdraw. She wasn’t going to let you go, but for now, as she contemplated these feelings and how to fix them, she needed time and distance. Each time you smiled at her, each time you kissed her, that tug in the pit of her stomach felt stronger and stronger. The longing grew– The thought of recreating a Westview with you was tempting. But she knew how well that worked out last time. 
Late at night when this longing grew particularly strong, Wanda would sneak away when you were fast asleep to contemplate her options. She had hoped that you wouldn’t notice her withdrawal, but when your whole world was Wanda… How could you not? 
As these days of dealing with a withdrawn Wanda stretched on, you were getting restless. Something was clearly bothering Wanda and it was causing a rise of anxiety in you. At first you tried to approach it gently, but Wanda iced you out. The problem grew and Wanda warned you not to poke at it, but you couldn’t just leave it be. 
With your life being filled with Wanda now– Her withdrawing left you painfully lonely. So you began pushing unspoken limits Wanda set for you. Fights started and time and time again Wanda would shut you down. 
The more she did so, the more it felt she was putting you on the shelf. Like you were her little play thing and she was bored of you. There was an ache in you that you didn’t quite understand and the more confusion she left you with the closer you were to being utterly done. How you could even live without Wanda, you weren’t sure, but you were almost a little tempted to figure it out. 
There was no way you could ever leave Wanda, though. You didn’t want to, even if she was withdrawn, you still loved her deeply. But you wanted attention, acknowledgement, anything. 
Unfortunately for you, the only way you knew how to get that was to push her buttons more and more each day. 
You had no idea what was going through Wanda’s mind, but she had been particularly aggravated lately. What you didn’t know was that Wanda was stuck in trying to find the solution to the feelings that were plaguing her. She had played with an idea, but knew that in order to do so she would out her true nature and risk the memories she took from you to come flooding back. What would you do then, if you remembered who Wanda was? Her name was all over the news and the whole world knew she had fallen far from where she was when she helped the avengers. That was so long ago to Wanda. It was a different time, a different her. One that didn’t know her potential and didn’t know her own heart until she finally found all the pieces. 
The problem was, she’s never had all those pieces all at the same time. She wanted you and her boys. She wanted the picture perfect family that she had in Westview, but she wanted it with you this time. She wanted you as her little housewife and mother of her twins. In the past week she had been engrossed in ways to make that happen. She had a theory that if she tried to create her children again it would be the same children she once had. All she needed was to share her DNA in some way with you and a little bit of magic to add to that. Then, all would be right in her eyes if she had them in this way. For whatever reason, she felt that that was the true way the universe was meant to be. If she built this family with you, then it would never be taken from her ever again. The tricky part was actually creating them with you in a way that didn’t have you questioning how it was even scientifically possible. That would have you questioning a lot about who she is and what she could do. And she didn’t want to ruin what she established with you just yet. Even if the more you pushed at her the more she was tempted to say let go of her control.
She knew you were getting fed up with it too and the more you pushed her the more she contemplated letting her resolve slip. She tried her best to keep you at arms length while she tried to figure out her predicament. But she was feeling stuck with no alternative other than to reveal herself and what she could do. She kept going in circles to feel less stuck, but the more stuck she felt with this problem the angrier she was. And unfortunately, the angrier she was the easier it was for you to push her buttons. 
Unfortunately for the both of you, it only took one final push for her to actually snap. When you thought of Wanda breaking, you thought it would mean she would be forced to talk to you. Never did you expect the outcome of your plans that night. 
Your classmates had invited you out for drinks and, since you met Wanda, your answer was usually no. But tonight things were different. Wanda was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she didn’t pick you on campus. She was kind enough to warn you to take an Uber and she would pay, but you were still angry about it. So when you were invited out, you said yes. 
Saying anything other than no would’ve already irritated Wanda. Even a maybe. She didn’t like the idea of you going out to bars, especially without her. Usually if you wanted to do something with anyone else you’d at least ask her and she would be nearby to make sure you were safe and no one was tempted to take advantage of the time she was allowing them to have alone with you. But this time, you weren’t even going to ask. You were just going to go. Something you hadn’t done since before Wanda.
You knew what you were doing. It was all entirely intentional. Right down to the outfit you picked and the way you walked past Wanda, making just enough noise to get some of her attention. Even if she didn’t look up at you.
“Where are you going?” Wanda asked as she flipped a page of a strange book she was reading.
“Out,” you muttered. Even if Wanda wasn’t looking at you, you wanted your tone to register that you were rolling your eyes at her. The fact that she didn’t even look up just pissed you off even more. 
“I’m not planning to leave the house tonight.” She still wasn’t looking at you and that just made your hands ball into fists as you got more and more offended by her lack of attention. 
“I know,” you scoffed. “I don’t have to go everywhere with you.”
Suddenly, an eerie silence filled the room. You watched Wanda’s face as she kept her eyes glued to the book she was reading. There was a slight change in it, a tightening of her jaw, but she still didn’t look at you. 
“You know that’s not how this works,” Wanda’s response was calm, but you could tell you were starting to get to her. Never had you been defiant to her. She gave you everything you wanted and you did whatever she asked. There was an unspoken rule to go where Wanda goes, be where she wants you and an even deeper unspoken rule to not question or defy any of the other arrangements you two have made. But tonight, as you watched her jaw clench and unclench and realized you were getting under her skin, you decided to push more. 
“So?” You shrugged and that silent uncomfortable feeling in the room felt like it intensified the very second you uttered that one word. “I don’t see the harm in going out just for one night on my own.”
Wanda’s eyes slowly slid from her book to your face the moment you uttered the phrase on your own. That definitely wasn’t something you should’ve said to her. There was an understanding that anything you did “on your own” was something that Wanda would be nearby for. What you were asking for was a night completely away from Wanda, and it was breaking the biggest unspoken rule she had for you. This was new waters you were treading, but you were so sick of her lack of interest that you didn’t care. Any attention from her was a change from whatever was happening now. 
“You’re not going,” she ordered as she snapped her book shut and stood up. 
You just snorted at that, anger boiling in your blood as you stood your ground. “Why not? You seem preoccupied with just about anything other than me. What’s the harm?”
She was right in front of you now, her jaw was clenching and unclenching like it had before, but this time you looked down for a brief second and noticed her fists were doing the same. Still, though, you wanted to keep pushing. 
“With you dressed like that,” Wanda warned, “I think you know exactly what harm it could do.” You knew what you were doing when you got dressed. A tight, cropped shirt and even tighter short shorts to match. It was something meant to catch the eye of others and definitely something you knew would get an extra rise out of Wanda to add to that. What you didn’t know was what exactly Wanda meant. She was already picturing in her mind the droves of people who would come trying to pick you up at whatever trashy bar you decided to go to. And when she pictured people trying to touch what was hers, she also pictured all the ways in which she could make them suffer so much as daring to think they could have you. 
You were playing with fire and on some level you knew that, but something in you couldn’t stop pushing her buttons. Even if you didn’t know what exactly you were getting into, even if you didn’t know to the full extent how possessive Wanda could be of you and how much of a monster she was capable of being when provoked. 
“I don’t think it’s that big of a deal.” You shrugged again and Wanda’s eye twitched as you kept challenging her resolve. “At least someone will appreciate it.”
If you thought the tension was bad when Wanda stood up, now it was suffocating you. Wanda just stared back at you, her eyes burning with anger. In fact, she looked so angry you swore you saw a red flash in her eyes.  For a moment, you kind of just stood there, waiting for Wanda to respond, but on her part she was trying to calm the possessive rage that you just caused to boil over inside of her. 
Part of her wanted to force you to your knees and have you beg forgiveness for defying her like this. You hadn’t even done anything yet, but just the idea and threat of disobeying her wishes had her furious. She was so close to figuring out how to have everything she wanted and now of all times you were trying to defy her? Trying to let a pathetic stranger swoop in on you at some dive bar when you know you’re hers? No, this was unacceptable to her. Never have you done anything other than be good for her. The way you so easily obeyed her is a small part of what drew her to you in the first place. And she did realize she had been neglectful, but couldn’t you see it was for your own good? For the good of the family Wanda was trying to rebuild with you? The more she had you the more she wanted. She had you completely already, that was true, but she wanted you in a way she wasn’t sure you were ready for. In a way that would show you exactly who Wanda really was. 
So in order to find a solution to the raging beast inside of her that wanted to claim you and have her family back, she thought it was best to withdraw.Clearly she over calculated and now here she was. But as you stood with your arms crossed over your chest, daring her with your eyes to do something, suddenly that’s when all her control just snapped. You felt the shift too, even if you didn’t understand it. It was like the calm before the storm. Wanda took a sharp, deep breath through her nose before exhaling and taking a step into your personal space. 
“Okay,” Wanda growled. “That’s about enough.” In a blink of the eye you were thrown over her shoulder. The way you yelped as you felt yourself hoisted off the ground echoed through the room. You knew Wanda was strong, but you didn’t know she was that strong. She had you thrown over her shoulder like it was nothing. Your hands grasped at her shirt, terrified she would drop you at any moment, but it was as if she had no struggle at all. 
“Wanda, what the fuck?” You cried as she walked towards the bedroom. With a grunt, you landed hard on the mattress. You couldn’t even begin to sit up before she was already on the bed with her legs on either side of your waist, essentially pinning you down onto the bed with her body.
“Language,” she hissed as she started to pull her own shirt off before immediately reaching for yours. 
“How did you- What- When did you get so strong?” You couldn’t collect your thoughts. They were scrambled up by the display of sheer strength and also maybe a little bit by the fact that Wanda was sitting on top of you without a shirt. 
“You wanted attention and now you’re questioning how I give it to you?” Wanda’s voice was dripping with irritation as she began to yank both your own shirt and bra off of you. 
“I– No, but…” You were now naked from the waist up beneath Wanda. Her eyebrow arched as you struggled to find your words. You definitely knew your little stunt would piss her off, but you didn’t expect this outcome. 
“Now tell me,” Wanda’s nails began dragging down your chest as she spoke, “why would you want anyone else’s attention, when I’m all that you need?” Her nails dug down a little harder as they reached your stomach and you hissed at the slight sting of the red marks they left behind.
“Tell me,” Wanda ordered again as her hands made their way back up to your chest. “I give you everything you could possibly want.” The way she was palming at them was rough, but still it had you squirming underneath her. “So why,” she took your nipples between her fingers and pinched just a little harder than she usually would, causing a slight pain as she spoke, “would you ever think about anyone else?”
You winced as she palmed at you even harder, but you couldn’t help the flood of shame at the arousal it sent straight to your core. The way she was handling you, like an object— like something to be owned— was new. Sure she could be intense when she touched you, but she was never intentionally rough like she was being right now. She never purposely caused any kind of pain, even if right now it was mild and (to your surprise) enjoyable. 
“It– it wasn’t like that!” You were stumbling over your words as you began to feel Wanda grind down into you. It wasn’t slight or subtle, the way she was moving her hips. She was pressing your body harder into the mattress as she dragged herself against you from where she was straddling your waist. 
“Hm, then what was it like?” Wanda’s tone was degrading. She was practically seething on top of you as she spoke. “Because to me it sounded like my little toy wanted someone else to play with her?” 
“I–” You couldn’t stop the wince at her harsh words. She had called you that before, but still there was a loving inflection in her voice when she did in the past. This tone she had now, the way she said, it was filled with nothing but rage. “Wanda, I don’t want anyone else. No– No, I… I just wanted you to-“ 
“Oh look at that,” Wanda interrupted, her tone utterly condescending. “Now you’re trying to cover your tracks.” You watched curiously as one of Wanda’s hands left your body. “I thought you understood when we started that you’re mine. I can’t have a single ounce of doubt in your mind about that fact. Now I need to remind you of who you belong to. Who owns you.” She hissed that word and your eyes widened as you watched her fingers twist and twirl in the air, a red glow following them as they moved. In a blink the rest of your clothes just vanished. Your eyes widened for a moment as you stared up at Wanda. But then, in another flash of red you felt your hands fly up and pin themselves above your head. No matter the struggle, you felt a constant, unwavering invisible force hold your wrists in place. 
“Wanda, what— how did you do that?” Your eyes shifted from above you, then to her fingers and finally to her face. Now you definitely noticed the matching red swirl in her irises. 
“I think it’s time I properly taught you just how important it is for you to be good, so that we can have everything we want.” If she heard your question she was clearly ignoring it. Your mind was racing trying to keep up with what was going on top of you. Her words definitely confused you too, but you didn’t get the chance to question them again. 
Wanda looked down for a moment and saw the look in your eyes before rolling her own and pressing her glowing fingers to your temple. In a split second you suddenly realized exactly who she was. Your heart raced and you gulped, but oddly you weren’t as terrified as you were just shocked. 
The Wanda Maximoff was on top of you telling you that you belonged to her. You should be running and screaming for help, or at least attempting to. All the news headlines and stories flooded your memory and you knew exactly how they painted her. She could end you in a second; you should be afraid. But for some reason, you weren’t. Instead, seeing this powerful woman on top of you and thinking back to all the times she told you she loved you, that she would take care of you, that she wanted only you. Knowing the truth, it stunned you, but not in a bad way. 
“Are you scared?” Wanda’s tone was still the same, taunting and demeaning as it was before. Only this time, you saw a little beyond that. There was a seriousness there. A curiosity of what your reaction was. Wanda thought if you reacted badly she could just go back to how it was. Wipe your mind of her existence entirely yet again, restart with you, and enjoy the dynamic you two had again. Was it a healthy plan? No. She would have to start from scratch again. Get you to fall for her once more. But Wanda’s obsession with you has gone far beyond the point of return. She would do what was necessary.
As if to purposely test your limits, Wanda reached for your throat, pressing ever so slightly. “Are you?” She repeated as she leaned down to look you in the eye.
You swallowed hard for a second, already feeling the slight strain on your throat as you did. “No,” you breathed out lowly. You weren’t at all. You realized all you wanted was her attention and finally she was giving it to you. Was this secret that kept her so withdrawn lately? “No, Wanda, I’m not.” 
You were nervous, but you weren’t scared. No matter what Wanda was before, no matter what she has become now, you were hers from the moment you crashed into her. A memory that was returned to you. If she hadn’t wiped that one, you would’ve still been drawn to her and fallen for her just as hard as you did when she was posing as a professor. 
Wanda knew your acceptance was true and took your answer for what it was. This moment right now opened so many doors for her. The void she had been feeling, it could finally be fixed in the way she wanted to fix it. Things in her life were falling into place. As Wanda sat atop of you she finally— for the first time in her entire existence —felt like she was winning. Not once did she ever feel so powerful until this very moment.
“Now that you know the truth…” Wanda trailed off in a low voice. She was thinking aloud more than she was talking to you. Her eyes stayed locked with yours but you could tell she was pondering something. When you saw the now familiar swirl of red in her eyes you began to question what Wanda has in store for you. 
“Do you love me?” Wanda now spoke directly to you. Her eyes were still glowing red as her hand finally relaxed against your throat.
“Yes,” you replied breathlessly. Wanda’s face melted at your admission. The harsh, contemplative look she was wearing shifted into a soft smile finally. It was perhaps the first time in weeks she gave you a glimpse of her softness and you reveled in it. 
But after just a split second it was replaced with a bigger smile, one that gave you that feeling of being prey caught in a trap again. It was a feeling you weren’t unfamiliar with. And, if you were being honest, you enjoyed the thrill you got from seeing it. “We’re going to try something,” Wanda purred as she sat back up, but remained on top of you. “Something that we’ll both thoroughly enjoy.” 
You looked at her with curious eyes, squirming underneath her only slightly as she shifted and began to move between your legs. 
“It will give us both what we’ve been wanting,” Wanda continued as she now knelt between your legs, holding them open for her as she spoke. Her eyes raked down your body, from your flushed cheeks all the way down to the wetness that dripped from your thighs. She couldn’t help the satisfied hum at the sight, thinking this might be a lot easier of a task than she thought it would be. 
With another swirl of red in her eyes and a matching red shimmer around her twirling fingers, you followed her eyes down as the rest of her clothes disappeared and something materialized. Wanda’s smile grew as something you couldn’t fully see appeared between her legs.
You strained your neck up as best you could from the pillow, but with your arms still pinned above your head it was difficult. You caught what looked like shimmering, deep red straps resting around her waist and could only imagine what those led to. 
When Wanda leaned forward and you felt a cool, silicon tip pushing between your folds, your suspicions were confirmed. The contact made the both of you shiver, and as you felt Wanda run the toy slowly from your entrance to your clit and back down, you could see her taking sharp, deep breaths.
“This is going to be… incredible,” Wanda practically hissed. “I’ll be able to feel everything, to feel every part of you when I make you cum.”
Wanda hadn’t even begun fucking you and the idea of it turned you on so much you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from your lips in a response. 
“And then,” Wanda lined the tip up as she spoke, “I’m going to fill you with my cum and hopefully it will work.” With that she pushed forward and you both took a sharp breath at the feeling. 
Wanda eased in as slowly as she could while fighting her every instinct to just ram into you and fuck you until she felt you fall apart. But she knew that at least for the start of this, she should go slow. This was, after all, the first time she’s fucked you using her magic. It was the first time she’s fucked you using something this big too. For all she knew, you’ve only ever had experience with her fingers. She didn’t want to break you— not completely. But as her cock sank into you inch by inch she was beginning to slip.
“God this feels better than I imagined,” Wanda hissed as she bottomed out inside you. “Why didn’t I do this sooner?” 
Your teeth were digging into your lip as you tried to stop yourself from crying out from the sheer feeling of being so full. To have Wanda fill your pussy in a way she never has before, it was taking all your willpower not to turn into a moaning, whining mess before she even really began to fuck you.
Wanda’s hips were currently completely pressed between your legs and you were taking her so surprisingly well. You were tight, but the way you squeezed Wanda’s magic strap was delicious. There was a pause for a moment— just a brief second for you to adjust to the size of her toy. But it was all she could manage to give you. The sensation of actually feeling you in this way had her head swimming and she needed more. 
She pulled the toy out slowly, so much so that only the tip stayed inside you. Her chest was already heaving as she looked down at you. The way her eyes were filled with hunger made you shiver as you looked back up at her, restrained, helpless, and thirsty for more. Your legs spread open for her even more without her prompting you and she groaned at the sight before her. Your wetness smeared on the parts of the toy that she could see, your arms still pinned over your head. It was all too much. She couldn’t help what she did next. Her hips snapped suddenly and her cock pushed deep into you. 
The cry you let out echoed through the room and Wanda swore she’s never heard a prettier sound. Her hips pulled back again until just the tip was left in you. Again she snapped them forward hard, making your eyes screw shut as you cried her name. 
“Fuck, if I knew it would feel like this…” Wanda groaned as she began to pump inside you at a brutal pace. Her hands were on your thighs, nails digging into your skin as she kept your legs spread open. Your hands were balled into fists above your head as she fucked you. You couldn’t stop the moans and cries that fell from your lips even if you wanted to. 
As Wanda kept fucking you, she fell forward, her entire body pressed against yours, as her lips captured your own. You whimpered into the kiss as her tongue filled your mouth much in the same aggressive way as the way she was currently fucking the toy into you. 
Wanda’s hands still had a hold of your thighs as she hoisted your legs over her waist, giving her a better angle to fuck the toy into you. You struggled to keep up with the way Wanda was licking into your mouth and biting at your lips. Her cock was hitting a spot inside of you, you didn’t even know would feel as good as it did. Your knuckles were turning white as your whole body began to shake from the sheer pleasure she was giving you. Even though you felt as if your whole body was on the brink of exploding, Wanda just kept going.
When Wanda began to moan more and more against your own mouth, you knew neither of you would last much longer. Wanda couldn’t keep kissing you anymore, and instead buried her head in the nape of your neck as she hoisted your legs higher onto her hips and fucked you even deeper. Your eyes had rolled back and cries of Wanda’s name fell from your lips nonstop as she picked up her pace.
“I can feel how close you are,” Wanda groaned as she pumped particularly harder into you. “But you’re going to wait. I want you to cum when I do.”
All you could do was whine in response as the sensation of her fucking you made it impossible for you to let out any coherent words. 
“You’re going to look so pretty,” she moaned against your neck, “filled up with my cum… and even prettier after.” Wanda’s movements were becoming erratic as she spoke. The words hardly registered to you as she kept fucking you harder and faster. 
“You wanna cum, baby?” Wanda purred in your ear. You nodded desperately, your whole body trembling as you continued to take her. Her teeth grazed against the most sensitive part of your neck as she felt you nod and she could feel her own body tremble from how close she was. “Then come with me,” she ordered. Her hips pumped harder into you and after a moment you felt a sudden warm rush of fluids inside you. The sound of moans filled the air even louder than before and you weren’t sure if they were coming from you or her. 
The moment you felt her cum inside you, you followed after. Your body arched off the bed and you felt tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Wanda’s forehead was pressed to your bare chest as she came. The way your pussy tightened around her magic cock was intoxicating. Neither of you had felt so good in your entire lives and Wanda made a mental note to fuck you like this often. 
When she felt your body finally collapse against the mattress she did the same against you. You realized quickly that your wrists no longer felt restrained, but you kept them above your head either way. Too exhausted to even lift them yet. 
“That was…” you couldn’t find the words. You had never felt so amazing on so many different levels than you did tonight. Your body felt spent and sensitive, but all you wanted was more. More of that, more of Wanda, more of everything she had to offer now that you knew who Wanda was. 
“Yeah,” Wanda didn’t need to hear you finish your sentence to know she was feeling the same way you were. Her head rested on your chest, listening to your heartbeat begin to slow as you came down from the high Wanda gave you. 
“Can we… do it like that more?” Your face was flushed as you asked. 
Wanda lifted her head and gave you a beaming smile. To anyone else it would be dazzling, but curiously, to you it gave you that feeling again— the one where you were nothing but a sheep caught in a wolf’s clutches. 
“Of course we can, baby,” Wanda purred as she looked up at you. “As many times as it takes.” 
The word choice was odd. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked down at the woman on your chest. Her eyes were dark as she looked back up at you and something about the way her fingers traced up and down your stomach made you shudder. 
“As many times as it takes?” You echoed Wanda’s words back to her as a question, but she just gave a small hum of agreement as she placed a few kisses on your skin. 
“Until I have everything that I want again.” Her voice was low suddenly, almost threatening. You looked down at her eyes and saw how they darkened as she continued to trace her fingers against your body. “And nobody will take it from me again.”
Her words felt like a threat to an invisible entity. You knew it wasn’t directed towards you, you had no idea the source. But you knew she was serious, even if you didn’t quite understand why. Her words felt as much as a threat to someone as they did a direct promise to you. 
As Wanda laid on your chest and recovered some of her strength she thought about how she was one step closer. She could have her perfect family; her happiness. She didn’t need to control a whole town, she didn’t even necessarily need to control you. Once you did understand, she knew you would be accepting. Shocked, maybe, but ultimately accepting and even happy to build the dream Wanda had. She would have her boys, she would recreate them again with you. And then it would be the four of you, forever. 
For your part, you didn’t know what Wanda meant exactly. It wouldn’t be until later that evening, when Wanda decided you recovered enough to go again, that you put the pieces together and realized exactly how magic Wanda’s new toy was. She was right in her assumption of your reaction, shocked but accepting. Just like the good girl she knew you would be. Whatever Wanda wanted, you decided you would give it to her, knowing she would do the same. Wanda was one step closer to her happiness and it finally felt as if she was building it on solid foundations. There would be no one to take you from her, no one to stop her from building a life again with you. And there was a silent, chilling understanding between the two of you that if anyone were to ever threaten her happiness again… they would not get very far.
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gutsby · 2 days
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Cowboy Killers
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Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader
Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.
Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.
Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.
Word count: 4.1k
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Forgive and forget.
Forgive and forget.
Forgive and—
“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.
Across the line, your friend laughed.
“Yeah? You see him?”
Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.
The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.
She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.
Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.
And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.
Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.
“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.
Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:
“Where ya headed, hon?”
You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’
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The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.
A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.
Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.
“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.
She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.
“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.
“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.
“Well, duh.”
“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”
“I love you, psycho.”
“Love you more.”
You ended the call.
And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.
You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight
You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.
The couple turned.
As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.
“You cheatin’ FUCK!”
He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.
The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.
“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.
You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:
“Working late, are we?!”
And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.
“Got a little caught up on the way home?”
Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.
“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.
Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand
Shaking his head.
“Hell no, I ain’t never—”
“LIAR!”
Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.
“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.
You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.
“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.
You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.
They thought wrong.
“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.
You almost expected the man to turn and leave.
You thought wrong.
“You’re a cunt.”
And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.
The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.
He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.
“How’s it feel?” he sneered.
You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.
On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?
You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.
“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”
“Wh—”
“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”
“What—”
“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”
“What did you just call me?!”
“A BITCH!”
“No, the NAME!”
“TOMMY MILLER!”
“I’M JOEL!”
Oh.
Oh.
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You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.
Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.
“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.
Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.
“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”
Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.
Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.
Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.
“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”
He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:
‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’
He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.
When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.
“HEY!”
Oh, no. No. Not tonight.
You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.
“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.
It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.
Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:
“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”
You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.
“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”
Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.
“Oh yeah?”
Joel flipped you around to face him.
“Yeah,” he snapped.
Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.
What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.
Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.
“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”
“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.
You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.
“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”
“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.
You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.
And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.
“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”
Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.
He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.
“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”
Joel couldn’t say that he had.
Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.
This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.
“Alright, princess. Up.”
You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.
You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.
“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.
Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:
“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”
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Joel wished he’d said no.
Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.
“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.
“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.
And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.
“Gross,” you muttered.
“What?”
“Got a light?”
“Blow me.”
Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.
“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.
“Now keep your—HEY!”
Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.
He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:
“What the fuck was that?!”
“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”
Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.
“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.
“I’m aware.”
“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”
You told him.
Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.
And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.
Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.
He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.
He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:
‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’
He saw you cringe.
“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”
The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.
Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.
“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”
“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”
You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.
“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.
He couldn’t help it.
Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.
Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.
“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.
Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.
“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:
“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”
Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.
“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”
Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.
The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.
You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.
Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.
On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:
“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”
Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.
“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”
At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.
“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”
You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.
Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.
Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.
Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.
“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.
Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.
You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.
Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.
As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.
Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.
He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.
He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.
He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.
No fucking way.
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You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.
Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.
“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.
“The one and only.”
Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.
It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.
He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.
His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.
“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.
Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.
Now you were waving to him from your front door.
Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.
And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.
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2:21 AM
You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.
Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:
1:09 AM – Maria
DUDE
1:09 AM
TOMMY JUST CAME HOME
1:09 AM
THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR
1:13 AM
IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!
1:13 AM
ABORT ABORT ABORT
1:42 AM
DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME
1:54 AM – Dave York
Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u
776 notes · View notes
aaagustd · 2 days
Text
make it cute | jjk (m)
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title: make it cute pairing: jeon jungkook x (f)reader genre/rating: smut, pwp, 18+ summary: if jungkook loans someone money, he expects to be paid with just that. but tonight, he just might make an exception. wc: 1.8k warnings: infidelity, swearing, mentions ransoms and everything that comes with that (threats, m*rder, etc), pictures??, consensual g*n play (more like oral but yeah), sloppy bl*wjob/deep throating, consent bc it's sexy, pet names, degradation, m*sturbation, facial c*m shot, dirty talk, slight power play dynamics, Dom/sub themes, obedience kink, hair pulling, face f*cking, that should be all release date: september 21st, 2024; 10:18pm est
note: reposting this baby. it’s from the old aaagustd account. i hope y’all enjoy the new version. divider credit.
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"That’s it. Keep going until I tell you to stop."
Jungkook can feel the material of his pants stretching to accommodate the growing boner pressing against the fabric. One wrong jerk of his hips, and he fears the measly button and zipper securing his trousers will go flying across his lavishly decored master bedroom.
He’s done some sick shit in his life, but this. This was your idea.
If only he could hear how you begged for it.
"Damn, baby, You are dead-ass enjoying this, aren't you?"
You don’t have to respond, but you do. "M-Mhm," you exhale in a needy moan as your throat engulfs the barrel of his gun.
There’s no way you can deny what is visibly present in both your eyes. 
The way your middle finger teases your soaked cunt. Your erected nipples leave two perfectly sculpted peaks that he can see through your sheer top.
He can't lie; he’s impressed and turned on by the sight. 
However, the reason you’re on your knees on his bedroom floor isn’t because he had a taste for a bored housewife. Your darling husband owes him a lot of money, and he will pay it if he wants his little trophy home by dinner.
Otherwise, Jungkook will gladly keep you—if you can behave.
With an ass like yours, Jungkook wouldn't let you out of his sight. Your place would be right on his lap, no matter the time or the place.
You have to keep a tight leash on this kind of pussy. The man’s an idiot. 
A woman as beautiful as you begging to be fucked? He’s not a nice guy, but how could he not show pity?
Jungkook can only stand there and imagine how your plump lips would look wrapped around his dick. The thought of it has him twitching inside his boxers.
As if you are reading his mind, your sticky digits abandon your wet panties and you place them on his designer-covered crotch. A sharp hiss pushes through his clenched teeth, biting back a slew of insults that could imply that he’s angry. Not in the slightest, he was just shaken by the sensitivity.
Staring into the desperation lingering deep in your irises, Jungkook knows what you’re asking for. Your mouth is filled to the brim, but you’re still begging for more.
Jungkook isn’t a gentleman, but he’s mindful of his strength when he grips your hair, snatching you away from his gun. He should have been cautious of your teeth, but you won’t need them anyway for what you’re about to do.
“Hey!” He watches your swollen lips part as you suddenly take in a large breath of air. Your lungs struggle to accommodate the pressure, leaving you coughing and choking for several seconds. The sound nearly drowns out his voice. “Look at me, dollface!”
Jungkook stares into your watery blown-out eyes, holding an intense gaze to make sure you understand him clearly. He realizes then that he has a problem on his hands.
Sexy and obedient. Fuck.
"Doll, you can get up if you want. I just want my money-"
"Fuck my throat."
Jungkook almost shudders when he hears your sweet voice. The lust hidden within that raspy tone is intoxicating.
"What?" he asks.
He heard you, though. Jungkook never misses a beat, but he’s just—stunned.
Clearing your throat, you repeat your request without an ounce of shame.
"My throat. Shove it down my throat, please."
Please.
You didn't have to add that last part. He was already preparing to take his dick out.
"Well, shit," he curses. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I am.”
Jungkook quickly places his gun on the dresser behind him and unbuckles his belt. He steals glances at you waiting patiently on your knees—like a good little slut. 
It’s goddamn shame how you have him fidgeting like a virgin.
Once his pants are loosened enough to slip a hand in and pull down his boxers, his cock springs out and introduces itself. Your reaction leaves a prideful smirk spreading across his face. Whatever you were expecting he knows that has been exceeded.
"Bit off more than you can chew, huh?"
You appear to be offended by his assumption. At least that’s what your expression reads. "Not at all," you reply, straightening your posture to align with his midsection. "May I?"
With Jungkook’s permission, you make contact with his length by grasping it gently in your smooth hand. Your fingers wrap around his girth as your eyes size him up.
Stroking him lazily in your warm palm, you admire his protruding veins that run along his length. You pause at the reddened tip, tapping the pool of precum that has developed at his slit. Your tongue licks your lips as if you’re sitting before a feast.
He understands it’s probably been forever since you’ve been in the presence of someone his size, but he’s impatient. You’ll have to do this another time.
"Don't fuck around, alright? I still got a bullet with your name on it, dollface."
You heed his warning and move closer, determining the best method of swallowing him whole.
"Sorry," you say in a whisper.
Those manners of yours will take you places; if you play your cards right.
"It’s no sweat, beautiful. Just keep going."
It's probably the first time he's said something as sincere; but honestly, he's just trying to get gobbled up before he cums all over his freshly waxed floors. His men are probably wondering what the hell is taking so long. For all they know, you’re using his bathroom to clean yourself up from the bumpy ride you had in the trunk of their car.
Without warning, Jungkook’s dick is sucked into your heavenly mouth. The warm and wetness invite him in without hesitation, comforting his throbbing length like a compress. He struggles to maintain his composure.
He isn't sure if he should allow you to take over because he cannot move. He couldn’t thrust if he wanted to. He’s mentally and physically stuck. The way you're slurping him up…he might not even be able to walk after this.
"Easy," Jungkook warns, which causes you to raise an eyebrow.
Finally, a bit of cockiness breaks through the surface.
Jungkook has no choice but to pull himself together and find his bearings because he’d die before boosting your ego.
"Fine," he grunts. "I can play rough too."
His hands snake their way to the back of your head, granting him full control. Your dark eyes never tear away from his face as he harshly uses his grip to push your head into his swift thrusts. You start to gag and choke, dropping saliva all over his cock and the floor. Something that would usually piss him off—but tonight, he can’t find an ounce of care.
It's not like he has to clean it up.
"Goddamn. Who's training this throat, hm?" He buries himself in your throat, making your forehead collide with his pelvic area. "Can’t be your hubby?"
When he hears a gurgled moan, he pulls away and allows you to speak. Through labored pants, you huff out your response. It’s one he's sure you've never shared with your husband.
"I'll suck that bastard dry every night before I let him cum inside me."
Jungkook nods. "Smart woman."
However, your business has nothing to do with him. Right now, he needs your undivided attention.
"Come here," he demands.
Jungkook hopes you were able to take in a breath before he lets go of his self-control.
You two had a deal, and he will uphold his part as you are yours. You’ve complied and given him some of the best head he’s ever received. Now, it’s time for the real show.
It’s been a month since he loaned your spouse some money; it’s time to pay up. To remind him of that, he’ll send your husband some face shots of his beautiful wife.
Jungkook will get his payment—one way, or another.
"Fuck!"
His body tenses now that he’s hitting the back of your throat. No matter how deep he goes, you never run out of space. The sweat rolling down his face is ignored because he’s too focused on how good your mouth feels around him.
Your warmth has him hunched over and leaning on his toes, his mouth stuck in an O-shape as he comes dangerously close to release. As he moves in and out of your crevice, he catches a glimpse of your juicy cunt being filled with your fingers, your body squirming and seeking the same relief he's chasing.
Both of your moans fill the room as you reach the peak of your highs. Your eyes roll back as your body becomes stiff. Jungkook knows exactly what's going on with you, and as you're riding out the waves of your orgasm, he waits for the perfect moment to pull out and paint you with his seed.
The time comes when you're no longer able to control your breathing, and you're desperately looking for a source of air. It's not a second too soon because Jungkook cannot bear another deep dive into your wet hole.
He slips out and gives his boner a couple of quick strokes before ropes of his cum paint your pretty face. The sounds you make indicate just how pleased you are with the results of your messy blowjob.
…And messy it is indeed.
It's everywhere, but he kept his promise and didn't get any in your hair.
"Ready?" Jungkook asks, still trying to catch his breath.
"Yeah."
Jungkook pulls his phone out of his back pocket and finds his camera. He positions it directly in front of your face. Your exhausted eyes and fucked out expression brings him some amusement. A contrast of how he felt before meeting you. 
"Is my hair okay?" you ask him, and this time he actually has to chuckle.
Since you've made his night a little better, he does a quick job smoothing down flyaways and kinks. 
Honestly, he didn't have to because you already look hot. Your hair all messy with his load dumped all over your face. All while adorned in an expensive diamond necklace your husband bought you—probably with his money.
Before he gets angry, he instructs you to look at the camera.
You pose provocatively as he takes a few pictures, giving your best doe-eyed pout.  When he’s done, he finally guides you to the bathroom. He allows you to use his shower or whatever else you’d need to clean up. 
Jungkook then lets you know that you may take as long as you need to freshen up while he sits on the bed to make this official.
He searches his contacts for the correct number. A mischievous grin slowly forms on his face as he taps the latest images in his camera roll, sending his debtor a little message to stir the pot.
03:14 am Sent: img.788, img.789....
03:14 am Sent: at the crib fucking your bitch. bring my bread and i might give her back.
He's lying. You’re staying right here.
Or…you can join your husband, in the cozy six-foot bed his men dug up for him in the woods.
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435 notes · View notes
heegyukeluv · 1 day
Text
the devil wears prada (sjy)
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pairing: idol!jake x afab!reader
synopsis: As Sim Jaeyun stepped out of Prada’s after party, everyone ignored his goodbyes to the sea of paparazzis, because the buzz was about the lucky person who got to disheveled his hair. Jake’s honest answer for that was: the devil. And she for sure wears Prada.
my's note: i love how everyone saw Jake’s after-party photos and thought the same thing (i'm everyone). disheveled hair jake after-party prada that’s all. and i just realized i don’t know how to write a quickie lol enjoy <3 (please take into consideration this is a work of fiction, this doesn't represents the artist's image)
warnings: SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, protected sex, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, quickie but not really, public (?) bathroom sex, mirror sex, reader is quite dom with jake (i can't help myself), mention of alcohol. lmk if i missed something!
wc: 5.4k
NOT PROOFREAD.
taglist 💖: @yvnempire
The air was thick with the scent of luxury – champagne and expensive perfumes mingling with the buzz of the conversations in every corner of the room.
You had your back leaning against the marble counter of the bar, fingers nonchalantly tracing the edge of your vibrant drink and eyes drifting through the sea of people. Everyone was dressed to impress, each guest showcasing their creativity through Prada’s clothes, accessories and shoes.
Working in the fashion industry came with perks, and being invited to exclusive after-parties was undoubtedly the best one. So you weren’t a stranger to this world. The glamourist atmosphere, the music playing as a soft background, the dim lights casting a perfect blend of elegance and casualness over the place.
It made your body shiver with joy, fulfillment at its most filling your chest, as the surroundings seemed to confirm what you already knew: you were in the right place – your place.
Earlier, at the main event, you watched the showcase with sparkling eyes, recording specific moments to use later as inspiration for your own creativity process. You loved how free you could be with your ideas while doing your work, not to mention the possibility of adding tons of yourself to it. Some might call it an egoistic behavior, as if your job existed solely for your own satisfaction. But the creation was yours, so why shouldn’t the outcome be about you too?
You took another sip of your drink, your sharp gaze scanning the room.
As soon as you stepped at the after-party, many other designers and some artists approached to compliment both your visual and your work, and you confidently talked with them. Yet, coming not from one, but from a few of them, there was an underlying tone; their praises were not solely aimed at your outfit or your impeccable creations, but rather an attempt to carve a path to your heart – or, perhaps, under your dress.
You never denied you had a good appearance. Together with your sense of style and your fearless demeanor, you enchanted anyone who crossed your way. The badass woman aura you exhaled was almost palpable and extremely hot for those who watched – with heart and lustful eyes – as you passed by.
Despite the usual lingering intense gazes on you, far from feeling intimidated or even shy by them, there was one pair of eyes burning deeper, piquing your curiosity as you kept on searching for its owner. 
It was like you every motion was being captured by them, following you across the room, and no matter how many conversations you effortlessly maneuvered through, all you could feel was the constant, intense weight of the said gaze.
After one more drink and some uninterested noddings at the guy who took place near you at the bar, you finally found him.
Sitting on the middle sofas of the main room, drink in hand, together with his group, devil eyes staring at you shamelessly, biting his lip and looking extremely hot as doing so.
You quirked an eyebrow in his direction, not even bothering to follow the bla-bla-bla coming from the random guy anymore, his words sounding like nothing to you at that point.
Especially because the attractive man looking at you didn’t even flinch after getting caught, as if it was the purpose from the beginning. If anything, he deepened eye contact in a daring, cocky manner, almost challenging you to react over the tension that started to hang in the air between you two.
Unlucky to him, you weren’t the type to follow anyone’s lead but yours, so you simply let out a soft scoff, a smirk tugging at your lips as you deliberately took another sip of your drink without breaking the new unspoken game – the one you were sure you would win.
You observed closely how he drifted his gaze away from yours just to blatantly check you out, stopping on your bare thighs for a moment before doing the same on your exposed chest, the neckline of your dress giving the perfect bait for men like him.
He shifted on his seat, gulping and then assaulting his lower lip with his teeth once more, as if trying to contain himself from running all the way to you, just to undress you properly instead of keep on doing that with his glare. 
You would be lying if you said that his demeanor wasn’t helping to ignite the fire from your core to your entire body, skin heating with a hint of desire. Even so, you waited patiently.
The random designer talking to you was long gone already, though you barely noticed, unnecessarily engrossed in your little game.
With a subtle, innocent tilt of your chin, you motioned your head slowly as a signal, beckoning him to come closer, without breaking eye contact. The simple gesture caught him off guard; his confident atmosphere stumbling to keep itself up, eyes growing wide in surprise, and you found it irresistibly adorable.
The corner of your lips curled when he stood up after whispering something to one of his friends, who quickly glanced at you and then showed a small smile. You finished your drink as he made his way over, his steps relaxed, but his eyes avoiding yours. You almost chuckled at the endearing scene.
As he approached, you noticed how young he seemed to be, perhaps even younger than you. Not to mention his incredible inebriating fragrance and self beauty – the plump pink lips and the high bridge nose perfectly sculpted doing things to you.
“Hey,” he greeted, eyes straightaway dropping to your exposed neckline, lingering on the curve of your chest.
You leaned in just slightly, making sure he got a better view, batting your lashes with a sly smile. “Hey.”
Without asking for your preference, he ordered two drinks. You decided to let it slide for now – being surprised could be fun every now and then, and maybe accepting his drinks could be one of the keys to get something more.
“You’ve been turning heads all night.” He finally said after a while, the hot, aussie accent didn’t go unnoticed by you. Your body heat increased as an immediate response. 
As you tilted your head slightly, letting a small smile play on your lips, you smoothly replied with faux innocence. “Have I?”
“Mhm,” he nodded, thanking the bartender for the drink as he handed you one, oblivious of the rhetorical question. Your smile widened. “Can I know your name?”
“Y/N,” you politically extended your hand, eyes sharp on his face. His grip was hesitant, and the moment your fingers touched, an unexpected jolt of electricity shot through your body. You suppressed a slight shiver.
“Jake,” he introduced himself, caring little to nothing about showing how affected he got just by feeling your soft palm on his.
His breath hitched, getting caught on his throat as his eyes darkened. He couldn’t help but think about how your touch would feel elsewhere on his body.
The excitement flooded your chest instantly, you had to hold back yourself because you realized that if you wanted – and you so did – those perfect lips would be attached to yours in no time, and if you were lucky enough, they would be exploring other parts of your body as well.
“Nice meeting you, Jake.” You murmured, pronouncing his name with your most velvety voice, slowly pulling your hand away to grab your drink from the counter, sipping it.
Jake tracked your deliberate movements, wetting his slightly parted lips when he saw your red lipstick staining on the glass edge, utterly in disbelief he simply discovered someone who definitely came out from his wettest dreams, who would turn the smallest, innocent gesture into something sensual.
Even the simple act of blinking in his direction seemed meticulously calculated to make it hard to resist your advances, fueling the growing tightness inside his pants.
Not to mention how sexy his name rolled out of your beautifully tinted lips. 
Jake leaned his arms on the marble counter, turning his head to keep on watching you, as if your presence were an alluring, tempting show, happening right in front of his eyes just to damage his weak heart.
“I couldn’t stop looking at you.” He blurted out shamelessly, shattering the ‘cool’ facade he was trying to maintain under your intense gaze.
There was something about how sincere, seductive, and yet, desperate he sounded, as if his greatest longing in life was to have you right away. You were enjoying that guy so much so far. 
“I’ve noticed,” you chuckled with your eyes brimming with flirtation, shifting between his plush, kissable lips and his desire-filled orbs. “And are you planning to keep just looking?”
Jake blinked, momentarily taken aback with your quick and direct response. Although you had an obvious confident aura radiating through your pores, he definitely didn't expect you to be so straight to the point, thinking he would have to ease things a bit more.
And honestly? He found your vibe more exciting than he would like to admit. 
“I guess that depends on what you want,” he answered, voice dropping a tone, trying to match the energy you exuded.
Ignoring the chills running through your spine by his low murmur, you softly chuckled and leaned back against the bar, gaze still locked with his.
“Oh, Jake,” you teasingly cooed, grinning, with your voice dripping with amusement, “I always get what I want.”
It was visibly apparent how your words ignited something on his body, perking up in anticipation while his eyes deepened and his jaw clenched; if you looked close enough, you would see the slight bulge in his crotch area. 
Jake straightened his posture, finishing his drink in one go without breaking eye contact, hooded eyelids offering you the most magnetic sight you saw that night until that moment.
Then he leaned in closer, the tension between you two increasing with every heartbeat. “Meet me in the bathroom,” he whispered in your ear, a cocky smirk creeping onto his face.
As he walked towards the restroom area, his confident stride only added to the thrill. Men would be promising you the best night of your life just to leave you hanging and dealing with your situation alone. However, Jake seemed to exude an air of boldness blended perfectly with devotion, making a rush of anticipation bubbling in your core.
You let out a small laugh, not even caring about finishing your drink. The thrilling game had just started and you were so ready to play.
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Jake’s lips tasted like heaven. And fancy liquor.
His hands were everywhere, but mainly on your ass and neck, his desperation evident by the way he pressed your back into the cold wall, sucking your lips as if his life depended on it.  
After following his traces, feigning indifference as best as you could to the open public, it took mere seconds before you felt his strong grasp on your hips guiding you into the bathroom – fortunately, they had private, separated spaces, making it easier for the two of you to steal as much privacy as the party allowed.
You could hear the muffled hum of the songs playing as a background, merging with the lewd sounds from the messy, hungry kiss you both shared and the soft groans rumbling from Jake’s throat as well.
Just minutes ago your plans were completely different; just some kisses and calling it a night, definitely not imagining things going further than that. However, the way Jake’s mouth skilfully moved against yours made you wonder how good it would feel in other places of your body, like in between your legs, and you just had to give it a chance.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, barely breaking the contact, lips already swollen and reddened due to your lipstick and your not so gentle bites. 
You hummed in response, unable to form proper words about how amazing of a job he was doing just by kissing you. 
Your fingers tangled in his silky brown hair, tugging without restraint because you quickly realized how much Jake liked it. He moaned, lips parting against yours with the intensity of the pull, your hazed gaze catching a quick glimpse of his eyes rolling back – an extremely devilish view.
Although stumbling a bit, Jake managed to easily place you at the edge of the sink’s counter by lifting you firmly gripping your thighs, the feeling alone making you wince as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist for support.
The room seemed to shrink as your breaths quickened, the boiling sensation bubbling in your stomach as you anticipated for more of his intense, heated, passionate touches. 
Jake, just as breathless, decided to assault the flesh of your neck and exposed collarbone, getting drunk on your scent and softness as he did so, loving how you tilted your head just enough to give him some more access to explore.
A soft moan escaped your lips and your fingers tightened on his hair when he nibbled your sensitive spot, close to your earlobe, sending jolts of electricity directly to your pussy.
You could feel a smirk creeping into his mouth, right before he questioned teasingly, slowly sucking the area. “Do you like that?”
You fought to keep your composure, a soft smile threatening to break through as the heat blossomed in your core. His breath tickled your skin, deliberately waiting for your answer while igniting every inch of you by keeping on playing on that spot. 
The first reaction you gave was another moan together with your nails digging on his shoulders and scratching his scalp. Then you admitted, still struggling to hold yourself back. “Fuck, yes. I do.” 
Jake cooed at you, gently pulling away from the curve of your neck to study your dazed expression; lips agape releasing heavy breaths, cheeks flushed with a delicate pink and eyes half-lidded, fluttering slowly, still dripping in the same confidence you once carried, as if even under his lead you were the one commanding.
“You look hot and messy, and I haven’t even started yet.” Jake teased, a playful smile gracing his lips as he pressed them against yours again.
“Do you always talk that much?” You murmured, not quite intending to judge his demeanor, but a bit annoyed and amused by how he appeared to need to hear you frequently while savoring you. 
“Only when I'm nervous.” Jake answered honestly with an awkward chuckle, helping you to remove his jacket, which landed straight on the ground and he couldn’t care less.  
“Oh, do I make you nervous Jakey?” You smirked, thirsting over his now exposed veiny arms. 
Watching Jake’s cheeks being painted with a faint blush while he swallowed hard under your sharp gaze, clearly getting flustered, brought back the control you thought was lost. 
“Maybe a little,” Jake tried to play it cool, but his voice came out smaller than he expected, and he tried to avoid facing you by leaning to kiss you again.
A glint of mischief sparkled in your eyes when you noticed he was losing his composure. You kindly held his head still, forcing him to keep his gaze on you. “Aw, come on, Jakey. Don’t shy away now,” you said, a smooth voice layered with playfulness and a sultry, almost mocking undertone. “You haven’t even started yet, isn’t that right?” 
Jake nearly moaned when he heard your words, not because of them itself but by how hot you sounded. His cock throbbed painfully inside his pants, his underwear probably stained with his leaking precum at that point. 
Jake got fooled at some moment by thinking he was the one in charge, even provoking you while exploring your desires initially, but the reality was that he had been following your lead like a lost puppy all along. 
There was something about how confident and dominant you seemed to be since the beginning, not faltering a single moment to his boldness, and somehow you carried that still, assuming the control gracefully, as if it was your job. And Jake was very grateful for you doing so.
His eyes softened and his breath hitched. 
“Tell me, what do you want from me?” The question slipped from his plush, beautiful lips, laced with desire and a touch of vulnerability without much cohesive thinking, clouded mind craving to satisfy you, because that meant his own fulfillment. “I wanna give you everything.”
Devoting to a devilish goddess like you was a tempting surrender he was eager to embrace.
You felt a pulse straight in your clit and your cheeks heating, the weight of his desperate words triggering your following behavior.
Jake saw the way your face brightened up, realizing he had opened the hell’s gate and he was eager to enter – if you were the personification of the devil, he was more than willing to drown into your lustful, tempting sea of sins. 
“What do I want from you?” You echoed, an amused grin curling the corner of your lips as your eyes traced Jake’s attractive features, pausing on his perfectly sculpted high-bridged nose, accompanied just below by his tasteful lips. You smiled, caressing it with your thumb. “I want them. Eat me out.” 
Jake’s breath got caught on his throat and his eyes grew in a slight surprise, not only due to your bold, straightforward request, but mainly because the idea of having your pussy in full display for him to play sounded too dreamy.
“Are you sure?” He asked in a low, contained voice, struggling to keep down his excitement, biting his lower lip, aiming to confirm he wasn’t going insane.
“I know what I want, Jake.” You cocked your head with a raised eyebrow. “And you?”
Jake’s eyes immediately dropped to your chest and then your bare thighs. The dress had ridden up due to the position so he was able to see a hint of your laced, black panties. He wet his lips, mouth watering while he lowered enough to bend comfortably and be eye level with your cunt.
You watched, fascinated by how in trance he seemed to be, as though your final word was the cue for him to dive into you completely. 
Your stomach fluttered in anticipation as you propped yourself up to help Jake slide your panties down your legs, gentle hands caressing your smooth skin as he did so. Then he grabbed your ass and pulled you forward, shooting you a quick glance and smile before burying his face between your legs, the smell of your pussy intoxicating his senses. 
He first gave it a small, slow kitty-lick, testing the waters, then frowned in pleasure, groaning with your delicious taste dissolving on his tongue.
A soft gasp slipped from your lips and you quickly pursed them to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, fighting the urge of allowing yourself to let go so easily. One of your hands searched for support on the edge of the counter and the other held on tight to Jake’s hair.
Jake gave a long, savoring lick, finishing with a delectable, lewd sucking noise in your clit, as if he was starting to make out with your pussy. Your mouth fell open and your eyes fluttered shut, your limbs feeling like jelly as a wave of weakness coursed through you.
His hot muscle started to work faster, steadier and precise in between your folds, your entrance and your sensitive bundle of nerves, giving each of them the right amount of attention.
“Holy shit, Jake,” you moaned shakily, unable to keep it low. “You’re so fucking good at this,” you threw your head back, unconsciously waving your body towards his face, practically griding on it.
Jake moaned with your praise, skilfully shaking his head whenever he flickered his tongue in your hole, just to rub your clit with his nose, before moving back to suck on it, entirely immersed on his duty to please you.
He was on cloud nine. 
Your taste flooding his senses, your body reacting to his stimulus, heating up and shivering under his precise touch, your pretty moans filling up the space straight into his ears, like angels singing – though he was sure you were a devil in disguise. 
Every noise coming from your throat was sending a rush of electricity directly into his dick, not to mention how your cunt became wetter and wetter with the lewd mixture of his own saliva and your arousal. Jake could die that moment and would be happy with it.
Reading the way your breathing grew heavy and feeling how you clenched around the tip of his tongue, Jake deduced you were near to the edge.
“I’m close–” You whispered, confirming his theory.
The knot on your stomach tightened when Jake began to focus mainly on your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, eager for your release – perhaps more than you. “I’m really close, Jak–”
Your arms nearly failed to keep yourself up as your orgasm hit, a long moan falling from your mouth interrupting your warning, your spine arching with the euphoria wave and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your juices coated Jake’s tongue, who took all of it proudly; you hissed feeling his mouth still working on your sensitive cunt, and you pulled him away by his hair.
Without a word Jake brought his lips to yours, making you taste yourself still hazy minded after your strucking climax. You groaned, slowly starting to move your hips to get down from the counter, Jake unconsciously helping you through it by supporting your weight until your heels landed on the floor. 
You lightly pushed Jake’s chest to move him away, meeting his dazed expression, one that had nothing to do with the alcohol in his veins. You grabbed the hem of his black shirt, quietly asking for him to remove it. And he did without hesitation.
"Fuck me," you demanded, taking a glimpse of his beautiful toned abs, a bit out of breath and even needier now. "Fuck me and watch you doing it through this mirror."
Jake flashed a quick grin, still recovering from the smothering and delightful feeling of being in between your legs, before fumbling with his belt, hands frantic undoing the button of his pants to slide them down.
You took your sweet time to thirst over the outline of his covered, extremely hard length, interrupting his actions by gripping his wrist, savoring the moment as you licked your lips, mouth watering.
“It’s a shame we cannot take much longer,” you started, fauxing innocence as you stepped closer just enough to touch him over his white boxers. A small, provocative chuckle coming from your throat before you murmured. “Really wanted to feel you in my mouth.” And then you kissed the corner of his parted lips.
Jake whimpered when you softly squeezed his neglected dick, leaning closer to you instinctively, holding onto the edge of the counter behind you while resting his sweaty forehead on your shoulder. His breath was heavy against your skin, where he pressed his lips a few times until reaching your earlobe, nibbling. 
Your sneaky hands entered the hem of his clothing piece to jerk him off; your teasing, deliberate moves were driving him insane. The way your warm palm rubbed his sensitive tip made his groans increase just as much as his pulse, and he moaned a bit louder when you finally freed his aching dick out of his boxers by pushing them down, allowing your hand to pump his shaft easier. 
With closed eyes, you enjoyed the waves of pleasure going down, directly to your cunt, making you wet again by hearing Jake’s sultry noises and hot breath brushing against your ear.
Your lips grazed along his jawline at the same time you threatened your fingers through his slightly dampened hair, disheveling it even more before pulling it away from the curve of your neck, so you could capture his mouth in a slow, passionate kiss.
"Condom?" You asked under breath after parting away from his mouth, slowing your hand on his dick. You noticed his body tensing right after your question, eyes growing wide in panic, which piqued your curiosity.
There’s no way he…
"Shit, I didn't bring–"
You let out a soft scoff, part laughter, part disbelief. Without missing a beat, your hands resumed their movement, this time teasing him by randomly stopping, repeating the motion a few times. His moans grew louder, hips bucking desperately against your hand as if seeking more, his mouth agape and eyes glistening with despair.
"What a naughty boy," you cooed, slowly shaking your head in a false disappointment. "Were you planning on going raw with me, Jakey?" You questioned, voice low, layered with playfulness. 
Jake winced, desperation growing inside his chest, fearing you to leave him now, when he needed you the most.
"N-No..." He shook his head, “I wasn’t– I forgot, I’m sorr–” 
"Unluckily we just met.” You interrupted. “I don't know you well enough to let you do that. Right?" 
Jake nodded, though he wasn't sure if he was truly following your words. You were loving to see him falling apart so easily, almost begging for you not to leave him through his messy moans. 
His breath hitched and he almost grabbed your hand in place when you let go from his hard, red and needy cock. "P–please…" He finally pleaded, holding your waist as his eyes searched for yours in complete despair.
You quirked an eyebrow, smirking at his endearing demeanor. "Aw, you really wanna fuck me, don't you?" You caressed his cheek with your clean hand, smiling.
“I really do,” Jake whispered, moving his head just enough to kiss your palm. “Please, let me–”
“Not without protection, Jakey,” you said firmly, although with a hint of teasing, because you had a way out of that situation without harming your health.
And the said solution was inside your purse, which got tossed on the ground at some point of your initial make out session with Jake. 
Jake's puppy sad eyes followed your every motion when you moved his hands off of your waist, thinking he had messed up completely. But then he saw you grabbing your bag and taking a condom off of it, showing to him with a playful grin.
"And lucky to us, I'm always prepared, Jakey.”
You slowly approached him again, his gaze catching the alluring sight of you gently opening the packaging using your teeth, while your eyes confidently remained locked onto his, loving to see his bewildered expression.
Without a word, you slid the condom on his length, stroking it a few times before turning your back to him, bending over the counter and lifting your dress, revealing the beautiful view of your bare ass.
Jake’s firm hands instinctively gripped your hips and he positioned himself behind you while biting his lip in anticipation, the thrilling excitement boiling stronger in his cock.
He searched for your eyes in the mirror in front of you two, and of course you were already looking at him through your hungry orbs, savoring the image of Jake’s craving your body.
"Now fuck me as desperate as you seem to be."
Your words hung in the air for seconds before Jake’s mind snapped away from your tempting view in the mirror; your boobs nearly jumping out of your neckline, lips swollen but carrying the same confidence, and your eyes. Your fucking eyes. Your devilish eyes. 
“Your desire is my pleasure, Y/N.” It was all Jake managed to say with his low, husky voice, before pushing deep into you.
Your mouth fell open with the breathtaking sensation of being filled up, and Jake began to slowly pump into you, giving you a little time to adjust. Or you thought so.
You still had no idea that he was already stepping near the edge of his own release, that being the reason for his deliberate hip rolls – there was no way in hell he was going to let the opportunity of enjoying your delicious squeezes around his dick slip away that easily.
“F–fuck,” his voice cracked as he whispered. “You f–feel amazing...”
You looked at Jake in the mirror after hearing how weakly his words came out, as if he were already lost in a haze of his own pleasure. And he truly was. A soft moan escaped your lips at the sight of his head tilted back, eyes closed, and mouth slightly parted, a faint smile gracing his lips.
When a specific deep thrust hit your g-spot, you almost cried out and Jake quickly paid attention to it. Then he bent you even more on the marble counter with one hand forcing your back, to ease his access to your sensitive area and help with his movements, speeding his hips the right amount to make you roll your eyes.
“T–that’s it...” You moaned. “Fucking me so good.” You praised and Jake groaned, his hands immediately sliding to cup one of your covered breasts, massaging it while keeping his pace, eyes locked at the insanely delightful view in the mirror.
A sequence of moans slipped out of your throat as Jake started fucking you hard and fast, desperately even. How your walls clenched tight around his cock was driving him insane, and he seeked for more of that addicting feeling.
The sound of the distant music did nothing to cover the slams sounds echoing the bathroom at that point, and honestly, neither of you cared anymore, far gone in your own pleasure.
At some point your own body started to encounter his pushes into you, but it wasn’t enough. So you straightened your posture a bit, tugging Jake’s hair while looking at his eyes in the mirror – his fucked up expression sending shivers down your spine. 
“Faster, Jake.” You urged, a bossy tone dripping out of your mouth like a sweet sugar that Jake grew obsessed with. And he instantly obeyed.
Your free hand cupped Jake’s on your boob and your eyes fluttered close while you tilted your head back, lost in the amazing feeling of Jake pounding into your g-spot, a mess of moans and whimpers coming from both of your mouths. 
Since he had his eyes open, Jake watched your body quivering with his thrusts, the fucking Prada logo on your dress shining with the dim light of the bathroom, your makeup slightly smeared due to the mess. It was completely out of this world how good you looked, and the way you were squeezing his dick together with the view, sent him even closer to the edge. 
“I’m gonna cum–” He said in one go, as an eager statement, not a warning, desperate to feel his release. 
Your breath started to quicken with his erratic pace, and you fluttered your eyes open again, catching the sight of Jake’s concentrated frown and mouth agape, letting out the prettiest moans you ever heard.
You said nothing, you just tightly gripped the hand on your chest and leaded it to your clit, inciting him to rub it for you. Jake got your message, and with all the overwhelming stimulus, your second orgasm hit, mouth falling open gasping for air as you supported yourself on the marble counter, your head falling forward while you kept on feeling Jake’s deep thrusts.
You clenched involuntarily around his dick, and that was enough for him to achieve his climax as well, resting his head on your shoulder, holding you close still.
Jake moved back with a hiss, completely dizzy and fulfilled. He removed the condom and tossed it onto the trashcan before dressing himself back again, helping you to recompose since your legs were shaky.
“Thank you,” you said in a hoarse voice when he offered you your purse and your panties, to which you decided not to wear again because, well, it was on the floor.
So you cheekily pushed into Jake’s pocket without saying a word, and he didn’t even noticed, too focused on looking out for you by supporting you to keep steady. 
You turned to the mirror, fixing your messy hair and makeup as best as you could. 
“How do we get out of this bathroom now?” Jake asked after the silence, watching you re-apply your red lipstick. 
You just smiled, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek to purposely leave a mark there. “Like this.” And you simply opened the door, not even caring about the instant stares you received as you did so, Jake following your lead right behind, a small shy smile adorning his lips. 
With a last goodbye look, you parted ways, your confidence evident in your stride, and Jake fumbling to smooth down his disheveled locks, now with the acknowledgment that the devil definitely wears Prada.
372 notes · View notes
slutspinks · 13 hours
Text
NOTHING HOLDIN’ ME BACK ! — ★ logan howlett.
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・˳ . ⋆ sum. you’ve seen him fight, move around his cage like a wild animal, made of hard muscle and thirsty for blood. but you’ve grown tired of him holding back— you’re finally letting him out.
pairing cagefighter!logan x bartender!reader
warnings fem!reader, praising, begging, fingering, nipple play, p in v, creampie, unprotected, no use of y/n but I used pet names (precious, babe…). so much use of the word slick, sorry not sorry.
wc 3.9K
★ an ★ omg, corn w/o plot? my speciality, please enjoy this piece of work I wrote at four am during insomnia 😃 forgive any mistakes, they just slip past my eyes sometimes and I don’t proofread my works, lol. So I don’t know if I made it justice, I just kind of wrote what was in my head, hope you enjoy it anyways :)
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Just like every other time you watched him from a distance, your heart would stop whenever one of his opponents managed to land a punch. But it didn’t matter—he remained standing. Steady.
As steady as his steps, pacing around the cage, eyeing his prey the way a lion eyes a gazelle, ready to pounce, sink its fangs in, spilling blood everywhere as it reveled in watching its victim fall.
Nothing was staged, though there were always rumors that someone helped him win, that it was simply impossible for him to take down his opponents so easily with just one punch to the jaw. You’d heard it all before, and you’d laughed every time. You knew who Logan was: a wild animal that couldn’t be tamed, thirsty for blood and victory—and maybe a few free shots of whiskey you managed to get him from the bar.
The place looked the same as always—smelled of cigarettes and aged whiskey, even the occasional hint of weed. But none of that could pull your attention away from the fight, from him.
There were nights were you had to make sure everything went as it should—no dirty moves, no corruption. Every corner of this dark, pretentious place was under your watchful eye. Besides, when you sometimes played as the timekeeper, you had the task of looking after him. And it’s not like it was a job you were paid to do—he just sought it out himself.
Before you got into all this fight business, you were just a normal woman working at a coffee shop in the city, taking orders left and right, spending your energy on a job that rarely compensated you fairly. But that’s just how things were... Or so you thought until you found this place: a basement of what used to be an apartment building, transformed into a run-down bar and the main entertainment hub for the slums. Cage fights seemed more interesting than a football match to these people.
At the start, you were hesitant about the idea, but you convinced yourself you’d enjoy it more and the pay was good.
When you first stepped into this place, your initial thought was that the floors were too sticky, filthy, and reeked of alcohol. But somehow, you got used to it, and the smell became a part of you—you could hardly notice it anymore, unlike those first few days you spent here.
Everything seemed monotonous at first; men fighting each other, trying to prove who had the bigger ego— maybe bigger dick.
You watched it all from a distance, serving drinks to drunken men who were just as thirsty for a fight, until everything changed.
He arrived.
Logan. The mysterious man nobody liked because everyone already had their favorite fighters, and when he showed up, everything went to hell. Literally.
Every time he stepped into that cage, he managed to knock out every single one of those idiots, leaving them with swollen eyes and dislocated jaws—some he even left unconscious.
Tonight was one of those many nights, where you lingered close and watched the fight, trying not to bite your lip every time, by pure luck and chance, one of his opponents managed to land a hit on his cheek. But they never had the upper hand—Logan always found a way to beat them, again and again.
Just as he always found a way to cage you inside his room after, keeping you to himself even though you tried to not get to involved, but you knew you were too far gone. You were too into him to care about the outcome, even worse when he made you enjoy it too much.
“Ah- Fuck”. You tremble on Logan’s lap, sweaty back resting on his broad chest while your hands hold the back of your thighs, keeping you open for him. He was the only one holding you up while he was knuckles deep inside your pulsating cunt. You tried not to bite too hard on your lip, but you already saw the way a clear sheet of slick coats down a single finger, and it has you clenching down harder, tighter.
“It’s just one finger, princess- you can take it”, he rasps, head leveled to your ear, while his other hand holds a glass of whiskey you managed to steal away for him; your hazy eyes looked around, noticing the small details your gaze always attached to when coming to his room: his leather jacket, his wife beater perched on the couch armrest, and the countless mags you left on the battered desk. But nothing was able to steal your attention for too long when the excitement from having him fingering you in his room had you curling your toes, along with the non-stopping motion of them.
“It’s so t-thick, I-I don’t think you’ll fit”, you babble out in broken words, referring to his dick. It’s been a few days since he’s been repeating the same cycle, eating you out then fingering you, preparing you to take his length— and even though you’ve had his dick in your mouth, he says is not the same.
It was your fault, really. You insisted you could take his fingers without him needing to eat you out, but you were already failing in the task. You felt your tummy churn in a line of zig zags as you sense him slowly sink another finger inside, leaving a burning trail behind. Your hand shot out to take his arm, curling around it to have something to ground yourself. “It f-feels weird”.
A breathy chortle leaves his lips, glass of whiskey lifting up, your gaze following the movement until it wasn’t in your line of sight anymore. His head goes back to his previous spot, stopping just a few inches from your ear, “I told ya, you wouldn’t be able to take them…”.
A frown etched on your features, sweaty brows knitting together at his words. Of course you could take them, he was just making fun of you because you weren’t thoroughly prepared like all those other times.
“I-I can take them”. You said, hand moving back to hold your leg, opening up even more for him. You could watch it in this position, and it made more slick gush out of your cunt, his covered finger kept pushing in and out slowly, patiently.
A tiny gasp leaves your lips when his index finger slides through your labia, scooping up more of your juices, teasing you. “You’re a big girl now? You think you can take it? Let’s see…”.
You hummed excitedly, your head moving up and down. You managed to get your ass a bit lower on his lap, your back sliding down just the right amount until it seemed you were going to sleep on his abdomen, chasing his fingers with your cunt.
You heard his low chuckle from behind, glass lifting up again to take a sip from his drink, “You’re so greedy, precious… but I’m holding back, just for you”.
You didn’t want that, you didn’t want him to hold back, you wanted his everything. Every finger he wanted to give you you’d accept it happily, didn’t matter if it hurt at first— you’d take the pain.
“Don’t hold back, I’ll be okay”, you assured, looking back at him. His hazel eyes were glued to you, lust and excitement swirling around in the depths of them, lips glistening from the whiskey he was nursing, you wanted to kiss him. “Gimme a kiss”, you plead, lips forming a pout when he shakes his head.
“Be patient, I’m busy fucking your cunt now, let me focus, mhm?”. Logan arched one brow, looking at you expectantly.
“Alright”, you mumbled, disappointment laced in your voice at him denying your request. He’d always kiss you afterwards, but you hoped he’d changed that when he noticed you were struggling.
“Don’t be sad, pretty girl, you’ll get your reward soon”, he promises, not stopping for a moment the sweet and slow pacing of his fingers, smiling at the way your cunt clenched when you heard the nickname. Your walls were more clingy than they were in a daily basis, sticking against them like glue. You gasped when you feel his index finger teasing your entrance, “Pleaseplease, I can take one more…”.
Logan keeps his gaze fixed on yours, finally putting it in. You felt a delicious sting, one that managed to scratch that itch in your foggy brain. You squirmed on his lap, hips lifting up just the right amount to ease the small discomfort. A grunt left his throat, fingers slipping out of your dripping walls to spank at your cunt, followed by your whine at the sting, so different from the one his finger caused.
“I thought you could take it”.
His hand rested next to your cunt, fondling your inner thigh affectionately— but he did nothing else. Logan acted nonchalant, drinking from his glass as if he wasn’t finger fucking you just seconds ago. Your thighs were still wide open, arms growing weary from how long you’ve been holding them.
“Logan?”. you call once, eyes glassy with unshed tears. He ignored you, gaze fixed on the old TV perched on the coffee table feet away from you and the boring news channel he was ‘watching’.
He hummed, not looking your way. You frowned once more, but this it was not caused by the delicious pace of his fingers, but for his peculiar way of ignoring you.
You were there, laid open for him, perky nipples and sopping wet cunt waiting to get fucked- be it his fingers or dick. But he was ignoring you, holding back.
You didn’t want him to hold back, you wanted his everything, one, two or four fingers— whatever he wanted to give you you’d accept it with open hands. But he didn’t want to hurt you, you knew the change in his demeanor the moment you lifted your hips, trying to ease the stinging pain, and though it was momentary, he stopped everything.
“Logan?”. you called once again, hand moving from your leg to hold his, trying to move him to your cunt so he can continue his ministrations, but he didn’t bulge. He held your thigh with more strength, slick covered fingers digging on your skin.
“If you want my fingers to fuck you, you’ve got to let me eat you out, if not then I can’t-”
“B-but I don’t want you to eat me out, you won’t fuck me with your dick if I’m too sore…”, you whined, lips pouting once more, watching his stoic face twitch just for a second and then a smirk finally appeared on his lips.
His fingers twitched too, caressing your outer labia with the tips— his other arm under your armpit, forearm glued to your ribs. You could see the condensation in the glass, drink almost finished, you were thirsty.
“Want some?”, he asked and you glanced back at him in thought, then nodding slowly. A grin spread across his mouth, pearly white teeth showing from between his pink lips. He moved the glass to drink from it, a disappointment feeling sinking deep into your chest when you noticed the drink was finished.
He noticed it in your features, the way you looked so disappointed thinking he was punishing you.
That’s why didn’t think he’d lower his head, lips attaching to your parted ones, liquid slipping to your mouth, a satisfied moan leaving your throat when the bitter liquid covered your tongue— mixed with his own saliva. It was utterly erotic to you, the way you shared everything, from his dog tags to his fluids.
All the time you were kissing, you felt his fingers move once more to your entrance, two of them breaching in at once— a gasp leaving your mouth the moment they bottomed out. Logan took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside, twirling it with your own, stroking the warm muscle. Saliva dripped from the corner of your mouth, slipping down to your chin.
His fingers hid inside your cunt walls, initiating a slow pace just like before, brushing that spongy spot with them. Your hand curled around his arm once more, feeling the hot skin beneath your fingers. Your back was sweaty, his chest and abdomen hair sticking to your skin.
“You’ve been so good, letting me do what I want, always”. He praised, a string of saliva formed after your heated kiss, keeping you somehow together even after he leaned back to plant a kiss on your head.
His digits moved at a faster pace now, the squelching sound your pussy made provoked his bulge to grow, a tent appearing in his pants beneath your lower back. The pain was too far gone, now you could only feel the pleasure.
“I think you can take a third, uh? You’re a big girl after all”, he asked teasingly, you could only nod effusively, pushing your hips further into his hand. As you still make a cute attempt at rocking your hips against his lap. He slowly inserts another thick finger inside. tightening around each one, you whine before your entire body jitters.
Logan chuckles deeply against your ear, feeling the claws of your nails seep into the flesh of his arm. "So three is the limit. I see…" and within three seconds, his digits pull out of your cunt. A slimey string of your wetness sticks against his fingers. as he looks down with an utmost hungry gaze, he brings his fingers up to his mouth before sniffing them.
He pops the three of them inside his mouth, his tongue devours your honeyed slick, brows furrowing in arousal before he takes them out, pressing them to your own lips. “C’mon pretty girl, taste yourself”.
Your lips happily part, and he puts two fingers inside, groaning when he noticed you greedily suck on them— thinking it was his dick you were sucking, not his fingers.
With a groan he takes them out, glass forgotten on the couch armrest and lifts you up, turning you around so you’re lying face down on his chest, dog tags digging into your cheek.
He takes the back of your neck and kisses you, a moan leaving your throat the moment your saliva mingling together. His slick covered fingers parted your ass cheek, scooping up more of your slick before putting his fingers back inside, fucking you faster, rougher.
Your head hid in the crook of his neck, arms enveloping his broad back tightly, as if it was the only thing that could keep your feet on the ground.
“We need to stretch it out, get it ready to take my dick, don’t wanna hurt this little girl”, he speaks, voice dripping with lust and it made heat pool beneath your cheeks.
“Logan? I-I don’t want you to hold back…”, you mumble, ass lifting higher, knees digging in the battered couch. “Want you to be rough, I- if that’s what you want…” your voice lowered with each word, shame finally settling in your brain.
With a final thrust of his fingers, he pulled them out, taking your waist and positioning you above the couch, the leather dampening with your sweet and juices.
His hands gripped your thighs, forcing them open once again after you closed them in shame, “Don’t hide from me”.
Your arms hugged your chest, trying to cover your breasts from his sight, you were growing shy on him and he didn’t like that. Not even a bit.
“Stop that”, he said, tugging your hands off your chest, pinning them above your head. Your eyes avoided his, not wanting to meet his gaze, “Look at me”. He demanded, meaty thighs accommodating between yours, preventing you from closing them.
You look at him after a few seconds from looking at the humidity spot in the wall, “Need ya to tell me if it’s hurts, if you want to stop”.
Your head shakes up and down, “Okay”.
He nods in agreement and releases your hands, trailing his own down your body, stopping on your breasts, twirling the nipples between his index and forefinger, fondling the soft mounds in his much bigger hands. Then continued on his way, touching your ribs, waist and halting on your hip bone, thumb caressing the bone protruding from the skin.
He still had his jeans on, a wet spot staining them on the front, your juices. It made your pussy clench around nothing, skin heating up once again.
His hands hastily pulled his belt off, zipping his pants down, lowering them just the right amount to take his cock out through the front.
A gasp left your lips, mouth hanging open at the sight of his hard shaft, the angry tip leaked precum, the pearly white droplets making your mouth water. You’ve had him in your mouth before, you’ve tasted his skin and cum, the saltiness of his skin equals the one from his fluid and it makes your tongue tingle with anticipation. He watches the look you give him, the need for it you showed but he quickly denied you.
“Not tonight babe, I’m gonna fuck you now and nothing’s gonna stop me”.
Logan fisted it in his palm, giving it a few tugs before bringing it closer to your pussy, head rubbing up and down on it, covering it in your slick, wetting it to perfection.
He swirled it around your clit, covering it in his cum, mixing his fluids with your own. Finally, his angry tip hooked on your entrance, making his way until you felt it was completely in.
It was a tight fit, your cunt felt like a big pole tried to enter you, but it was just the tip.
“Relax, you’re doing it good”, Logan mumbled, head thrown back and eyes closed. You tried to relax, to listen to him and loosen up a bit but the pressure was too much— you didn’t felt that way with his fingers.
“It’s not going to fit”, you repeat the same words from the start, thinking how dumb it was of yourself to think you could take that huge thing in between your legs. You tried to move back, forearms planted on the couch wanting to get away from his dick, but he stopped you.
“You told me to not hold back, and you’re doing the opposite thing… be good yeah? I really wanna fuck you”, he admitted, halting your movements.
You were going to try, just for him.
You both stayed still for a moment, he rejoiced in the way your spongy walls clenched around his hard shaft, and the way your chest heaved up and down, making your breasts jiggle slightly.
He tried not to cum, really tried. And he also tried not go all the way inside you, he didn’t want to hurt you.
“I’m gonna put it all in, yeah?”.
He finally asked and you could only nod, watching and feeling the way his dick leisurely entered. After a few seconds of trying, he finally bottomed out, balls pressed against your ass. It was a tight fit, of course, the stinging feeling from before was present too, but it was even worse than his fingers.
A small cry left your lips, eyes glassy and teeth biting down on your lips. Logan’s eyes softened, hand moving from your thighs to rest on your cheek, wiping the tear off with the pad of his digit. “Shh, it’ll be alright”. He assured.
He waited a few minutes, watching the way a few tears slid down your cheeks, wiping them off like before and whispering sweet things to you, to soothe you.
Logan realized you were ready the moment you started to squirm, tears stopping and heat returning to your cheeks, traveling down to your neck and chest.
“I’m gonna move now, is that okay?”, he asked, waiting for a verbal confirmation that everything was alright.
“Yeah, ‘m okay”.
When he heard those words, he finally let himself move. In and out, a steady and slow pace at first, then he started to fuck you harder. His dick hit your cervix, head stroking your vulva with greediness.
You knew he was holding back, you felt it. It didn’t hurt anymore, at least for now, but he was still holding back— you noticed it in his features, his frown and tight jaw gave him away. You wanted him to be him, to do what he wanted with your body. You wanted him to act the same way he acts in the cage.
You elevated a bit from your spot, reaching to his cheek with your hand, he was so tall you didn’t touch it at first, but he hunched over so you could.
“I-I told you to not hold b-back”, a whimper left your mouth when he hit that spot, a euphoric sensation spreading through your lower abdomen and legs. He noticed it, and he began to thrust faster.
He gripped the leg dangling from the side of the couch and made it lift to your chest, it felt completely different from moments before. You felt his dick hitting deeper, and you didn’t know if it was your imagination that made you sense the veins in his dick rubbing against your walls.
You looked down, trying to watch the way he slipped in and out of you, you only managed to catch a small glance, but it was the most erotic scene you’ve witnessed. Nothing you’ve ever done compares to this, not even when you’d finger yourself in front of the wall mirror at your apartment.
“Fuuck”, he groaned, hips snapping rapidly, the smacking sound being the only thing you heard in the small, deteriorated room, along with his grunts and your moans, that got higher and higher every time he bottomed out. “Are you good?”.
You’re too fucked dumb to reply, and Logan’s pace grows more and more erotic. The couch creaks again and again, your head spinning. You could sort of feel the rough fabric of his halfway pulled down jeans against your ass each time he hits himself against you,
He smiles and keeps the pace, hand traveling down to rub on your clit gently, he didn’t want to overstimulate you— for now.
“Yes yes there”, you chant, your smaller hand holding his wrist, tugging it forward to press harder on your bundle of nerves.
And without further notice, the thread snaps. Your tummy churns and your legs spread even wider, if that was even possible, your body trembles as it contracts and gives Logan everything you have left to offer. You squeeze his dick, moaning wildly as his pace never falters, urging you to stay in the state of euphoria a bit longer.
Then you feel it too, his cum leaking from inside your cunt dripping down onto the couch, seeing the way his dick slips out from you and glistens with your mixed arousal. His eyes fixed on his cum gushing out from your pussy, doing his best to hold back.
You watched it too, and It made your pussy clench again, he obviously noticed it but he just chuckled and shook his head, putting a stray hair behind your ear.
“Easy there, we just fucked, we’ve got plenty of time to do it again”.
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Note
Can you please write rough smut for grey hair Emily Prentiss that’s just… total shameless filth😭 like choking, breeding kinks, semi public sex (in her office)
I could eat that girl for lunch
Emily prentiss x Fem!reader
Warning: smut 18+, breeding kink, semi public sex, breast kink, spitting kink, choking kink, praise kink, mommy kink, one slap, slight cunniligus, fingering, slight strap fucking, etc.
A/N: oh I lost it with this one🤭enjoy sorry it took so long 😭
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You knew it was wrong to think of your boss Emily in such a way.... but God damn it. You just couldn't control yourself anymore. I mean come on she's the Emily prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, who wouldn't be obsessed with her, sorry in love with her. She was insufferable, almost irresistible like a drug. The way she would bite her lips when ever she laughed or was focused on something very important.
Or The way she held her hands in her pockets and stood against door frames or leaned against desks. The way her hips would sway whenever she struts down the hallway towards her office and finally, the way she looks at you. The way this woman would look at you was everything. Her eyes, they were always glued to you when you were busy doing your work. She thought you didn’t notice her but gaze detection is a real thing that works.
Emily would stare at you as if she wanted to devour you. And it always made you weak. It made your skin get heated and your mind go dizzy. You couldn’t focus when her eyes were on you, it was as if every cell in you wanted to explde. The time you wore a strapless shirt to work because it was too hot out, and for the entire day she couldn't find the decency to stop her eyes from roaming over your collarbone and shoulders, and the other time you wore a mini skirt and a top that had a zip in the middle that was pulled down just enough to see your cleavage. She went nuts.
Emily knew of your angel face, but she didn’t let that fool her. She knew you had dirty thoughts of her, you even went as far as making a dirty jokes about her. One time she overheard Jennifer asking you if you were to fuck anyone in the office who would you fuck and you had chosen 'Emily'.
You always had a thing for older women, and everyone in the office knew, so maybe it’s obvious that you had quite a massive crush on your boss as well. You heard rumors of Emily being “ talented” with her tongue and “skilled” with her fingers. You did have the privilege to meet one of Emily’s ex-girlfriends at a seasonal greeting event, and by her words “ Emily almost took her out of the world”.
You did try to do your work as best as possible and tried your very hardest to keep out of her way. And for some time it had seemed to work. Emily caught onto the drift and sensed that you were giving her the cold shoulder and the both of you stuck to strictly business and work professional procedures and encounters. But none of this stopped Emily from winking at you from time to time and even going as far as moving you aside by your waist using her hands when you were both in the kitchen getting lunch at the office.
Her hands in your waist sent electric shocks throughout your body, and each time she gave you a sly smirk. You did try to ignore her most of the time. And for a while it lasted.
So tonight you don’t know what possessed you to sneak into Emily’s office. There was a big case that was on the table and it required all hands on deck. You had decided to stay back and help Emily crack some codes but after half an hour in she left. It was pretty late, around 10:38 PM and you were exhausted. Your eyes flicked up to inspect your surroundings because sometimes people break into police departments to steal evidence.
That’s when you saw her that her office light was on and had decided to go turn it off and then after you would finish pack up and then leave . It wasn’t the first time being in her office, but it was the first time alone, by yourself….. with just her stuff. Her jacket was thrown on the back of her chair and a couple of her personal belongings sprawled out on her desk. You had already checked for cameras and any audio devices, there were none. So you took off your pants and panties, shirt and bra leaving yourself completely naked in your boss office.
Absolutely downright crazy, bat shit crazy. You sit in her chair and gently began fingering yourself at a slow pace, but quickly increased it as you became more desperate and needy. Your eyes were tightly shut closed, as your hand worked it’s magic down between your legs. All that can be heard was the wet sounds your cunt was making when you thrusted your fingers in your pussy, your weak hoasty moans and your loud and elaborate breathing as you neared your peak.
Your orgasm washed over you almost knocking you out of the chair and onto the floor causing you to topple over yourself . Your eyes hastily as you swallowed thickly and bit your lips.
“ well” a voice says, half disappointed half surprised. Your eyes snap up towards the entrance of the office to see Emily standing there. Her expression was unreadable. You felt all the blood drain from your face as your entire body freezes with both fear and shame. Emily smirked at you before she took a step into the room, closing and locking the door behind her ( you forgot to close the door?!) . She took slow strides towards the table as she pushed her hands into her pocket.
“ you know I really thought you were just a shy little good girl who knew her worth and knew how to ask for things…. But I guess I was totally wrong wasn’t I?” She asked, carefully walking around the desk, she stopped and stood in a position where she was pressing all her weight on one foot as she titled her head, inspecting you. She chuckled silently and further approached you.
“ could have fooled me babe” she says plainly, she then grabs you by your jaw and forces your face upwards to look at her. Still you remain frozen. A part of you couldn’t believe you had gotten into this situation and another part wanted to curl up into a ball and completely disappear for all eternity, never to be seen again.
“ look at you, I stood there for over 20 minutes, all in which you did nothing but fuck yourself senseless to the thought of me, don’t you see it now y/n your my slut” she says, purring the last two words, that may have reheated something in you because you need her all over again.
“ uh oh, what’s wrong? Cat got your tongue? Or did you lose your voice after screaming my name so loud? Oh Emily , fuck yes Emily, fuck me Emily” she mocked you and that’s when a realization of being naked hits you. You were completely bare before this woman. In her own office. Such a shame.
Emily’s eyebrow quirked in amusement as she looked at you shy away from her and look everywhere but into her dark eyes. She took the opportunity to look at your body intensely. With a silent hum her eyes wondered down your chest, stoping to look at your breast and how perked your nipples were. She then moved further down your body and her eyes landed on your vagina, from the way you were sitting she couldn’t see much but just the thought of fucking it got her going.
In one swift moment Emily grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto the desk. You whined at the sudden action and prompted yourself up onto your elbows to remove some objects from behind of your back before you proceeded to lay down. Your legs opened up involuntarily which caused Emily to smirk as she stood between them causing them to spread even wider. Regardless of your previous orgasm you were already so desperate for this woman’s touch.
Emily took off her jacket and soon everything else went with it. She was bare in just her pants alone. You wanted her to remove it but you were too mesmerized by her stern breast to give a shit. Her pants were high waisted but allowed you to see her toned abs a little. God you wanted her so badly. Your shaking hands made their way up to her skin and you gently placed your hand on her abs admiring them, god she must work out real good. For a moment you thought that you were lost in heaven until you felt her remove your hand.
“Getting touchy now are we? That’s slutty behavior” she laughed, she loved teasing you and seeing you squirm beneath her. This wasn’t the first time Emily had you under this choke hold. There were many other times where she was able to get under you skin….. but those are stories for another time. She leaned down and hovered her lips over your mouth, contemplating if she should give into you or let you go crazy over her some more. Even though Emily could see the pleading look in your eyes she knew better than to give the devil what she wanted.
Emily chuckled as she removed a strand of hair from your already sweaty forehead to behind your ear. Her hand stayed there, behind your neck, for a while her grasp tightening every few seconds which caused you to release a quiet moan from your throat. Emily looked down at you in deep thought before her eyes flicked down to your lips. Her thump caressed your jaw for a little while before she spoke.
“ open your mouth” her request definitely caught you off guard but the way she said it made your thighs clench but you remember that she was laying between them, making it hard to do so. You looked up at her confused as your breathing got shallow. You gulped and did as she asked. For a while she did nothing but then she opened her mouth and slowly poured her saliva into your mouth.
You were a little disgusted because back in high school you were always the one to say that you’d never allow anyone to do this to you but things have changed, it’s Emily fucking prentiss. Sorry. It’s mommy. And something about this just turned you on more because you could feel the slick that was pooling between your thighs from your pussy. Emily stopped and watched you close your mouth. She gave you a look and you knew what she was asking without words. You swallowed. She then started kissing you. It was rough but slow at the same time, she made you feel as though you had all the time in the world.
She broke the kiss before you even had a chance to deepen it as she moved down to your breast. She left pecks all across your chest, small sucks and bites that will most definitely leave marks later on, not that you care. She continued her assault until she moved down to your nipple. She swirled her tongue around the small bud first before she looked up at you with mischievous eyes before then enveloped the entire bud into her mouth. Your head fell back and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to just feel. She abused the small bud by gently biting it and sucking on it like a baby enjoying your moans.
Her hand fondled with the other neglected breast as the other made it’s s way down to your pussy, Emily knew you weren’t paying attention to her works so without notice she carefully pulled your lace pink panties to the side and inserted two fingers at the same time without warning. Your back arched as your eyes rolled back. Your hands immediately flew to the edge of the table for support. Emily smirked and released your nipple with a ‘ pop ’ sound as saliva made a bridge from her mouth to the bud to which she broke by licking her lips.
“ that’s it baby, just like that? You like when mommy gives you what you want without you having to ask her?” You couldn’t even respond to her, your mind was clouded with her insufferable praises, perfume and god did her fingers do a number on you. Everytime her digits slid out of you and back in her lips twitched. The sound of your cunt squelching against her fingers and your petty moans and grunts as your body began to spams made Emily want to do more despicable things to you until you couldn’t walk.
“ fuck so good, this is squeezing my fingers so fucking good baby, I wish I had a fucking real cock to split you open with, get you pregnant with my babies, you’d like that huh?” She whispered, increasing her pace as she curled her fingers deeper into you cunt, touching your g-spot every few seconds as she buried her fingers knuckle deep into you. You could feel your skin heat up as a familiar feeling of pleasure built up within your lower abdomen. Your hips bucked up towards every thrust of her fingers as your hand grabbed her wrist to slow her actions, you wanted to last longer to prove to her that you weren’t just some cum hungry slut. But that would be pointless because you are just a cum hungry slut.
But with her praises and her fingers moving at the speed of light it was truly impossible. You tried to pull it off a little longer but you couldn’t.
“ I feel you clenching me so tight baby, let it go for mommy, I wanna feel you drench my fingers so bad baby” she purred in your ear, her breath hot against your skin, and with that sentence you came for her. You eyes rolled back and you could feel your juices pouring out of you and onto her fingers. Emily kept fucking you drawling out every whimper, twitch and cry that you had to give. You were completely dumbstruck and spiraling.
You felt as she withdrew herself from between your legs as the sound of her jeans being removed. You stayed there trying to catch your breath. You looked down to Emily and that’s when you see her pulling off her pants completely, a strap around her waist. It was a clear light purple with small glitter pieces in it and it was huge. Without even realizing you tried to back away from her but Emily was two steps ahead, catching onto what your intentions were she pulled you back down by your ankles and forced your legs apart.
Emily placed her hands under your knees and pushed them up above your chest. You’ve never seen any strap that big or long and you anticipated how well she’d fuck you with it for your first time. It was as if you became a virgin again.
“ why are you running now darling? You wanted mommy to fuck you so badly when you were in here all by yourself. Your gonna take it like a good girl now” her tone was so dark and seductive it made your skin crawl and your insides burn with desire.
She pinned your hands above your head and slowly sank the tip of her cock into you forcing a moan out of you. Your eyes slammed shut as you tried to focus on the stretch, the way she made the pain and the pleasure mix so good. She let loose of your hands and gently started choking you. The deeper she buried herself within you the more your eyes would roll back and your legs would quiver. You desperate pleas of moans and cries filled the room as Emily started thrusting into you with full force. Deep and fast the tip bruising your sweet spot every time.
Emily angled her hips ever so slightly, just enough to push her cock up against your cervix. Gently at first, but when she heard the mewl that escaped your mouth at her action and the way your body convulsed it became rougher each time. You trembled as she kept thrusting into you.
“ oh— oh GOD— Emily please, fuck I can’t TAKE IT ANYMORE” you cried but it fell on death ears. You tried to close your thighs to eliminate how well her cock drives into you but Emily’s grip on your neck made you mind mush. Continuing your attempt you tried to move away from her but that resulted in you getting a hard smack across your face as she choked you much rougher. Her nails digged into the flesh out your waist as she started pounding your pussy brutally whispering insults that you couldn’t quite hear due to your moans and the sound of her thighs connecting with your slick.
“ fuck that’s it, right there? Mhm? Right fucking there” she cooed as she pushed your legs further apart and circled her hips as she made her thrust more curved. Your body began to tremble and Emily chuckled as she looked down at the white circle ring around her cock. She felt as your body tensed up and you let out a pornographic moan of her name. She kept thrusting after you came until you whined and pushed her away with a hand on her abs. She pulled out and kneeled down eye level with your cunt.
She cleaned up the mess with her tongue. Cautiously sucking and pulling at your clit until you pushed her head away. She smiled at her work and at herself and looked up at you. Your chest raised and fall with every breath you took and your thighs were still shivering. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before whispering.
“ round two? We’ve got all night and I’m sure i recall you saying your flexible….”
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simplygojo · 22 hours
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Public Display of Humiliation
Author’s Note: Hey friends!!! I wrote this little blurb a while ago and figured I’d post it now since I am just working away on a few of y’all’s requests! TYSM to everyone who has requested something, I love all the ideas so much and I LOVE Y’ALL!!!
I hope you enjoy this short blurb, this is my first shorter piece of writing!:) Also, heads up for you beautiful people, I am doing something super special to give back to y’all when I reach 1k followers (we are 140 away!)!!!
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x f!reader
Inspiration/summary: Gojo gets a kick out of embarrassing you—he likes to watch how flustered you get trying to shut down his antics—he likes to watch the pink warmth rush to your cheeks as he makes you the centre of attention, at all times.
Word Count: 0.8k (blurb/hc)
Warnings: Second hand embarrassment hehe, not even edited once
Requests are open! Please read the Request Guidelines before submitting a request <33
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Gojo absolutely lives to embarrass you in public. It’s like he makes it his personal mission to see how red your face can get before you explode from sheer humiliation.
Whether it’s dragging you through busy malls, crowded streets, or even your local café, nowhere is safe from his antics.
It usually starts off innocent enough—just the two of you grabbing coffee or shopping for the day. You’ll be holding his hand, trying to pretend like he isn’t up to something (which, of course, he always is), and that’s when it happens.
Out of nowhere, Gojo stops in the middle of the crowd, wraps your arm around his waist, pulling you closer as he trapped your hand.
“Excuse me!” He’d shout, catching the attention of every passerby.
“Can someone help me? This woman’s trying to kidnap me!” His voice echoes through the busy walkway, and you feel every single pair of eyes turning toward you.
People whisper, some are confused, others look concerned. Your heart drops, and you try to pull away, but his grip tightens as he grins down at you with those impossibly blue eyes sparkling with amusement.
“Gojo, stop it!” You hiss through clenched teeth, trying to maintain some dignity. But he just tilts his head, giving you the most innocent look he can muster.
“Why? Are you denying that you’re my kidnapper? Look at her, everyone!” he laughs, holding you even closer.
The worst part? People start smiling, realizing it’s all a joke, and suddenly you’re the center of attention while he’s just standing there, thriving off your embarrassment.
And when he’s not making you the subject of some dramatic performance in public, he’s pulling his other favorite move—telling strangers you’re related. Just as you’re about to pay at the cashier or make a casual purchase, he’ll lean in casually, completely straight-faced, and say,
“Yeah, she’s my favourite cousin.” The poor cashier or barista just looks between the two of you awkwardly, especially since you both *look nothing alike*. But before you can even open your mouth to correct him, he grabs your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands, and plants the most obnoxious, lingering kiss on your lips.
You go completely still, your face burning hot as you feel everyone around you pause in shock, wondering what kind of "relationship" you two really have. And when Gojo finally pulls away, he does it slowly, like he’s savoring every second of your mortification.
“What? I can’t kiss my *cousin*?” he’ll say, feigning innocence while the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him.
“Oh my god Satoru please shut up—That’s not true!” You’d shout, trying to hide the visible embarrassment you were in.
The people nearby exchange confused, amused glances while you stand there, frozen and speechless, torn between wanting to crawl into a hole and slap the smirk right off his face.
His favorite stunts are always the unexpected ones. You’ll be walking side by side, and out of nowhere, he’ll scoop you up, throwing you over his shoulder like some kind of damsel in distress.
“Help! Help! Someone call the cops, I’m being abducted by this woman!” He’d yell as you pound your fists against his back, furiously kicking your legs while people stare, laughing at the absurdity of it all.
He’d carry you around like that for a good minute or two, even stopping to chat with strangers while you’re still dangling over his shoulder, your face practically glowing with embarrassment.
And of course, no one ever takes him seriously.
They laugh along with him, completely entertained by his theatrics while you’re left to deal with the humiliation. Every time you beg him to stop, he just grins and says, “Aww, come on, y/n. You look so cute when you’re flustered.”
It’s infuriating, the way he can so effortlessly push your buttons and have you turning red in seconds, all while he’s cool, calm, and utterly shameless.
But as much as you hate to admit it, you know that deep down, he loves it. Seeing you flustered, watching you get all worked up, is his favorite kind of entertainment.
And no matter how embarrassed you get, no matter how many times you threaten to never go out with him again, he never stops.
Because, in Gojo’s mind, teasing you in public is just another way of showing how much he loves you—even if it does mean turning you into a blushing mess in front of half the city.
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chleem · 2 days
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Flashing lights prologue
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Series; actor Drew x actress reader
Summary: Drew gets involved in the worst scandal of his career. One way to solve it? Proving to the whole world that he’s the sweetest lover to exist. Who better to help than the one person he can’t stand? You, an A class actress with an alcohol addiction. So, will Drew clear up his reputation, or leave with a bigger mess to clean up?
Genre: fake dating, enemies to lovers(?, slow burn, angst, smut,
Warning: mentions of alcohol, swearing, mentions of k!lling oneself, mentions of rape & sa, mentions of drug usage, smoking & vaping,
⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me
⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read
♡⸝⸝ ps: chapter one soon! index
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Talk about a scandal. 
‘Drew Starkey, rising star from OBX, impregnates girl and refuses to take responsibility.’ ‘Drew Starkey impregnates girl and forces her for an abortion.’ ‘All to know about OBX star that SA a girl.’
Even an interview starring a random girl that claims to be pregnant with Drew’s child. 
If Drew knew going to the club a week ago would cause such big damage to his career, he would have never stop foot in there. But being stubborn and a sucker for fun, he just needed the relaxation that clubbing would offer. 
His PR manager Henry, who Drew’s only sees once a year, is surprisingly quiet. He sits across Drew, staring at his laptop. His typing makes up for the quiet and tense (at least for Drew) atmosphere in his manager’s office. 
“I’m sorry,” Drew starts, genuinely, his eyes shifting between his manager Jeff and Henry. “Look, I don’t know who that woman is. She’s lying, alright? I didn’t even talk to any strangers last night. Just my friends. And I was careful with how much I drank-”
“Calm down, we didn’t accuse you of it,” Jeff chuckles, also surprisingly calm and not scolding Drew. Normally, Jeff would scold Drew so hard that it took Drew back to the days of being coached by his dad. “I’ve worked with you for almost ten years, I know you wouldn’t do that.”
Hold up. Was this a dream? He fucked up real bad, why were his managers so forgiving? So… calm? This felt way too strange. They should be furious right now, thinking of a solution and threatening to kill Drew. So why were they so gentle with this situation?
Drew adjusts his hat, pocking his tongue against his cheek. Without thinking, he simply says, “What?”
Jeff glances at Henry, who nods, looking up from his laptop. Drew furrows his eyebrows at Jeff, who simply looks away as Henry starts. “Fine, Drew. We’re all fucking pissed at your mistake. Do you know how many sponsors have asked to break up your contract? Even after we’ve came up with a clean statement? For fuck’s sake, Drew. You’re fucking thirty now, and you still act like a fucking child!”
Drew licks his lips looking away. Okay, this was the Henry he saw yelling at other artists, and what he expected when he walked into the office this morning. But now that he was yelling at him, it felt horrible still. After all, who likes to be yelled at? 
“I’ve had to pull multiple strings to help you, to clear your name up. So you better hope this is your last mistake,” Henry continues. 
Drew couldn’t help but ask, “what did you do?”
“We’ve come up with a plan,” Henry says, walking over to the printer. He grabs the paper, taking a quick look before placing it on the table in front of Drew.
Drew’s eyebrows furrow, sensing something really strange. 
And he was right. On the top of the paper, it read, “Fake dating Proposal.”
What the fuck. He reads through the first sentence in his head, with widen eyes, “In order to save Drew Starkey’s career, he must conduct a year-long fake relationship with Y/n Y/l/n.”
He falls back in his seat. “You’re not fucking serious. This is the strings you had to pull? This is fucking ridiculous! How is this-“
“Drew!” Jeff yells, making him shut up. His face was slightly red, sweat dripping down his forehead. “Drew, trust us. We wouldn’t cause more harm. This, this will save your career, save you.”
“but out of anyone-“ Drew adjusts his hat once again. “Out of anyone, and you chose her?”
“She’s the best choice of right now, and the only one who even agreed. Drew. You’re not in the place of choosing. You sign, and you accept it. Or it’s the end.”
He couldn’t believe himself right now. Literally. Out of every solution, every person, it had to be you. You, the one person he can’t stand. You, the one person that gets him worked up and annoyed. It was like the end of the world for him. 
Worse, his manager seems to agree with this solution. As if he doesn’t know how much Drew despises you. Jeff places the pen next to Drew. “I hate to say this, but Drew, you’re screwed unless you do this. We see the vision, and in a few years, you’ll see it too. Just, just treat this as another acting class, okay?”
Do I have a choice anyways, he thinks. Drew rubs his face in annoyance. Fuck. Damn you and damn himself. Getting into this stupid situation in the first place. 
He looks at the contract again. Sees your name again. And his head hurts a thousand times worse than a hangover. 
He reads through the contract terms, cringing at it. 
‘Must show up at five or more public evens together.’
‘Must show PDA at public events, such as touching, holding hands, kissing etc.’
‘Y/n Y/l/n must talk sweetly about Drew Starkey, and steer away any negative comments.’
‘During the course of this fake-relationship, being seen with any other costar of the opposite sex is forbidden.’
Much more was listed, at least twenty terms were on this contract alone. So this is the real thing. 
And at the bottom, Drew sees what was offered. Wow. You get offered millions of dollars, while all Drew receives is a clear to his scandal. 
He should at least get half the amount you’re earning, considering that he has to put up with you. “How can she get so much cash?” Drew asks, curiosity killing him. 
“Because she’s got nothing to gain from being with you,” Jeff states matter-of-factly, that hurt Drew’s ego more than it should have. He also noticed how much money this was, almost all the money he earned from acting in OBX. Wow. So not only were you a moody bitch, but a greedy one as well. 
Drew rubs his eyes aggressively, a frustrated yawn coming out. He so is going to regret this. The worst decision he ever has to make. 
You better be the savior to his career, or he was going to kill himself. 
Drew signs, pushing the paper away as if it had some kind of disease. 
Henry forces a smile, grabbing the paper. Drew gets ready to leave, but Henry stops him. “Where are you going?”
“Home. I- that was enough for me.”
“No, no. You’re going to Y/n’s filming set.”
“What?”
“Yes, you heard me. Her manager gave the green light, so you’re going.”
“Fuck, it’s only like, a minute since I signed.”
“Hey, I’m saving you right now,” Henry says. “Now, you want your sponsors back or not?”
Drew curses under his breath, never wanting to punch a wall as much as right now. “Fine. I'll go. But I can’t promise that I’m hugging or touching her or anything. She’s a complete stranger to me.”
“We just need a couple of photos to leak out,” Jeff says, grabbing his jacket. “I’ll drive you there.”
“Fucking hate you Jeff,” Drew says, walking out the office. “Henry you asshole.”
Either his managers heard and said whatever, or they didn’t care. But cursing at people who's helping him ‘save’ his career was the least of his worries. His head is just consumed with meeting you again, the brattiest bitch he's ever known.
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word count: 1.2k
ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i'm sooo happy for the support and how much people liked the teaser! i was giggling seeing the reblogs and likes.
anyways, thought i should release a prologue first, to give drew's pov of this situation. apologies in advance for y/n's character and anyone who can't handle her! but i'm so excited for you guys to read ch1, which will be released later this week! like or comment to show support, really appreciate it <3
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buckyshoneybunny · 2 days
Text
Their Babydoll
WinterWidow + Shy!Stark!Curvy!reader 
Summary- Bucky and Natasha take a liking to the shy designer. 
W.C.- 2212 
Warnings- Smut, fluff, cursing, unprotected sex, oral (fem, reader), cum eating, let me know if I missed anything. 
A/N- I hope you guys like! Sorry if the smut sucks, I was tired lol. I know these fics are usually Bucky x Reader x Steve but I would want Nat more. Anyway I already have an idea for a new series and it includes Biker Bucky! Not proof read, all mistakes are mine. Hope you enjoy it my lovelies!  
Masterlist 
“Please Uncle Tony!” You beg for the hundredth time.  
“No,” he says, not even looking up from the device he was tweaking.  
“But-” 
“No,” he interrupts you.  
You stick your bottom lip out and give your best puppy eyes. It would always work when you were younger. Now though? 
“No”  
You groan and cross your arms. You smile to yourself. “You know, Aunt Pepper has been wondering what happened to her-” 
“Okay! Okay,” he sighs and pushes the protective glasses further up his nose as he looks at you. “There’s no need to bring Pepper into this.” 
You giggle and lean your hip against the table he’s working at. “You always were afraid of Aunt Pepper.” 
“I’m not afraid of her,” he huffs. “I just happen to have a healthy amount of respect for her.”  
“You’re afraid of her, Tony,” Bruce pipes up from across the lab.  
You giggle as Tony sends you and Bruce a glare.  
“Why do you even want to use the holographic interfaces?” Tony asks. 
“Because it would make designing floor plans so much easier! Using your tech would help me with the critical parts of my job.”  
“But you don’t even know how to use them.” 
“You could teach me.” 
“But I don’t hav-” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he huffs.  
You squeal and hug him. “Thank you, Uncle Tony!”  
He pats your arm, “Yeah yeah.” 
Most people didn’t know Tony had a sister; hell no one knew he actually had any siblings until you showed up with your stuff one rainy day. 
Freshly 19 and ready to make a name for yourself in the world of Interior Design, you’d moved to New York thinking this was the best place to do so. 
Your mother, Tony’s younger sister only by a few years, called to express her worry of you moving there and being alone.  
So, Tony being the ever so giving person he is, and a few not-so-subtle threats from your mother, told you that you could stay at the Avengers Tower. You were furious, ranting about how you wanted to make it on your own and didn’t need any help. But when he mentioned you’d get to meet and spend time with the Avengers, you quickly got over it. 
You were so excited to meet the Avengers, you’d always had a major crush on Bucky. You even wrote a paper about him for your history class in the 6th grade. His sparkling steel blue eyes taking you captive. You wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through his shoulder length brown hair, hoping it’s as soft as it looks. And you can’t forget those full, pink lips that could make a gal melt like butter on hot asphalt.  
But he was taken, by your second favorite Avenger, Natasha Romanoff. You definitely had a girl crush on her. She was so strong and skilled, every womans idol. She was the reason you tried and failed at learning how to fight. So what if you were thicker than the other girls? Yeah okay, you had thick thighs, a pudgy, soft stomach and flabby arms, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t learn some moves like the other girls. To be fair though, that instructor was a womanizer. 
He said, and I quote, that you’d ‘never make it anywhere in life looking like that’. Boy did you prove him wrong. You were one of the best Interior Designers in New York, you had a special touch that other designers didn’t have. And you loved your job, you loved bringing peoples dreams to life and seeing the joy on their face.  
You enjoyed it, but it wasn’t always easy. The meticulous planning, writing up contracts, getting a crew for certain aspects in and out on time could be grueling at times, but seeing the looks on your client’s faces when they’d see the finished product was always worth it.  
You had been worried when you first got to the Tower, worried the other Avengers wouldn’t like you. It was all for nothing though because they absolutely loved you, you were a part of their dysfunctional family now and they had no plans of letting you go. Everyone had really taken a liking to you, especially Bucky and Natasha. 
When you introduced yourself to them with your cheeks flushed, hands nervously fidgeting behind your back, and your shy little voice, it made Natasha want to wrap her arms around you and protect you from the world.  
But, on the other hand, seeing your long thick thighs on display, juicy ass just barely covered by the shorts you wore, and your tank top that hugged your curves just right made her’s and Bucky’s mouths water. That body paired with your shy, innocent demeanor made them want to swallow you whole. 
They had been happy just the two of them, rekindling their love once they both were free. They never thought about having someone else in their relationship, never wanted anyone else, until you.  
One knowing look and desire fill conversation later they knew they had to have you. They just had to be careful so they wouldn’t scare you away, and make sure Tony didn’t find out and do something crazy. He was very protective of you. 
So, the next couple of years were spent with heated looks, lingering touches, and subtle hints thrown at you that you never seem to catch. They were tired of this game of chase, frustrated and on a level of horny so high that they couldn’t fuck down no matter how hard they tried. Bucky was this close to fucking up against the closest wall, Natasha not far behind. But they’d soon get what they longed for.  
You studied your reflection in the mirror again. The thin strapped, black dress that stopped mid-thigh, and had a slit going up your left thigh, hugged your body perfectly. You wouldn’t normally wear something so revealing but Wanda said this dress was perfect.  
She’d said you’d definitely be getting fucked tonight. She may or may not have read Bucky and Natasha’s minds and knew this dress would make them lose it.  
Tonight was Sam’s birthday party, although his birthday wasn’t for two more days, he’d be in Louisiana visiting his sister so Steve wanted to throw him a party before he left.  
Making sure your curls were perfect, you sprayed on some perfume and put some black heels on and headed down to the floor the party was being held at. 
Natasha and Bucky were sat at the bar area, formulating a plan on how to make you theirs. Natasha wore an off the shoulder, floor length, blood red dress that fit her just right, with matching lipstick and heels.  
Bucky had a tailor-made, black suit that showed his defined muscles. His face clean-shaven, displaying his sharp jaw and his hair tied back in that low, sexy bun he’s always sporting.  
Natasha was the first to see you, choking on her drink as she takes you in, causing Bucky to follow her line of sight. His cock rock hard instantly. She bit her lip and one shared glance; they knew tonight was the night and they had just the plan to do it. 
You lock eyes with Natasha and she beckons you over.  
“Look at you, firefly,” she grins and you blush.  
Bucky whistles and looks you up and down. “You’d give poor old Steve a heart attack in that dress, doll. You look amazing.”  
“You think so?” You shyly ask. 
“Definitely,” Natasha adds.  
You begrudgingly do a shot with them after the persisted you do at least one to help loosen you up, even though they knew you didn’t like alcohol. They didn’t leave your side the rest of the night, not that you minded, you loved being the center of their attention. They were waiting for the perfect moment to sneak you away, that moment came after the cake and presents, everyone having gone back to drinking and dancing.  
Natasha loops her arm with yours. “So, firefly,” she smirks. “Me and Bucky were thinking of changing up our room, think you could help us?” There a devious sparkle in her eyes that you miss. 
Your eyes light up. “Yes!” You smile.  
They lead you away from the party and up to their room. Once inside Bucky locks the door. You look around as Natasha comes up behind you and puts her hands on your waist. She runs her nose up the side of your neck, taking in the scent of your perfume. You freeze. 
“Nat?” You ask on a shaky whisper.  
“Yes, firefly?” She nibbles on your ear, causing you to shudder. 
Bucky stands in front of you and cups your face, tilting your head to make you look at him. His lips inches from yours. Your follow-up question gets stuck in your throat. 
“Do you know,” Bucky starts, leaning forward to nudge his nose with yours. 
“How long we’ve been waiting for you?” Natasha finishes, kissing your shoulder. 
“What?” You ask through the already forming fog in your brain. 
“We want you, firefly. Will you let us have you?” She slides her hands up to just under your boobs, waiting for your consent. You whimper and nod. 
“Words doll,” Bucky says. 
“Yes,” you whisper breathlessly.  
Bucky smashes his lips to yours as Natasha cups your boobs, squeezing them. You moan and grab Bucky’s forearms.  
He steps back and takes his suit jacket off, instructing Nat to take your dress off. She slowly unzips the dress and pushes the straps off your shoulders. It gets bunched around your middle, you blush, insecurities sneaking up on you. She just pushes it the rest of the way down. 
Your hands itch to cover yourself but stop when Bucky lets out a deep groan. He whispers a fuck and reaches down to squeeze his throbbing cock. You let out a whine. 
“Get on the bed and spread those gorgeous thighs, doll,” he rasps. His eyes black with lust. Your bra and panties come off and you get on the bed, laying on your back and shyly spreading your thighs.  
Natasha moans. “Look at her Buck.” He hums and pushes the straps of her dress off her shoulder, revealing she had nothing on underneath. He groans and kisses her; she unbuttons his shirt. You whine, more slick coming out and coating your folds. They break apart and grin. 
While Bucky finishes taking his clothes off, Natasha comes beside you and starts to play with your breasts, pinching and tugging your nipples causing you to moan. Bucky, now naked, kneels between your legs, taking in the sight of your soaked pussy.  
“Already so wet and we’ve hardly touched you babydoll,” he taunts. You whine, the feeling of his hot breath causing you to shudder. 
“Don’t tease her Buck,” Natasha says as she takes one of your nipples into her mouth.  
She nips lightly at the bud as Bucky presses his tongue to your clit, you let out a high-pitched moan and grip his hair. As she teases your nipples, Bucky eats you out like a starved man, mumbling out how good you taste in between slurps and gasps of breath. 
Bucky can’t handle it anymore and stands up before you can cum. “I gotta be in you, doll, fuck.” He gets in between your legs and lines his leaking tip up with your entrance.  
He slowly slides in and your eyes roll back. He gives you a second once he bottoms out, letting you adjust. Natasha rubs your clit as he starts to move. 
“How does she feel?” She asks 
“S’fucking good, so tight, shit” He groans and pounds into you. 
Natasha oscillates between making out with you and sucking you breasts and leaving hickies. She keeps rubbing your clit. You grip the sheets, panting and moaning. Bucky angles his thrusts just right and you scream as he hits that spot inside of you that causes you to see stars. 
“I-I’m go-....gonna...” You can’t even finish your sentence. 
He speeds up his thrusts, “Cum, doll, soak my cock.” 
Your eyes roll back and your back arches as you squirt, soaking his balls, thighs, and the bed. His hips stutter as he cums unexpectedly, he rides out both of your highs, his cock not softening at all.  
Natasha motions for him to pull, when he does, she immediately gets between your legs and eats you out, moaning at the taste of your slick and Bucky’s cum. He groans and starts to fuck her. 
This goes on for hours, both of them pull orgasms out of you. By the end of it, you lay cuddle between them, exhausted. They say that they want you to be a part of their relationship, you agree, feeling like you’re dreaming. The two people you’ve had the biggest crush on actually wanted you to be with them, you couldn’t have been happier. 
When Tony finds out he whacks both Natasha and Bucky in the back of the head with a rolled-up newspaper. He also now carries a spray bottle with him for when y’all get a little too handsy.  
All in all you’re living your dream and you couldn’t be happier.
149 notes · View notes
ihavethedreamies · 1 day
Text
Versace Royal | Hyunjin
Hwang Hyunjin - Stray Kids
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~4.3k
Pairing: Idol! Hyunjin x Idol! Older! AFAB! Reader
Genre: Request, Idolverse, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! Receiving), Shower Sex, Unprotected Sex (Not Recommended)
Summary: Hyunjin and you are both international ambassadors for Versace and the rumors are put to rest when you announce you are both officially dating at a Versace event.
Author's Note: Got a request for this! I'm so happy that one of you liked my stuff enough to want me to write something for you!
Also I am working on the historical AU still, but I'm low-key working for my uncle doing something so...
P.S. I would have had this done and up earlier today, but I had to watch the Chiefs game even though I only watch for Pacheco (#10) and he got a broken leg.
Also, Winwin is in this! Just briefly, I like to wiggle him in where I can.
I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Shit." You grumbled to yourself, looking in the mirror and scrubbing over your tooth with your finger to get the lipstick stain off.
"Here." Your stylist shuffled over to fix the error and as you held still for her, your eyes flitting over to Hyunjin. He was sitting in an armchair of the dressing room you two were assigned, scribbling on his tablet. He didn't have the jacket of his outfit on yet, sitting in just his tank top. Your eyes couldn't help but trace over his exposed arms, then back up to the slight furrow of his brow, the frown marring his beautiful face. Your stylist pulled back and she helped you get the dress you were to wear over the full-piece shapewear you had on.
"You don't need this you know." Your stylist whispered and you shrugged.
"I just wear it like a slip, I can't risk someone else trying to shoot up my skirt again." You looked at yourself in the mirror, not really loving your hair. It was pulled back into a tight low ponytail, and it made your facial features look too harsh.
"Sorry." The other woman whispered as she touched up your makeup. Your eyes flitted to Hyunjin again, his hair slicked back in a similar manner, but it looked good on him.
"Uh." His voice brought your attention back to him from your reflection in the mirror, a ding coming from his tablet.
"What?" You didn't bother hiding the apprehension in his voice.
"People already know we're here together." He sighed and you rolled your eyes so hard you worried you messed up your mascara.
"Not too surprising, we were on the same plane." You shook your head and when it was determined you were ready, the stylist moved on to Hyunjin.
"I don't wanna~" He whined, begrudgingly getting up from the armchair to sit at the vanity. As he shuffled toward you, you smiled at his bored look.
"Hold on." He paused you and so you halted, and he brushed something off the shoulders of your dress, then ran his hand over your smoothed hair.
"Careful, someone might think we're dating." You tried to hide your smile.
"We are dating." His deadpan tone nearly made you ruin your lipstick, but you halted your mouth before you stuck your tongue out like you had planned. Taking his place in the armchair, you couldn't help but glance at his still-on tablet. The article was open, and the title made you sigh.
"The Prince and Princess of Versace?" It seemed the name had left the K-Fanbase and had spread to even the international fashion press. It made you two seem more like brother and sister if you were the 'heirs' of Versace though. The article was topped with a picture of both of you with Donatella, but you two weren't in matching clothes in that one like you would be that day. Clicking your tongue, you grabbed the device and were about to look and see if there were any more articles, but you noticed his drawing app open. Looking up at him glaring at himself in the mirror, setting his intense expression for the night, you opened it, the image making you coo.
"You're drawing me?" You laughed at the glare he sent to you then.
"I always draw you." Hyunjin huffed and you giggled, wiggling in your chair and continuing to look at the news. Finding another article along the same lines, you drifted down to the comments, and your heart fell. Not only were there a bunch of his fans bashing you for what seemed like just standing next to him, even your fans were being mean too.
'He doesn't deserve her. She should date an actor.'
'He's the tallest in SKZ, but she still doesn't have to wear heels with him.'
'There's tons of other celebs and models there she could get, why go for another idol? Take some steps up girl.'
"I'm suing." You sneered.
"Stop reading comments." Your boyfriend scolded and you sniffed but relented.
"Don't wrinkle that, please, (Y/N)." The stylist then scolded you as well and you adjusted your posture. A knock on the door prompted a grunt from the man and a hum from you and his manager poked his head in the room.
"Donatella wants a photoshoot before the event." He announced and you sighed. Made sense. Your stylist hurried up her task and you helped her adjust and tweak Hyunjin's outfit once he got it on.
"Careful, people might think you like me or something." He teased you and you pinched him through the fabric of his tank top, and he yelped, making you giggle.
"Well, maybe I do…"
"Don't kiss him!" The stylist snapped and you halted. Yeah, red on his mouth would be a little too obvious, and she would have to fix both of yours make up as well.
"If some influencer tries to flirt with you, I'm going to scream." He grumbled, face still close to yours, also a bit cranky he couldn't kiss you.
"Same. But we just pretend I don't know English." You shrug playfully.
"You spoke with Donatella in English in the last video, good luck with that." You swore under your breath, finally letting go of his jacket that's gold and black fabric matched your dress's. Moving to go around him and start to leave the dressing room, he grabbed your wrists, pulling you back to him.
"No, no, come here one sec." He hauled you even closer, pressing you to him, nose barely grazing yours. His eyes met yours and the sharp look made you swallow hard, and the corner of his mouth twitched before he controlled it.
"Don't fucking wrinkle it!" The stylist more or less pulled him away from you and ran her hands over both of your garments to make sure they were fine.
"Go, and don't stop in a closet on the way!" She shoved you both out to be led away by your managers.
~~~
"Can you put and rest your arm on her shoulder, like with your elbow bent?" The shoot director motioned and Hyunjin followed suit, his forearm laying on your shoulder.
"Good!" You were glad that modeling shoots didn't want you to smile like all the pictures your mother took when you went home for Chuseok. Having him lean a bit on you made it harder to balance your own pose, legs crossed, all weight laying on one leg. You were in short heels, but they were still thin, and it made it harder to stay steady. You were glad the company never wanted your group to dance in heels, but your group had a more badass concept most times and so you got to wear boots or even sneakers.
"Careful." Hyunjin whispered in your ear, feeling your body shake a bit and he relaxed the pressure he was putting on you. You both followed the prompts of the director while the photographer continued shooting.
"What if we go with the prince and princess idea?" Your eyes flitted to Donatella, urging her with your gaze to shut up. She smiled playfully and your nose twitched.
"Like?"
"Get that chair, no, the fancy one!" The designer herself motioned and some staff started to move in a black velvet chair, and she came onto the set. She sat in the chair and then the director got the hint. You both were directed to stand behind and to the side of the chair, your hands on the back, postures straight. Just like the heirs to a queen.
"You saw that article?" You asked her when the shoot was done, and she smiled.
"Let's get going to the event now, I can be late but you two can't." She left to attend to who knows what and you gave Hyunjin a look and he huffed a laugh.
"(Y/N), Hyunjin." Your manager waved you over, his was on the phone.
"What?" He had spoken in a hushed tone, so you did too.
"The company wants you to announce your relationship tonight. They want to get ahead of the rumors."
"Tonight?" You hissed. There was no time to prepare, and the comments were already tearing both of you to shreds. The older man shrugged and finally Hyunjin's manager got off the phone.
"We're going to work with a few reporters that are here for Korean magazines, and they'll do a more or less scripted interview quick and that'll be it." The other manager informed, and you nodded, feeling a bit less nervous. You looked at your boyfriend then and he didn't look fazed.
"What?" You were still whispering.
"Maybe then guys will leave you be?" He was obviously still upset about the influencer that was flirting with you at the last event.
"Are you intimidated by a TikTok model?"
"No, but that doesn't mean I don't like them trying to get you back to their hotel room."  He was talking a little louder than you really wished for him to be, but he was using Korean so…
"You're getting me back to your hotel room, though?" You sent him a coy look and he rolled his eyes.
"No, we're going separate, then using the little door that’s in between them." He wiggled his finger back and forth and you exhaled a laugh.
"Let's just go to the red carpet…shoot…place." What did you call a red carpet than had no carpet, let alone a red one?
~~~
You waited to go up to get your photo taken at the Versace logo wall they had set up outside the runway hall, taking the chance to look around at who else was there. You recognized only a few people, and your heart sank a little not seeing a very familiar face.
"I thought Sicheng said he's done Versace shows before…" You clicked your tongue crankily, a group of three was better than just you two. Especially since Winwin was already a friend.
"(Y/N)." Hyunjin's voice caught your attention, and you strode forward to join him at the logo. The official and press photographers took a few pics and then Hyunjin moved on so you could do the solo shots.
"They could've put her in something shorter." You heard a voice murmur from the next spot in line and you shot a side glance over to look. Some guys with too chiseled of features and too greasy hair. Just pretend you don't know English. Just because your last interview with the designer herself was in English didn't mean everyone had seen it. They were probably famous or something, but they weren't even in Versace, so they were just guests or something. After the photographers thanked you, you nodded a bow and moved on, trying not to dash over to your boyfriend.
"Stupid dudebros." You huffed, adjusting your ponytail back behind you instead of over your shoulder.
"How old are you, noona?" Hyunjin teased and you shot him a look that made him laugh.
"I'm only a few years older, shut up." You told him not to call you that after you started dating since the other boys but Chan and Minho did as well.
"What'd they say?"
"Thought my dress could be shorter."
"Surprised they weren't wanting to see your tits."
"What tits?" You huffed, starting to lead him toward the actual runway hall and he scoffed.
"Just cuz' you're not stacked like Jihyo-noona doesn't mean you have no boobs." He sniffed and you shook your head, finding your designated seats at the side of the runway and sitting down. You adjusted your dress and set the bag they gave you along with it in your lap, crossing your ankles to the side. Every time you sat like that you thought of the Princess Diaries movie.
"You would know."
"I would know."
"Do you have any idea what the reporters will ask?" You moved on, still speaking quietly despite using a language most people likely did not know.
"No." He shot you a soft glance, "don't worry, we'll handle it together."
Through the fashion show, you tried to look genuinely interested, brain still looping on the press interview later.
"Stop looping." Hyunjin bumped you with his elbow as there was a gap between models. You took a deep breath and then let it out, genuinely noting the fabric of the purple dress the next model had on.
~~~
"You're shaking." Hyunjin wanted to just wrap his arm around you, or hug you, he could tell you were getting anxious. Normally press interviews were fine, but you were normally with your group, and you weren't the leader, just the eldest.
"I know." You desperately wanted to bite your thumbnail, that at least eased the strain on your teeth of your clenched jaw. But you had fake nails on and couldn't ruin them. You two were waiting for the specified reporters to show up and you wanted to bury and hide in his chest but couldn't. Even after the announcement you couldn't, it was too brazen of an act. Like it was muscle memory, when the press showed up, your shaking stopped, and you adopted a more even facial expression.
"(Y/N), how do you feel about being called the Versace Princess?" First question. Of course. Your manager got a look, and he shrunk a bit and you put on a practiced smile.
"I can't complain being called a Princess." Good.
"Hyunjin?" Same thing.
"Not the first time I've been called a prince."
"You two are matching today, did you know you would be?" The reporter was still looking at him.
"Yes, but I think five other people have the same pattern on." He joked.
"(Y/N), what was your favorite piece in the show?" A new reporter. You both answered a few more fashion-focused questions for the fashion magazine reporters, then you finally got the first nail-biter.
"There have been rumors going around for a while that you two are dating. Is there any merit?" You looked at your manager and he nodded.
"Well…maybe." You smiled softly, looking down and Hyunjin stepped a bit closer.
"We thought coming with matching outfits made that a bit obvious." Your boyfriend added and the flashes from the camera's increased and you felt more eyes than before going to you.
"So, you two are dating?" Deep breaths.
"Yes." The reporters started murmuring and you were led to believe they knew beforehand, but they clearly didn't. Some were already typing on their phones, and you swallowed hard.
"Okay, if there are any more questions, they can be referred to JYP Entertainment." Your managers stepped in and the motioned for you two to sneak off and head toward the after party that was in the next building over.
~~~
"Oh, thank you." You gratefully took the glass of champagne from the waiter that immediately came over as you both entered the building for the after party. Hyunjin took one as well and you took a sip, then grimaced at the taste.
"You've never liked wine." Hyunjin huffed a laugh, and you sneered at him, then downed the rest. You set the empty glass on another waiter as he passed and headed straight for the food.
"These portions are too small." You grumbled, not even knowing what most of the little appetizers were.
"Don't eat that one." Hyunjin stopped you, mouth full of something, before you grabbed what looked like a little sandwich.
"Why?"
"It's not good." He shook his head, and you ended up just grabbing what you hoped was a cookie. Tasted like one anyway.
"There you two are!" Donatella's voice caught both of your attention, and you felt immediately calmer with her there.
"So, it’s official? Everyone knows now?"
"You knew we were dating before?" Hyunjin asked her and she gave him a bored look.
"I just wish we didn't have to be the ones to announce it." You shook your head, looking around nervously.
"Keep an eye on her, some of the guests have been saying some…unsavory things." The designer warned and you shook your head as she moved on to mingle more. At the last event there was a bunch of horny internet celebrities, and it seemed they were present that  day as well.
"Hyunjin!" Your boyfriend's manager called to the man and waved for him to come over.
"(Y/N), stay there, it would be suspicious if you both went missing." He told you and you froze in place. Watching them leave with wide eyes, you huddled closer to the food table, hoping to appear invisible.
"So, you're a K-pop girl or something right?" You flinched, turning to look at who approached. You couldn't place his accent, and you had no idea who he was to go off of that.
"Uh, yes. You are…?" You really wanted a drink but there was only champagne and wine. He told you his name and when no recognition passed over your face, he scoffed slightly but readopted his ‘charming’ expression.
"So, you know Blackpink?" You tried not to roll your eyes, watching him pick something to eat. His suit looked too small for him, and he had an arrogant aura. He crooked an eyebrow with a smolder, and you forced a smile.
"Um, no. I don't."
"BTS though right?"
"Um, no."
"Isn't your friend in BTS?" He motioned vaguely to the side and your brow twitched in annoyance.
"No, he's in the group Stray Kids."
"They were at Coachella." He pointed to you like he figured it out, smirking around his sip of champagne.
"No. That was ATEEZ." You hated dealing with people like him and it seemed he was mixing his ignorance with arrogance.
"Were they the ones that had Ryan Reynolds in their music video?"
"Yes." You smiled a bit more; actually glad he figured it out.
"What is your group called?" You begrudgingly told him.
"So, you like sing and dance and stuff."
"Well, um, yes." You looked around you, hoping and praying that anyone would come, but mostly Hyunjin or your manager.
"You the leader?"
"No, the eldest."
"How old are you?" He looked you up and down and you winced, feeling nauseated. You felt a familiar presence behind you, and you relaxed some feeling them. He didn't say anything, and you turned, slightly surprised to see Sicheng and not Hyunjin.
"I didn't know you were here?" You asked in Korean then and he was staring the guy down. For being so cute and pretty he was good at looking mad.
"We didn't make the runway." He told you and the other man huffed.
"This your boyfriend then?" He looked at Winwin patronizingly. You rolled your eyes.
"No, I am." Both you and Sicheng relaxed, and the annoying man turned, taking a step away when Hyunjin shoved past him.
"Thanks, hyung." He whispered to Sicheng who nodded and took a few steps away to grab something to eat.
"Is Ningning here?" You turned to him then, letting Hyunjin block you from the jerk.
"No, sorry. Who is that?" He nodded at the offender, wrinkling his nose at the food options. You told him and he shook his head, having no idea either.
"If you ever want to know what it feels like to really be treated like a woman, Miss (Y/N), I'm always available." He called around Hyunjin and you hated hearing your name come from him.
"Fuck off." You hardly ever heard your boyfriend sound that angry; he must have learned the tone from Minho.
"Excuse me!" A girl's voice drew everyone's attention and a few younger women who were probably beauty influencers shuffled up with pads of paper.
"Can we get you three's autographs?" You were grateful for the distraction and you each took turns signing for the three girls. The jerky man tried to take the pen next from Hyunjin and one of the fans shot him a look.
"Who are you?" This put a hard blow on his ego, and you held back a laugh, thanking the girls as they trotted away.
"He left." Hyunjin sighed, stepping closer to you, pressing his chest to your shoulder.
"You okay?"
"Yes. Thank you, oppa." You smiled at Winwin, and he smiled back.
For the rest of the after party you were able to avoid any more assholes, they seemed to not want to come over with both of the K-pop boys with you.
"I'm so fucking tired." You groaned, tapping your keycard against the lock of your hotel room and your boyfriend hummed in agreement, entering his own room. The door between the rooms was already open and he ended up just coming to your side and flopping on the bed.
"You'll wrinkle it." You warned, and he whined, getting off the bed  and immediately stripping down to his underwear.
"Jinnie." You huffed in amusement, picking up the garments and when you stood back up from crouching, he was already wiggled under the blankets. He hadn't even untucked them from under the mattress. You shook your head, hanging up his clothes in the garment bag, then removing your own piece and adding it.
"I'm showering." You told him and he didn't respond.
"I'm leaving the door unlocked!" You called and you could hear him wrestling to get out from the comforter as you laughed. You had just let your shapewear fall before he shoved the door open and your back hit the sink counter when he pinned you to it. His lips quickly swallowed yours, no longer needing to care about the transfer of lipstick. You whined, fingers cascading over the skin of his base torso, tongue trying to keep up with his. When he pulled away you took the chance to spin him around and pin him to the counter, laying kisses over his neck and chest, leaving red lip marks all over his skin.
"Wait, (Y/N), you don't-" He sighed as you sank to your knees, leaving fainter marks on his tummy. His cock was half-hard, and you palmed over it through his boxer briefs, and he grunted. You kissed over the fabric making him nearly whimper, and you whined yourself when you pulled his undergarment down, his fully hard cock springing out. You hummed, licking your lips, then eagerly sucked the tip into your mouth.
"Shit." Sweat had already broken on his forehead, and he leaned further back to steady himself, the cold marble of the sink made him shiver. When the tip of his dick hit the back of your throat, you used your hands to hold the other half of his cock, bobbing your head. Hyunjin reached out, managing to find the shower knob and turn the water on, getting it warm. His hand petted over your hair, then tightened, pulling you back. The sting at your scalp made you shudder in delight, your dazed eyes meeting his sharp ones.
"Get in, face the wall." He pulled you up and you were glad the shower was a walk-in. You sighed as the hot water met your tense shoulders, but you squeaked when he joined, pressing his chest to your back. Your breasts pressed to the still cold wall of the shower, and you squeaked as his fingers met your cunt.
"What got you so wet?" Hyunjin hummed in your ear, and you swallowed, trying to think of how to get words out.
"W-when you told that guy to fuck off."
"So long ago?" He chuckled, removing his fingers too soon, making you huff. Before you could even think of complaining or pleading for him, he had bucked his hips, burying his fat cock in one thrust all the way. Your breath left your lungs, the burning sting sending shocks of pleasure up your spine and down your legs. There was almost no room between you two as he pressed even closer, arms wrapping around your middle and holding your hip. He let you take a few breaths to adjust, kissing your neck, the heat of the water and his cock inside you set your blood on fire. One of hands moved to cup your breast, kneading the flesh and you whimpered.
“These are perfect.” He pinched your nipple and you squeaked, then whimpered.
"M-move." You were nearly up on your tip toes, body wound so tight.
"Oh, fuck!" You gasped as Hyunjin began fucking you in earnest, not building, battering his cock deep inside you. Your cunt spasmed as you gasped for air, fingers not able to find anything to hold onto on the slick wall, cheek pressed to the cold tile.
"You're just perfect, (Y/N). Your pussy was made for me, no one else can have it." His hand splayed over your lower tummy, the sensitive skin there twitching under his palm.
"I don't want anyone else to anyway." You managed to get out, his cock kissing your cervix with each roll of his hips.
"Cum for me (Y/N), yeah?" He hummed as he felt the familiar clenching of your gummy walls, his fingers rolling over your clit, sending you over the edge. Hyunjin filled you as deep as he could, grinding into you to help you ride your high, trying to fight his own.
"Fuck, please Hyunjin!" You whimpered, your orgasm seeming to last for hours.
"Well," he chuckled breathily, "if you insist." He bucked his hips a few more times and you both sighed as his hot cum painted your core white. Panting, you couldn't tell whether his skin was slick from the water or his sweat, but either way you both needed to actually shower.
~
"You know, I don't mind being the Prince and Princess of Versace." He told you softly as you laid in bed together, bundled up in your pajamas. Round two and probably three would occur otherwise and you both needed to be up early for your flight.
"No?"
"It's more like Prince William and Princess Kate than us being siblings."
"We're not married, Hyunjin." You huffed and he nodded sleepily.
"For now."
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muiitoloko · 3 days
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I looooved the daddy severus fanfic aaaaghhhh ❤️ but now can we have what he needed to do to have the baby lol
Breeding kink severus PLEASE!!! Xx
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Title: A Second Chance
Summary: Surviving the war was only the beginning for Severus Snape. With your love, he learns to embrace life, finding comfort in the thought of a future that includes a family of his own.
Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader
Warnings: Smut
Author's Notes: I'm so glad you loved the Daddy Severus fanfic! ❤️ And I couldn't resist your request, so I went ahead with the breeding kink idea—but decided to keep it light and wrote a completely new one-shot instead. Don't worry, it's more on the sweet side, nothing too kinky 😅. Hope you enjoy this one just as much! xx
Also read on Ao3
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Severus Snape never imagined he would survive the war, let alone find himself married years after the defeat of Lord Voldemort. In truth, he hadn't even expected to live past the moment Nagini's fangs had torn into his throat. The pain had been excruciating, but it was fleeting—quickly overtaken by the cold, creeping numbness of death. He had welcomed it, that final escape from a life filled with darkness and deceit. Everything had gone black, and he thought that was the end.
But death had not come for Severus Snape that day. Instead, he had awoken to the sterile smell of potions and the clinical brightness of the Hogwarts infirmary, with Madam Pomfrey's stern face hovering above him, muttering incantations and administering salves to his ravaged neck. She had told him that the war was over, that Voldemort was defeated, and in those first few moments of lucidity, Snape had wanted nothing more than to slip back into unconsciousness. He had nothing left to live for, after all. But fate, as it often did, had other plans.
Snape had been in a coma for two long years—two years during which the wizarding world had moved on without him, during which he had been declared a hero by none other than Harry Potter, the boy he had once loathed. Potter, in his infinite idiocy, had come forward with memories—his memories—evidence that Snape had been working as a double agent, risking everything to protect the son of the woman he had loved more than life itself. It was Potter’s testimony that had spared Snape from Azkaban, and it was Potter who had ensured that he was awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class, and hailed as a hero in the aftermath of the war.
Snape thought bitterly of that fool of a boy now, sitting in the grand sitting room of one of the Prince family’s old mansions. The house had been passed down to him as the last living heir of the Prince family, a lineage he had long since stopped caring about. His mother’s bloodline had never brought him anything but misery, and yet here he was, a reluctant beneficiary of the wealth and status he had once despised. He rubbed the large scar on his neck, the mark left by Nagini’s fangs a constant reminder of how close he had come to death. It barely allowed him to speak without pain, a daily torment that was only mitigated by the potions and treatments he had to endure.
And that was where you came in.
You had been sent by St. Mungo’s on behalf of the Ministry of Magic, assigned to take care of Snape’s throat, which often swelled and caused him intense pain at random times. The venom of Nagini had remained in his bloodstream, a sinister reminder of the Dark Lord’s most loyal servant. Snape hadn’t wanted you there. In those first few days, he had made every effort to drive you away, using every tactic at his disposal—scathing remarks, icy glares, and, when words failed him, the sheer force of his silent, menacing presence. But you hadn’t been intimidated. You had insisted on staying, refusing to leave despite his best efforts to scare you off. You were patient, determined, and unfailingly kind—qualities that Snape found both infuriating and, inexplicably, disarming.
He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things began to change between the two of you. Perhaps it was the day he had tried to intimidate you with a particularly venomous glare, only to find that you met his gaze with calm resolve, refusing to back down. He had pressed you against the wall in a fit of frustration, intending to finally break through that maddening composure, but instead, he had found himself kissing you—fiercely, desperately, as if you were the only thing tethering him to this world. That kiss had quickly turned into something more—something that left you both breathless and shaken, your bodies entwined in a feverish, almost primal need.
Months had passed since that first heated encounter, and somehow, through a series of events that still seemed surreal to him, Snape had found himself married to you. He looked down at the simple, yet elegant ring on his finger, a symbol of a life he had never imagined for himself. The ring was one he had chosen himself, purchased with the money he had saved over the years as a professor—years of putting up with those insufferable, brainless children. The irony of it all was not lost on him. Severus Snape, the cold, unyielding Potions Master, now had a wife, a home, and a life that was, in many ways, far more normal than he had ever thought possible.
He had thought he would hate it—the domesticity, the mundanity of it all. But as he sat in the quiet of the old manor, the fire crackling softly in the hearth, he realized that he didn’t hate it. Not at all. In fact, he found a strange sort of peace in it—a peace he hadn’t known in decades, if ever. It was a peace that came from knowing that, despite everything, he had somehow found a place in this world—a place with you.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, and he looked up to see you entering the room, a soft smile on your face as you made your way over to him. You were dressed simply, yet elegantly, your presence filling the room with a warmth that he still wasn’t quite used to, but which he had come to cherish nonetheless.
“Severus,” you greeted him, your voice soft and soothing as you approached. “How are you feeling?”
He shrugged slightly, the familiar discomfort in his throat a dull throb that he had long since learned to ignore. “As well as can be expected,” he replied, his voice low and rough, a result of the lingering effects of the venom.
You nodded, your expression one of understanding and quiet concern as you reached out to gently touch his hand, your fingers brushing against the cool metal of his wedding ring. “I’m glad,” you said softly, your eyes meeting his with a warmth that made his chest tighten. “You know, you don’t have to bear this burden alone. I’m here, Severus. I’ll always be here.”
He looked at you for a long moment, the weight of your words sinking in, filling the empty spaces in his heart that he had long thought would remain void. He had spent so many years alone, so many years building walls around himself to keep others out, that it still felt strange—unnatural, even—to have someone who cared about him, who wanted to share in his burdens.
But you were here, in his life, in his home, and he had somehow, against all odds, found himself falling for you in a way he hadn’t believed was possible. You had been a light in the darkness, a beacon that had guided him back to the land of the living when all he had wanted was to fade into oblivion.
“I know,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion as he looked down at your hand in his, the warmth of your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else could. “And I’m… grateful.”
You smiled at that, a soft, genuine smile that lit up your entire face, and for a moment, Snape felt something stir within him—something that had been dormant for far too long. It was a warmth, a flicker of hope, of love, that he had thought he would never feel again.
Without another word, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with all the affection and tenderness that you had brought into his life. Snape closed his eyes, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation, to savor the moment, the connection between you.
When you finally pulled back, you looked at him with a quiet intensity, your eyes searching his as if you were trying to understand the depth of what he was feeling. And in that moment, Snape realized that you did understand—that you knew him better than anyone ever had, perhaps even better than he knew himself.
“I love you, Sev,” you whispered, your voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “I always will.”
But Severus Snape had never been one for grand declarations, especially when it came to matters of the heart. The words I love you felt foreign on his tongue, weighed down by the years of pain and loss that had shaped him into the man he was today. Instead, he preferred to convey his feelings through subtle gestures, through actions that spoke louder than words ever could.
And tonight, he intended to show you just how much you meant to him.
Without a word, Snape leaned in and captured your lips in a kiss, one that was slow and deliberate, full of a restrained passion that he had kept buried for far too long. His lips moved against yours with a careful intensity, as if he was savoring every moment, every sensation. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his long, slender fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer to him.
You responded eagerly, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated, more urgent. Snape’s other hand found its way to your waist, his grip firm but gentle as he guided you onto his lap, your dress rustling softly as you straddled him. The fabric of his dark robes brushed against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth that radiated from his body.
When he finally broke the kiss, his breathing was slightly uneven, his dark eyes filled with a hunger that you had rarely seen before. He looked at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat, his gaze piercing through you as if he was trying to convey all the things he couldn’t bring himself to say.
Without breaking eye contact, Snape’s hands moved to the hem of your dress, his fingers grazing the soft fabric as he slowly pushed it up, revealing the smooth skin of your thighs. He let out a low, almost inaudible groan as he felt the warmth of your body against his, the sight of you on his lap stirring something primal within him.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, his voice a hoarse whisper as he traced the outline of your hips with his hands, his touch possessive yet reverent. It wasn’t quite I love you, but it carried the same weight, the same depth of emotion. It was his way of claiming you, of letting you know that you belonged to him in every sense of the word.
You shivered at his touch, your own hands moving to his shoulders, your fingers brushing against the cool, smooth fabric of his robes. His grip on you tightened slightly as he pulled you even closer, pressing your body against his as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, a clear indication of just how much he wanted you.
“Severus…” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of anticipation and desire as you felt his lips ghosting over your throat, leaving a trail of soft, heated kisses in their wake.
Snape didn’t respond with words. Instead, he let his actions speak for him, his hands slipping beneath your dress, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine before moving lower, cupping your ass and giving it a possessive squeeze. His lips found their way back to yours, capturing them in another deep, fervent kiss as he shifted beneath you, positioning himself so that his cock was perfectly aligned with your entrance, the heat of your arousal palpable through the thin fabric of your underwear.
Snape’s gaze was intense, his dark eyes boring into yours as he uttered a single, hoarse word: “Bedroom.” The command was rough, almost strangled, a reminder of the ever-present pain that laced his throat. You could see the discomfort etched into the lines of his face, a sharp pang of concern shooting through you. Was he okay? Was the pain too much for him? But before you could voice your worries, Snape dismissed them with a hard, determined look. He wasn’t going to let anything interrupt this moment.
In a swift, fluid motion, he lifted you into his arms, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist as you clung to him. His strength surprised you, the lean muscles beneath his robes belying the quiet power he possessed. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you, straining through the fabric of his impeccably tailored trousers. The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, igniting a fire in your belly.
He moved with purpose, carrying you down the dimly lit hallway of the old manor, his long robes billowing around him like shadows. The silence between you was thick, charged with the unspoken desires that had been building between you for months. Snape’s grip on you was firm, possessive, his hands settling on the curve of your ass as he held you close. The tension in the air was palpable, the only sounds were the soft rustle of fabric and the faint creak of the floorboards beneath his boots.
When he finally reached the bedroom, Snape pushed the door open with a gentle nudge of his foot, striding inside without hesitation. The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the fire in the hearth casting flickering shadows on the walls. The bed—a grand, four-poster affair draped in rich, dark fabrics—stood at the center of the room, an inviting haven amidst the darkness.
Without breaking his stride, Snape crossed the room and laid you down on the bed, his movements careful but deliberate. The mattress dipped under your weight as you looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as you took in the sight of him. He stood at the edge of the bed, his tall, lean figure imposing and commanding, his dark robes making him look every bit the cold, enigmatic man you had first met. But now, there was something more in his eyes—a burning need, a primal desire that he could no longer suppress.
Snape’s hands moved to the clasp of his robes, his fingers deftly undoing it before he shrugged off the heavy fabric, letting it pool on the floor at his feet. He remained silent, his gaze never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, each movement slow and deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The pale, angular planes of his chest were revealed inch by inch, the faint scars and the dark trail of hair leading down to the waistband of his trousers only adding to his rugged appeal.
Your mouth went dry as you watched him, your pulse quickening with each piece of clothing he shed. By the time he reached the waistband of his trousers, you were practically trembling with anticipation, your body aching with the need to feel him against you.
Snape didn’t rush. Instead, he paused, his fingers lingering on the waistband of his trousers as he looked down at you, his gaze dark and hungry. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, roughened by both his desire and the ever-present pain in his throat.
“I’m going to fill you,” he rasped, the words sending a jolt of arousal straight to your core. His expression was one of pure, unbridled lust, his eyes locked on yours as he added, “I’m going to put a baby inside you.”
The raw, primal promise in his words left you breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as heat pooled between your thighs. You could feel the wetness gathering there, your body responding to his words in a way that was utterly instinctive. Snape’s eyes flickered with satisfaction as he noticed your reaction, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your ankle, pulling you toward the edge of the bed with a firm, steady grip. You let out a soft gasp as your back arched, your dress riding up higher, exposing more of your skin to his hungry gaze. Snape’s hand slid up your calf, his touch sending sparks of electricity coursing through you as he pushed your dress up, revealing the lacy fabric of your underwear.
“Take it off,” he ordered, his voice hoarse but commanding, a dark edge to his tone that sent a shiver down your spine.
You obeyed without hesitation, your hands trembling slightly as you reached down to slip the dress over your head. The fabric pooled on the floor beside the bed, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Snape’s gaze raked over your body, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, the word almost lost in the roughness of his voice. His hand moved to your hip, his fingers tracing the delicate lace of your underwear before slipping beneath the fabric. The feel of his hand against your bare skin sent a jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as he caressed you with slow, deliberate strokes.
You moaned softly as his fingers found your wetness, your body arching into his touch. Snape’s gaze was fixed on yours, his eyes burning with an intensity that made your heart race. He moved his fingers with a practiced precision, teasing you with light, feathering touches that left you gasping for more.
“Do you want this?” he asked, his voice a low, gravelly whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as you looked up at him. “Yes, Severus, please.”
Snape’s smirk widened at your desperate plea, his hand leaving your core to grip your thigh, spreading your legs wider. He moved between them, his trousers slipping down to reveal his throbbing erection, the sight of it making your mouth water with desire.
He positioned himself at your entrance, his tip brushing against your wet folds as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. The sensation was electric, his lips moving against yours with a fierce, possessive hunger that left you dizzy. You could feel the tension coiling within him, the barely restrained need that pulsed through every inch of his body.
With a low growl, Snape pushed inside you, the thick length of him stretching you to the brink as he buried himself to the hilt. The sensation was overwhelming, your body trembling with the sheer intensity of it as he filled you completely. You could feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the raw power in the way he moved.
He set a slow, deliberate pace, his thrusts deep and measured, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. Snape’s gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on yours as he claimed you with every thrust, his hands gripping your hips with a possessive strength that left you breathless.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice rough and strained as he drove into you with a primal, almost savage need. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill…mine to breed.”
The words sent a shiver of pleasure through you, your body tightening around him as you let out a low, breathy moan. Snape’s hands gripped your hips harder, pulling you against him with each thrust, his pace quickening as he lost himself in the intensity of the moment.
You could feel the heat building within you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with every thrust. Snape’s name spilled from your lips in a breathless chant, your hands clutching at his shoulders as he drove you closer to the edge.
Snape's breath was ragged as he buried himself inside you, his trousers bunched up around his ankles, trapped by the boots he hadn't bothered to remove. It didn’t matter to him—nothing mattered now except the primal, driving need to fill you, to claim you in the most profound and intimate way. His dark, greasy hair clung to his forehead as he hovered above you, his pale, angular face set in a mask of intense concentration and desire.
His thrusts were deep, deliberate, each movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge, to ensure that every inch of him was felt within you. His normally stoic expression was marred only slightly by the flicker of pain that crossed his features when he dared to speak. The venomous scars on his neck, the constant reminder of his near brush with death, flared in protest with every word. But his voice—deep, roughened by the damage to his throat—slipped out when he could no longer contain the twisted fantasies that had consumed him.
“Mine,” he rasped, the single word filled with a possessiveness that made your breath hitch. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours as his hand gripped your hip tightly, holding you in place as he thrust into you again, harder this time, his need taking over. “You’re mine.”
The room was filled with the sound of your bodies colliding, the soft crackling of the fire the only other noise breaking the silence. His boots scraped against the floor as he shifted, driving into you with a relentless pace that left no room for doubt about his intentions. The weight of his body pinned you beneath him, the full force of his need pressing down on you.
His mind was filled with images—visions of you swollen with his child, your body heavy with the life he’d put inside you. The thought only spurred him on, fueling the dark hunger that had taken root within him. He could see it so clearly in his mind’s eye—a little girl, with your beauty and his cunning, a powerful witch who would carry on the legacy he had never thought he would pass on.
“You’ll give me a daughter,” he whispered hoarsely, the words a struggle, each one tinged with the pain it caused him to speak. But he had to say it, had to let you know the depths of his desire. His fingers dug into your skin as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You’ll carry her, and she’ll be perfect…just like you.”
The idea of breeding you, of seeing you swollen with his child, made him almost desperate in his movements. His pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with a brutal precision that left you gasping, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate to hold onto something as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
His breathing was labored, the strain of holding back the pain of speaking clear in the way his chest heaved, but he couldn’t stop now. His fingers moved to your clit, rubbing it in slow, teasing circles as he watched the effect it had on you, the way your body responded to him, the way you trembled beneath him. It was intoxicating, knowing that he had this power over you, that he could bring you to the brink of ecstasy with just a few well-placed touches.
“You’re going to be so beautiful,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “Round and full…carrying my child. My daughter.” His eyes were locked on yours, his gaze intense and unwavering as he thrust into you with a newfound urgency. “I’ll protect you…both of you…no one will ever hurt you.”
His words were rough, almost growled out between clenched teeth as the fire within him built to a fever pitch. He was close, so close, and he could feel you tightening around him, the telltale signs of your impending climax pushing him even further.
“Come for me,” he commanded, his voice low and commanding despite the strain. “I want to feel you…want to feel you fall apart around me.”
You were helpless to resist him, your body obeying his every command as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. Your climax hit you hard, your entire body tensing as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. Snape watched you, his gaze dark and intense, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you with a final, powerful thrust.
He could feel you convulsing around him, the tight, wet heat of your climax pulling him over the edge with you. He let out a low, guttural groan as he buried himself deep inside you, his release flooding you with a heat that seemed to burn through him.
For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing, the crackling of the fire, and the faint rustle of the sheets as Snape remained still above you, his chest rising and falling with the effort of catching his breath. His dark hair fell forward, obscuring his face as he leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips rough and warm against your skin.
“You’re mine,” he whispered one final time, his voice barely more than a breath. “And you’ll give me everything.”
His words hung in the air, a promise, a vow, as he slowly pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness almost jarring after the intensity of what had just passed between you. He laid down beside you, pulling you close to his chest, his long fingers tangling in your hair as he held you tightly, as if afraid to let you go.
In the silence that followed, Snape closed his eyes, the exhaustion finally catching up with him. But even as sleep began to take him, the thought of you carrying his child—his daughter—brought a small, almost imperceptible smile to his lips.
For the first time in years, Severus Snape allowed himself to hope for the future.
After the intensity of your shared moment had begun to settle, you found yourself recovering faster than Severus, whose chest still heaved as he fought to catch his breath. His dark eyes were closed, his pale face flushed with the remnants of passion, and his hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat. For a brief moment, you simply watched him, your heart swelling with a deep, unspoken affection. It was in these quiet moments, after the storm of his desire had passed, that you felt closest to him—that you saw the man behind the formidable exterior, vulnerable and human.
You moved gently, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to the scarred skin of his neck, your lips lingering just above the spot where Nagini's fangs had once pierced him. His eyes fluttered open at the sensation, and he looked down at you with a mixture of exhaustion and something that might have been tenderness, though he would never admit it aloud. The corners of his mouth twitched, as if he might protest your ministrations, but you silenced him with a look, your eyes conveying a wordless command.
“Don’t move,” you whispered, your voice soft yet firm as you began to reach down, your hands deftly unfastening the boots that had remained stubbornly on his feet. Snape tried to protest, his brows knitting together in irritation at the thought of you taking care of him, but the protest died on his lips when you fixed him with a pointed stare.
“Be quiet, Severus,” you instructed gently, though there was no mistaking the steel behind your words. “Let me do this.”
For once, he complied, his lips pressing into a thin line as he allowed you to help him. It was an act of trust, a rare thing for him, and you didn’t take it lightly. You removed his boots with care, followed by the trousers that had bunched awkwardly around his ankles, your fingers brushing against his skin as you worked. Despite the lingering heat between you, your touch was tender, almost reverent, as you undressed him, revealing the lean, angular planes of his body that were usually hidden beneath his dark, forbidding robes.
When you were finished, you summoned your wand with a simple flick of your wrist, casting a quiet cleaning charm over the two of you. The warm, tingling sensation of the magic swept away the remnants of your passion, leaving you both feeling refreshed, though the intimate connection between you remained unbroken.
You returned to his side, snuggling against him with a contented sigh, your head resting on his chest as you traced lazy patterns on his skin with your fingertips. Snape’s arm wrapped around you almost instinctively, his long fingers threading through your hair as he held you close. You could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your cheek, a soothing rhythm that calmed your own.
Lifting your head slightly, you rested your chin on his chest, your eyes meeting his with a mischievous glint. “At this rate, we’ll have a baby soon,” you remarked with a teasing smile, your tone light despite the weight of your words. “You’ve practically made love to me every day since I mentioned you’d be a great father.”
A faint flush colored Snape’s cheeks, though whether from embarrassment or something else, you couldn’t be sure. His gaze flickered with a mix of emotions—desire, uncertainty, and something deeper, something almost fragile. You knew that the idea of fatherhood had taken root in his mind, had sparked a longing that he hadn’t fully realized until you had voiced it aloud.
“It… seems to have stuck in my head,” he admitted gruffly, his voice low and rough as he avoided your gaze, his fingers still gently tangled in your hair. “The idea of… breeding you, of putting babies inside you… it… it turns me on to no end.”
There was a vulnerability in his admission, a raw honesty that was rare for him, and it made your heart ache with affection for the man who had always kept his true self hidden beneath layers of cold detachment. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing lightly over the scar on his neck as you leaned in to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
“I love you, Severus,” you whispered against his mouth, your voice filled with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt. “And I’d be honored to carry your child… our child.”
Snape’s breath hitched at your words, his dark eyes searching yours as if trying to find the truth in them. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft, almost reverent. “You… would?”
You nodded, your smile widening as you rested your forehead against his, your heart swelling with love for the man who had once believed himself incapable of it. “Of course. There’s no one else I’d want to share this with… no one else I’d trust with this.”
A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of Snape’s lips, and he let out a shaky breath as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a possessive tenderness that spoke volumes. For the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope—not just for the future, but for a future with you, a future where he could be the man, the husband, and the father he had never believed he could be.
As you lay together in the quiet of the old manor, the fire in the hearth casting a warm glow over your entwined bodies, you felt a sense of peace settle over you—a peace that came from knowing that, despite everything, you had found each other. And as Snape’s hand drifted to rest on your abdomen, his fingers splayed over your skin in a gesture that was both protective and tender, you knew that the love you shared would be enough to carry you through whatever came next.
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aviiarie · 2 days
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TO YOUR DEFENSE — chiori x fem!reader !
synopsis. chiori's partner is disrespected, and there isn't a chance she is letting it slide. warnings. n/a notes. established relationship. fem!reader. 1k words. i love her. so much. dedicated to @tragedy-of-commons who i brainrotted with about this idea <3
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Chiori is by no means a soft woman. Of course, she is perfectly capable of it when the right situation calls for it. And when the situation pertains to you—her cherished lover—she can deign to spare a measured amount of gentleness for your sake, but only a fool would mistake that for weakness.
Her newest client—a bald, bespectacled man interested in a new tailored suit and little else—seems to be exactly that: a fool.
“Apologize. Now.” Chiori’s tone is as sharp and cutting as the blade of her sword, making the man visibly shiver.
“I-I didn’t—Mademoiselle Chiori!” He stumbles over his words, losing any semblance of composure that he entered the store with. There was none of the bravado he held earlier, none of the confidence that had earned him her fury in the first place. “I didn’t mean anything by it, I-I simply—”
“Simply what?” Chiori’s eyes narrow, her face darkening further. “You simply thought it was appropriate to treat my partner with such blatant disrespect right in front of my eyes? You simply decided she was a sales assistant, and assumed that made it acceptable to order her around? You simply chose to tell her to make herself useful, and get you a tie in a different colour?”
The man flinches as his words are spat back at him, stuttering and stammering to try and pull together some sort of defence. It is a feeble attempt, and one that is quickly shut down.
“Quiet.” Chiori says harshly, cutting off the rest of his spluttering. “You will be quiet, and you will listen to what I have to say. Am I understood?”
The man nodded jerkily, looking like a skittish animal. The sight was rather pathetic, he was a foot taller than her and almost twice her size, but he still cowered at her piercing gaze.
“Not only have you falsely assumed that my partner—who has so graciously offered to assist me today, when you chose to delay your fitting appointment until an hour before closing—was a mere sales assistant, instead of politely requesting she retrieve an item for you, you decided to snap at her.”
Chiori took a pause, studying the man’s expression. It was almost laughable how much a grown man could so closely resemble a kicked puppy; perhaps she would have found humour in the sight, had she not been seething from head to toe with a burning anger.
“Treating my boutique like you can come and go as you please is one thing. But treating my lover like she is a worthless, lowly servant is something else. You have not just crossed the line; you have trampled all over it in those hideous dress shoes of yours. How dare you carry yourself with such arrogance, when you do not have even the common decency to speak to others with even a shred of politeness? You are not only an impolite, bad-tempered man, but a cowardly one at that.”
With every word, his head bows lower. It’s hard to tell if the action was out of genuine remorse, or shame that he was being scolded like a misbehaving schoolboy, but judging by his actions, Chiori could safely assume it was the latter.
“You—” Her eyes drift over to the side where you stood at the side of the store, watching the scene play out with an uncomfortable expression. If she were dealing with a disrespectful customer alone, she would not have hesitated to tear into him even further until he was a shivering mess of apologies at her feet, but the way you looked like you wanted to be anywhere else made her pause.
Even if she was defending you, your comfort was her priority. She bit back the insult on her lips, forcing her words to change their course.
“—You are going to apologize to my partner. Then, you are going to leave this store, and never return. You are not welcome at Chioriya Boutique anymore, and you will be blacklisted for life. I do not ever want to see your pathetic face again, but if I hear that you are treating any other sales worker the way you treated my partner today…”
Chiori didn’t finish her sentence, but the threat was clear. It hung in the air between them, causing the man to turn pale.
“O-Of course. I sincerely apologize, Mademoiselle—” The man turned to you, clasping his hands together. “I am truly sorry!”
“Go.” Chiori’s face twists in disgust. She steps away from the man, looking him up and down like he was nothing more than dirt beneath her shoe. “And do not come back.”
“Y-Yes, of course…” He bobs his head in a nod, face still struck with fear. He backs out of the boutique, as fast as his legs could take him.
Once he is out of sight, the anger melts off Chiori like snow falling from a roof. She turns to properly face you, her hand moving up to gently cup your cheek. “Apologies, that wasn’t something you should have had to witness. Are you alright, my love?”
You nod slowly, leaning into her hand. “I’m fine…”
She clicks her tongue. Her hand moves down your cheek, sliding all the way down your shoulder to rest on your waist. “Don’t lie to me. You look shaken.”
“I’m fine, really.” You insist, forcing a small smile. “Thank you… for defending my honour.”
Chiori’s face softens. She uses her hand at your waist to pull you closer until you were almost flush against her chest, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek. “It is no problem, darling. Some people just don’t seem to understand manners until they are beaten over the head with them.”
You laugh lightly, and the sound is like a melody to her ears. She hums, pulling herself out of the embrace long enough to flick the open sign to closed.
“Let’s go home, love.” Chiori pulls your hands to her lips, pressing a kiss to each of the knuckles. “Let’s forget all about what happened.”
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© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai
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Hey! Can I request a Regina x Reader fic where Regina sees you talking to another girl who, in Regina’s opinion, is a wannabe of Regina. She’s somewhat touchy with you so of course Regina gets mad at you. You’re confused on why Regina is mad at you at first, which makes her angrier. You go to Gretchen for help. Then when you do know what it’s about, you spend the rest of the day grovelling at Regina’s feet until she decides to forgive you. She doesn’t hesitate to tell you how much of a Regina-wannabe the girl you were talking to is, though.
Wannabe Blondie
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Summary: Regina's unwanted wannabe gets too close to you. Regina being Regina doesn't take to kindly to that. Thanks to Gretchen, you figure it out and grovel to your girl.
WARNINGS: suggestive, jealous Regina, aggressive Regina, fluff
Regina George was one in a million.
So she thought.
Until a girl named Ashley Cunningham showed up to North Shore.
Regina didn't have a problem with it. She was a changed woman who didn't get mad at petty things but things...changed.
Ashley started dressing like her, acting like her, duplicating her routines, etc..
Now, Regina loved her admirers but there was something...different about this. It was like she was trying to actively become Regina, which the original recipe herself was going to brush off.
Until the bitch decided to involve Y/N.
Y/N and Regina had been dating since Spring Fling their junior year, after everything happened. Regina had never been happier. Y/N treated her well, respected her, took care of her. The greenest flag a girl could be.
On Monday, Y/N had met Regina at the blonde's locker. Regina smiled as the girl approached, pecking her lips. "Hi sweetie. Ready to go?" Y/N smiled and sighed. "I wish I could, mama, but Mr. Rapp is having me tutor some sophomore girl."
Regina's brow furrowed. "Who?" Y/N thought for a second and then remembered.
"Some girl named Ashley Cunningham."
What. The. Fuck
Regina plastered on a fake smile. "Sounds great baby. Just come over when you're done?" Y/N smiled and nodded and kissed the blonde's cheek. "It won't be too bad."
It was bad. Very bad.
It seemed every time Regina wanted to hang out with Y/N, Ashley somehow, someway, always butted in.
"Y/N, I need help with these problems."
"Y/N, I don't get this."
And bless her girlfriend's heart. Y/N had always been oblivious, that's what took them so long to get together. As the days went on, Regina began to notice how Ashley adopted her mannerisms.
Pink on Wednesdays, doing her hair like Regina's, figuring out her perfume and buying it. It was creeping Regina out. But it was also pissing her off because there is only ONE Regina George.
The last day of this nightmare, Regina decided to pay her girl a visit during her last tutoring session with the spawn of Satan. She walked into the library and automatically saw Y/N and Ashley at a table. Y/N was overlooking Ashley's paper and Ashley seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Y/N.
Regina made her way over quietly. "Okay. Everything looks good. Just go give this to Mr. Rapp and you should be good to go." Ashley nodded and took the paper back.
"You've been such a godsend Y/N. How can I ever repay you?" Y/N shook her head. "Don't worry about it, just trying to help." Ashley draped herself over Y/N. "Please. I'll do anything."
Y/N uncomfortably moved out of the way. "Yeah, no. I have to get to Regina." Ashley scoffed. "Why have her when I'm right here?"
Regina decided to make herself known and speak up. "Because I'm better than you in every sense." Y/N smiled at the sight of her girlfriend but was met with a glare.
Ashley scoffed again. "Sure you are." Regina towered over the girl. "I know I am. Now leave."
Ashley scurried off, leaving Y/N and Regina alone. Y/N went to talk to Regina but was met with her ice queen stare and the blonde storming off and leaving.
What the hell?
The next day, Y/N was met with the cold shoulder. No kisses, hugs, affection of any sort. She was confused as to why so she went to the only person that would know.
Gretchen.
"She's mad at you."
Y/N sighed in frustration. "Yes, Gretchen. I'm aware. Can you tell me why? Instead of pointing out the obvious." Karen went to take a sip of her drink and Gretchen stopped it from going up her nose. "What were you doing all week? With who?"
Realization hit Y/N like a brick. Oh.
She had some groveling to do.
Regina was awoken from her daily after school nap to soft kisses being planted on her cheek and neck. She smiled softly.
"So you came to grovel, hmm?"
Y/N smiled softly against her neck. "Yeah, mama. I'm sorry for the past week. I was so focused on getting the tutoring done that I didn't even realize that I was neglecting you. I'm so sorry."
Regina turned over in Y/N's arms. "I forgive you, but don't let it happen again. Especially with that wannabe." Y/N smiled. "Wannabe?" Regina scoffed. "Like you didn't notice her trying to be me.
Y/N shook her head. "No?" Regina looked at her girlfriend incredulously. "She totally was. She copied my style, my hair, my mannerisms...you really didn't notice?" Y/N shook her head.
"There's only one Regina George and it's you. That's who I pay attention to."
And when Y/N came in Monday morning looking like a lovesick idiot walking with Regina, Ashley knew she lost.
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holylulusworld · 3 days
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In time
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Summary: He wants you to take another day off.
Pairing: Mafia!Steve Rogers x Librarian!Reader
Warnings: short reader, mafia au, size kink (Steve), fluff, implied/hinted future smut (oral fem rec)
Catch up here: Overdue
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“Young lady, you won’t leave this room,” his stern voice booms through the room. You bet everyone in the house can hear him. “I’m warning you. Not a step closer to the door or I’ll have to punish you.”
You huff. “We have talked about this,” you stand your ground. “You cannot stop me from leaving. I must go to work.”
“No, you won’t!” He steps closer, his shadow looming over your smaller frame. He looks down at you, a smirk on his kissable lips. “It’s Friday, and you’ll take the day off.”
“They will fire me if I take another day off,” you sigh and shake your head. “You must accept that I’m an independent woman making her own money.”
He sighs too and cups your face. Steve dips his head to press a kiss to your temple.
“I know, and I love you for being a stubborn and cute librarian, doll. It’s just that I have a surprise for you, and I cannot wait until you come home from work.”
“Steve.” You’re close to giving in once again. “I can’t, you know that. My boss will fire me, I swear. Last time you made me close the library earlier, she threw a tantrum.”
“That old hag better shut her mouth,” Steve hisses. He doesn’t like the way your boss talks to you sometimes. “Let me talk to her. I bet I can convince her to let you take as many days off as you want to.”
“Steve, threatening to cut her tongue out is not the way to convince her,” you sass, knowing about Steve’s antipathy towards your boss. “Let me go to work, and I promise to be home on time.”
“Hmmm…” Steve thinks about your offer. He steps back, and you believe he’ll let you go. You are about to walk toward the walk-in wardrobe when he grabs you by the waist and easily lifts you. He throws you, once again, over his shoulder to carry you inside the bedroom.
“Steve, Stevie,” you giggle and laugh. “Steve, that’s not funny. You must let me down. Please, I can’t miss another day at work.”
“No can do, doll,” he chuckles darkly. “I have plans for today. Plans involving you and your cute ass. I cannot let you walk out of this house today.”
“Stevie!” You slap his ass. “I’m dead serious! Let me down. I mean it. Steve!”
“It’s so cute when you believe you are in charge.” He unceremoniously drops you onto the bed, laughing when you bounce off the mattress. “How about we play a game? If you win, I’ll let you go to work. If I win, you will stay at home.”
You kneel on the bed, watching Steve circle you like prey. “No cheating?”
“No cheating, doll.” He assures you. “Is that a yes?”
“Yes. Go ahead.” You can’t wait to hear what Steve came up with this time. “What kind of game are we going to play?”
He smirks, like the devil himself. Steve darts his tongue out to wet his lips.
“I thought of hiding my face between those legs. And if you cum before I tell you so, you’ll lose. If you’re good, and wait, you'll win.”
You smirk as you stare at his thick beard. Because, either way, you’ll win. “Deal, Mr. Rogers.”
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Tags in reblog.
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You'll Be Mine and I'll Be Yours ~LA!Mihawk Imagine~
Summary: Mihawk finally asks you to be his.
Author’s Note: Now that the live action One Piece officially announced who Crocodile and Robin is and I'm in the Skypiea arc on the anime, I am posting my drafts with my Enchanted series.
Based in my Enchanted Series
Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her
Warnings: none, fluff
Do not repost this anywhere!
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“Is it bad to say that I don’t want to go home yet? Or at least not sleep just yet?” You asked Mihawk one night.
He had come back to you from being gone for so long. You hated to admit that you missed him a lot. After a dinner together, you felt like you couldn't sleep or had the feeling of wanting to go to bed. For once, you wanted to stay up.
“Why’s that?”
“Don’t know. Just not feeling sleepy right now,” you tell him.
“Then how about we take a stroll?” Mihawk asked you.
“A stroll?”
“If you’re worried about it being dangerous, don’t. I will be joining you to make sure you don’t get hurt,” Mihawk tells you.
“I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d join me even if I said no. I know you follow me to make sure I’m safe.”
“I see you finally noticed.”
“Yeah. But I’m okay with a stroll. Come on,” you tell him.
You both walked along a path side by side. The stars glowed beautifully in the sky.
“So, what does a warlord like yourself have to gain?” You asked him. The full moon shined so brightly, you didn’t need a lantern to guide your way.
“Gain from what?”
“This small village. There’s nothing really here,” you pointed out.
“You’re here aren’t you?”
You looked at him, the blood rushing to your cheeks. It began to feel a little hot to you. Damn his words always somehow got to you.
“I guess.”
“What about you? You said you were alone. What do you have to gain staying here?” Mihawk asked you.
“Honestly, I don’t know. I just keep hoping my boys will come back to me.”
“Tell me about them,” Mihawk said.
“Well they’re both pirates now. One of them is just a boy who is determined to become King of the Pirates. I used to take care of him since he was a kid along with two others. And the other one is around our age. He is a captain of a pirate crew.”
“Was he your lover?”
“Yeah. He told me he’d come back but he hasn’t," you sighed softly.
“This ex lover of yours sounds like a fool,” Mihawk said.
“Why say that?”
“Because if I had a woman like you, I could never leave her and not come back,” Mihawk tells you. You stopped walking as you stared up at him.
“You don’t mean that,” you softly spoke. You didn't want your heart broken again by another pirate.
“I do. I could never leave a woman like you alone,” Mihawk said as he held your hand. You looked down at your hands before looking away.
“Maybe we should go back,” you tell him.
“If that’s what you want.”
You nodded before letting go of his hand and heading back to your home. The walk was silent besides your footsteps on the graveled path.
When you got back to your home, you felt Mihawk take your hand into his.
“Will you be mine?” Mihawk asked. You turned to face him. Mihawk got closer to you, caging you in between him and the front door.
“What?”
“Be mine? I've fallen for you Y/n. I know you have fallen for me as well. And I swear to you, I would never let anything happen to you,” Mihawk tells you.
"I don't want my heart broken again," you tell him.
"I will never hurt you. I'd die first before hurting you," Mihawk tells you.
“Alright. I’ll be yours,” you nodded at him.
“May I kiss you?” Mihawk asked you.
“Yes please,” You nodded. Mihawk cupped your cheek before leaning in to kiss you.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed him back. You felt Mihawk pull his hand away from your cheek and move down to your waist. He pulled you in closer as he kissed you.
You pulled away from the kiss for air. Mihawk gently pressed his forehead against yours, taking in a couple of deep breaths as well.
“Do you want to stay the night?” You asked him.
“If you’d have me,” Mihawk tells you. You nodded before turning around to open the door. You pulled Mihawk inside before shutting the door and locking it.
When you woke up, you smelled food. You noticed Mihawk wasn’t next to you, making you sit up. You got out of bed and walked to the front to see him cooking in your kitchen.
“Nice to see you awake,” you tell him.
“Morning. Breakfast will be ready in a moment,” Mihawk tells you.
“So we sleep in the same bed together for the first time and you make breakfast? Any other secrets I should know about you?” You teased.
“It’s not really a secret. You’re mine now remember? I have every intention to spoil you,” Mihawk tells you. You smiled before walking over to him and kiss his cheek.
“Aren’t you romantic,” you tell him.
"Only for you my love," Mihawk says to you before kissing your cheek.
"So what do you want to do today?" You asked him.
"I was hoping to help you get over your fear of the ocean," Mihawk asked.
"Why's that?" You asked unsure.
"You've been cooped up in here for too long my love. I'd like to show you the world if you let me," Mihawk said.
"Okay. You're gonna have to be patient with me though," you warned.
"Of course," Mihawk said, giving you a quick kiss.
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cheynovak · 13 hours
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Complicated
Characters: Soldier boy x Y/N Female character     
Summary: Y/N, a young personal assistant to Soldier Boy (Ben) and Crimson Countess, is caught in a whirlwind of events that shatter her sense of stability. After accidentally witnessing an intimate moment between Ben, Crimson, and another woman, she’s left shaken and unsure how to process it. The following day, Crimson casually invites her to join them, which only adds to Y/N's confusion.
Warnings: 18+ mentioning of: threesome, cheating, build up to smut/ spice.
English is not my first language 
*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 
part 1/?
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Working for superheroes had always been my dream, and landing the personal assistant job for Soldier Boy felt like I had finally made it. At just 23, I was on the inside—right next to the legends. And more than anything, I admired Crimson Countess. I had looked up to her for years: strong, fearless, elegant, everything I wanted to be.
Soldier Boy was, well, intimidating. Ben, as I had been told to call him, was a larger-than-life presence, intense and unpredictable. But Crimson? She was the one who inspired me, and every day, I tried to live up to what I thought she represented.
Tonight was no different from most. It was late, the compound was quiet, and everyone else had left for the night. I was tying up loose ends, some paperwork mostly, when I remembered that Crimson had left a stack of files in her office. I figured I’d drop them off on her desk and head home. I had done it hundreds of times already, just part of the job.
As I walked down the dim hallway, I noticed her office door was cracked open. That was unusual; she was always so careful about her privacy. For a moment, I considered knocking, but it was late, and I assumed she had gone home. I thought I’d slip in, leave the files on her desk, and get out without disturbing anything.
But the second I stepped through the door, my world came crashing down.
Crimson Countess wasn’t alone. She was there, on the couch, barely clothed, on her knees on one side of Soldier boy while some other woman... well, sat... on his... face.
They were tangled together, moving in a way that left no room for interpretation. It was raw, intense—nothing like the polished, controlled way they presented themselves to the world. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t tear my eyes away from the scene.
My heart hammered in my chest as the reality of what I was seeing sank in. This wasn’t something my in experienced soul thought was possible. This was something darker, something intimate that I was never meant to witness.
Before I could even think to turn and leave, Ben pulled the girl of him, his sharp gaze snapped to mine and smirked, that signature cocky grin spreading across his face, like he found it funny that I had walked in on them.
“Well, look who it is,” he drawled, his voice low and thick with amusement. “Want to join sweetheart?”
My stomach churned. Crimson Countess didn’t seem to notice me, too caught up in the moment with him. His fingers tangled in her hair.
I took a step back, every nerve in my body screaming at me to get out of there. My hands were trembling as I fumbled for the door, trying not to look back, trying not to hear the low chuckle that followed me as I stumbled into the hallway.
“I—uh, I’m sorry,” I stammered, though I wasn’t sure if anyone even heard me.
My feet moved on their own, rushing down the hall, my breath coming in quick, shallow bursts. I could still feel Ben’s eyes on me, the way he hadn’t even been fazed by my intrusion. He’d looked at me like I was just part of the scenery or something to laugh about later.
The moment I burst outside, the cold night air hit me, but it did nothing to calm the storm raging inside of me. My hands shook uncontrollably as I pulled out my keys, trying to focus long enough to unlock the car door. I didn’t know how long I stood there, but eventually, I managed to get inside and slam the door behind me.
What had I just seen?
Crimson Countess—Crimson Countess—the woman I looked up to, the one I had admired for so long, wasn’t who I thought she was. And Ben, Soldier Boy, had just acted like it was no big deal, like he didn’t care at all that I just walked in on that.
My mind raced as I drove, barely registering the streets flashing by. The image of them together, so vulgar, was burned into my brain, refusing to leave me alone. They weren’t the heroes I had built up in my head. They were… something else, something I didn’t want to understand.
When I finally got home, I fumbled with the keys to my apartment, my hands still trembling. The door swung open, and I was greeted by the warm light of our living room. My fiancée Kevin was already there, standing by the kitchen counter, looking at me with concern.
“Y/N?” His voice was soft, and the second he saw my face, I could tell he knew something was wrong. “You’re home late. What happened?”
I opened my mouth to answer, but no words came out. How could I explain this? How could I even begin to tell him what I had just seen? I was sure my fiancee, respectable man he was wouldn't even understand this. My head was spinning, and all I could feel was the rush of emotions crashing over me—shock, disgust, confusion.
“I—I don’t even know,” I whispered, my voice barely audible as I set my bag down, my legs weak. I collapsed onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. “It’s… I saw something at work. Something I wasn’t supposed to see.”
He came over and sat beside me, his hand resting gently on my back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head, the memory still too raw, too sharp. I couldn’t even process it myself, let alone explain it to him. How was I supposed to tell him that the people I worked for, the heroes we had both admired, weren’t who we thought they were? That Crimson Countess, the woman I’d idolized for years, had just shattered every illusion I’d ever had about her?
“I just… need a minute,” I said softly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
He didn’t press. He just sat there with me, his presence steady and comforting in the middle of the chaos in my mind.
I closed my eyes, trying to push the images away, but they wouldn’t leave. No matter how much I wanted to forget, I couldn’t. Crimson Countess and Soldier Boy weren’t just flawed—they were something far darker. And now, I wasn’t sure if I could ever look at them the same way again.
--
The next day, I sat at my desk in the office, trying to act as normal as possible, but the memory of what I had seen last night haunted me. My fingers tapped anxiously on the keyboard, eyes glued to the paper, but my mind was miles away. Every time I tried to focus, my thoughts drifted back to Crimson and Ben… and that other side of them I had never imagined.
The Tower bustled around me—colleagues moving through the halls, casual conversation floating in the air. Everything felt normal, but I felt like I was on edge, hyper-aware of every sound, every movement. I kept telling myself that if I just acted like nothing happened, everything would be fine.
But then I heard her familiar voice and my heart dropped.
Crimson Countess.
I didn’t dare look up as she strolled over, her signature confidence radiating from every step. I tried to stay calm, but my fingers froze over the keyboard of the typewriter when I saw her lean on my desk out of the corner of my eye. She wasn’t in her full supe outfit—just casual, but even then, she exuded that effortless power and control that had always made me idolize her.
“Morning, Y/N,” she said lightly, but there was something teasing in her tone.
“Morning,” I managed to reply, keeping my gaze glued to my paper.
For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just watched the room as a few of our colleagues passed by, her lips curling into a faint smile. I could feel the tension building, and my stomach twisted in knots. I knew something was coming. I just didn’t know what.
Finally, when the coast was clear, she turned her attention fully on me, her voice low and almost conspiratorial.
"Ben told me you saw us last night."
My breath caught in my throat, and I could feel my cheeks flush bright red. It was like my whole body betrayed me, and I cursed myself for it. The heat crept up my neck and into my face as the memory of what I’d walked in on slammed back into my head.
“I—uh—” I stammered, struggling to find words. “I’m so, so sorry. I wasn’t supposed to see that. I didn’t mean to—”
Crimson waved off my apology with a casual flick of her hand, like it was nothing. Her expression was calm, her eyes almost amused, as if she found the whole thing mildly entertaining.
“No need to apologize, sweetheart,” she said, leaning in a little closer. “If you want to join next time, you’re welcome to.”
The offer hit me like a freight train. My mouth went dry, and I had no idea how to respond. I could barely believe what she was saying—it was so nonchalant, so easy for her, like inviting someone to dinner instead of, well… that.
My mind went blank, but the first thing I managed to blurt out was, “I’m engaged.”
Crimson’s eyes flickered with amusement before she suddenly threw her head back and laughed, the sound loud and echoing throughout the office. A few heads turned, but no one seemed to think much of it—this was Crimson Countess after all. People expected her to be eccentric.
“Engaged, huh?” she said with a smirk once her laughter subsided. “He’s welcome too.”
My jaw nearly hit the floor. I stared at her, completely lost for words. Did she actually mean that? The casual way she said it, as if it was no big deal, made it even harder to wrap my head around.
“I—uh, I—” I stammered, trying to find a way out of this conversation without combusting on the spot.
Crimson just smiled, crossing her arms and leaning back slightly. “No pressure, Y/N. Just let Ben or me know if you’re in or out. It’s all about options.”
Options? I wasn’t even sure how to respond to that. My entire world had flipped upside down in the span of a few seconds, and here she was acting like this was just another casual conversation.
“I… I’ll think about it,” I said quickly, though in my mind I was screaming no, no, no, wanting to escape this situation as fast as possible.
“Good girl,” she said, winking at me before pushing off my desk and walking away, leaving me sitting there in stunned silence.
As soon as she was gone, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. My heart was still racing, my palms clammy against the keyboard. I tried to make sense of what had just happened, but nothing about it made sense. What kind of world had I walked into, where things like this were normal?
And worse, how was I supposed to look her in the eye now? Or Ben? I swallowed hard, staring blankly at the text I just typed. How did I get into this situation?
--
The next day, I was running late for lunch. Most people had already returned to their desks, leaving the cafeteria nearly empty, just a handful of others grabbing a bite before heading back to work. My stomach twisted with anxiety—I still hadn’t fully processed my encounter with Crimson Countess. I barely managed to choke down a few bites of food, my nerves making me feel sick.
I was sitting at the far end of the room, hoping to avoid any more awkward encounters. But just as I thought I was in the clear, the door swung open, and in walked Ben, flanked by the TNT twins. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on me almost immediately. And then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he smirked.
My pulse quickened as he started walking over, his strides slow and deliberate, like he enjoyed the effect he was having on me. I quickly looked back down at my half-eaten sandwich, pretending to be too engrossed in my food to notice him. But it was too late.
Ben—Soldier Boy—pulled out the chair beside me and sat down, the weight of his presence making the air feel heavy. I could feel his gaze burning into the side of my face, and I silently prayed he wouldn’t bring up last night. I wasn’t ready for another awkward, twisted conversation.
"So," he began casually, his voice low, "have you spoken to Countess?"
I swallowed hard, nodding. “Yeah. She, uh… talked to me earlier.”
He didn’t say anything for a second, just stared at me, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He could sense my nerves, I knew it. My hands felt clammy, and I tried to focus on anything other than how close he was, but his presence was suffocating.
"She tell you how we like to have there sometime?" Ben asked, his tone smooth, like he was discussing the weather.
I nodded again, my throat dry. “Yeah, she… she mentioned it.” I could barely get the words out. Every part of me wanted to shrink away, to disappear, but Ben leaned in closer, closing the already small gap between us.
"I gotta say," he murmured, his voice dropping lower, "I wish you’d stayed last night." His lips curled into a smirk as he watched my reaction. I could feel my face turning red, my heart racing uncontrollably.
“I’m engaged,” I blurted out, my voice louder than I intended, desperate to set a boundary. Please, let that be enough.
But it wasn’t. Any other man might’ve taken the hint, backed off, but Ben wasn’t just any other man. He chuckled, a dark, deep sound that sent shivers down my spine.
“Engaged, huh?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly unfazed. "That’s cute, congrats, I'm sure he is eh, taking care of you."
"Oh he is." I answered way too fast. His hand moved over my arm, "So you have... some experience, thats good." I couldn't look at him thinking. Well not much, not at all if experience means what he did the other night... but I had sex before yes.
He must have read my mind "You gotta understand something, sweetheart." He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. “This is freeing. Learning to love more than just one person. Sharing is caring, right? Besides I might teach you a thing or two your man likes.”
I stared at him in shock, my mind racing, trying to make sense of what he was saying. It wasn’t just about what I had seen or heard. This was something bigger, deeper—he truly believed it, believed in some twisted version of love where boundaries didn’t exist.
My mistake was looking up at him then—really looking at him. I was too close, closer than I had ever been. For a moment, all I saw was the strong, perfect lines of his face, the chiseled jaw, the intensity in those green eyes that made it hard to think straight.
He was beautiful, magnetic, and dangerous all at once. I hated how my body reacted, how my breath caught in my throat as I felt the pull of his presence. "I-I don't think I would... like it." I stammered.
His gaze dropped to my lips, and I swore my heart stopped. My whole body tensed as I realized just how close we were, the air between us heavy with something I didn’t understand.
“You could learn to enjoy it,” he whispered, his voice seductive, filled with a kind of promise that sent a shiver down my spine.
I quickly looked away, my mind screaming at me to get out of this situation, but my body betrayed me, frozen in place, caught between fear, confusion, and something else I didn’t want to acknowledge.
“I… I can’t,” I stammered, my voice barely audible.
He smiled, a slow, predatory smile, as if he had all the time in the world. “Think about it, Y/N. Seems like you’ve got a lot to learn, want to keep your soon to be husband happy between the sheets, don't you?” His hand brushed against mine on the table, and the contact sent an electric jolt through me.
I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All I knew was that I needed to get out of there. Now.
“I should go,” I muttered, pushing my chair back so fast it nearly toppled over. I stood up, my legs shaky, and grabbed my bag. Ben just leaned back in his chair, watching me with that same smug, knowing smile, like he’d already won some kind of game I didn’t even know I was playing.
“Take your time,” he said lazily, his eyes glinting. “We’re not going anywhere.”
I didn’t dare look back as I rushed out of the cafeteria, my mind a mess of confusion, fear, and frustration. How had I ended up here? What kind of world had I gotten myself into, where boundaries didn’t exist, where people like Ben and Crimson Countess played by their own rules?
And most importantly—what the hell was I going to do next?
--
I couldn’t tell Kevin about what happened. He’d flip. The thought of trying to explain everything to him, the look of betrayal and anger that would flash across his face… I just couldn’t handle that right now. It felt like everything in my life was spiraling out of control, and I didn’t have the strength to add another confrontation to the pile.
That day, I rushed home far earlier than usual. I needed stability, something to ground me, and Kevin had always been that for me. I kept telling myself that once I got home, once I saw him, everything would start to feel normal again. He didn’t know about the world I worked in, the twisted games that came with being around supes. With Kevin, things were simple. Normal.
When I reached our apartment door, I noticed something was off before I even stepped inside. The faint glow of candlelight flickered under the door, and I could smell something sweet—champagne? My heart lifted slightly, thinking maybe he had planned a surprise. Maybe Kevin had sensed how off I’d been lately and wanted to make it up to me. The thought of spending a quiet evening together, just the two of us, made my chest ache with hope. This was what I needed.
But the second I opened the door, that hope shattered.
There he was. Kevin, sitting on the couch, cozy and comfortable—but he wasn’t alone. Another woman was with him. Her long legs were draped across his lap, her hand on his chest, and they were kissing. Not just a casual kiss, but something deeper, something intimate. The kind of kiss that said I was no longer part of the equation.
The candlelight, the champagne, the soft music playing in the background… it wasn’t for me. It had never been for me.
I stood frozen in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat, unable to process what I was seeing. My entire body went numb, like my brain was trying to protect me from the full force of what was happening.
My heart broke, a sharp pain slicing through my chest as I watched them—Kevin, the man I was supposed to marry, the man who had promised to love me, sitting there with someone else like it was the most natural thing in the world.
He didn’t even notice me at first, too caught up in the moment with her. I felt like I was drowning, my mind swirling with disbelief and devastation. I wanted to scream, to yell, to make sense of it, but all I could do was stand there, staring at the wreckage of everything I thought I knew.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he pulled back from her, and that’s when he saw me. His eyes widened in shock, and for a second, we just stood there, the silence between us deafening.
“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice laced with guilt, panic flashing across his face as he shoved the woman off his lap. She scrambled awkwardly, clearly not expecting to be caught.
“I—uh—it’s not what it looks like,” he stammered, but the words felt hollow, meaningless. It was exactly what it looked like.
My voice cracked as I finally managed to speak. “How could you…?”
He stood up, his hands out in front of him like he was trying to calm me down, like I was overreacting. “Just listen—”
But I didn’t want to listen. Not to him. Not now. Everything inside me was breaking, crumbling, and the anger, the betrayal, it hit me all at once, crashing into me like a tidal wave.
“How could you?!” I shouted, my voice trembling with hurt. “You’re… you’re... How Kevin! We were supposed to—” I choked on the words, unable to finish the sentence. We were supposed to get married. To be together.
His eyes softened for a moment, and I could see the guilt settling in. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t—"
“Don’t,” I snapped, cutting him off. “Don’t you dare say you didn’t mean for this to happen. You did.” My hands clenched into fists at my sides, my entire body shaking. “You planned this. You set this up.”
His silence said it all. The candles, the champagne, the soft music—it was all for her. Not for me. Never for me.
The woman stood there awkwardly, looking between the two of us, clearly uncomfortable but not nearly as sorry as she should have been. I felt sick to my stomach.
I turned and bolted out the door, not caring where I was going, not caring about anything other than the fact that my life, my world, had just been ripped apart in the span of a few short hours.
--
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