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#this is how the daily interactions between them go
sky-neverending · 11 months
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Inej: Where are Jesper and Wylan?
Nina: Being gay probably
Jesper, in the other room: YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEEEEN YOUNG AND SWEEEEEETTTT ONLY 17!!!!!
Wylan: There are better ABBA songs.
Jesper: You did NOT just say that.
Jesper: You did NOT
Wylan: I did
Jesper: Shut up
Wylan: Make me
Jesper: Damn. Can’t argue with that
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chososdiscordkitten · 3 months
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Baby Fever?!
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Synopsis: JJk men/reader have baby fever ≽^•⩊•^≼
Includes: 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚, 𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨 Content: afab!reader, topics of pregnancy, marriage, breeding, and having children. mostly nsfw (sorry anon) (a.n) Jesus my page has been full of baby fever nd marriage recently.
Dedicated to; this ask.
MDNI
Satoru Gojo
Ever since you first became official- Gojo had this little habit of asking to give you a baby. You always shook him off, telling him ‘no’ because it was far too soon and you were too young to start having children. 
Birth control became a necessity because of the little need he had to finish inside of you.
On one occasion of him asking the incessant question- you leaned in real close to his ear, “I will impregnate you.” you whispered.
This unlocked a whole other can of worms in Satoru’s mind. The urge to breed you was strong, but that little promise lit a fire in his soul. 
But one day, while out on a date- walking down an empty street, a child no older than 7 or 8 ran up to Satoru, Tears staining his cheeks and asking for his mom. 
Though you hardly saw Satoru interact with children in your daily life, you could see his demeanor change from a normal playful one to a more serious and authoritative one.
Crouching down to the child’s height and asking where he last saw his mom and his name—all with calm. 
You watched the little interaction unfold before you with wide eyes- the thought that Gojo was too immature to be a father completely being thrown from your mind as Satoru stood up straight and held the child’s hand in his. Guiding him back to where the child last saw his mom and reuniting the stressed mom and the crying child.
After that, more and more little instances Satoru did, made you start contemplating his little offer of giving you a child. 
Whenever you’d go shopping with him, you’d always pretend to accidentally stumble across the baby aisle.
Gojo perked a brow, watching your eyes admire the little socks attached to the onside in your hands. 
Corner of his lip curled up with a soft giggle, stepping over to you and whispering- “You’re actually considering having a kid?” he teased watching you furrow your eyebrows and hang the little onesie back on the rack. 
You shoved him with your elbow, scoffing and making a mental note to never bring this up again. 
That night, you were scrolling on your phone- watching any video that popped up of a chunky baby with a soft expression. 
Satoru was beside you, focused on his phone, but the sound of a child’s laughter made him look over at you with furrowed eyebrows- peeking over to your phone and watching the tiktok you were looking at. 
Some video of a mom showing their child’s massive hair bows- he was about to laugh at how silly the baby looked. Only he scanned your expression and got a hint as to why you hadn’t scrolled yet. 
Satoru rolled atop you, resting his head on your sternum and urging you to put your phone down. 
Holding his head in your hands- “I can give you a baby if you want one so bad~” he teased, causing you to furrow your eyebrows. 
Parting your lips with a soft gasp, “Satoru Gojo!” you feigned shock, whispering, “A child out of wedlock? What would the clan think?” you teased, mushing his cheeks together as he rolled his eyes. 
Pulling your hands from his cheeks and hoisting himself up- face to face as he placed a hand between your thighs, urging you to open them. 
Placing a kiss on your lips with a smile- “I am the clan.” he scoffed smugly. 
Toji Zenin
It all started with one little sentence he littered during intercourse, legs bent to your chest, and Toji pounding into you like his life depended on it. 
Something along the lines of, “Gonna breed this perfect pussy-” in a low husky tone. It was muttered- like his internal thoughts seeped from his lips without permission. 
But the words stayed in your mind- long after you had cleaned off his copious mess from your center. Even as Toji was snoring next to you- you stayed up thinking about the words he had muttered into the air. 
They made you squint thinking about the possibility of it. Questions you wish Toji was awake to ask him. 
Rare were the times he would sprinkle dirty talk during sex. But the way he said it, it wasn’t meant to be heard as dirty talk. The way it sounded was he spoke it as a proclamation. 
The next morning, when Toji woke up to your face pressed against his chest. Feeling your eyes watch him sleep, he woke up asking you what you needed. 
“You want to-” air caught in your throat, recalling what he said. “..breed me?” you whispered, looking at his hazy eyes and furrowed brow. 
Corner of his lip curled, “Where’d you get that idea?” he scoffed, closing his eyes and pretending not to feel your harsh gaze on his skin. 
“From you- you said it last night.”
Toji nodded ‘no’. As though the idea of him saying that was impossible. 
“Yes, you did- I heard you.” watching Toji’s smug face nod ‘no’ again. 
“You can’t gaslight me Toji- I heard you.” Your determination amused the man- feeling his chest rise in a half laugh against your cheek. 
Even a few days after- the thought lingered in your mind. Toji still refused to believe he said it- telling you that you were mistaken. 
And then Toji caught onto the feverlike smile you’d get on your cheeks whenever you’d see a baby in public. Smiling to himself as you pinched your eyebrows at the little humans. 
But there was this one time- on an elevator with a new mom and a baby in her hands. Toji noticed your staring as the woman struggled to reach into her purse, which caused it to fall and spill her belongings on the ground.
The woman sighed- looking down before peering her eyes back to you- “Could you?” she asked, holding out her baby to you- which you happily took and looked at Toji with the child in your arms. 
Toji swore his eye twitched as he watched you- happily bouncing the child in your arms before the woman reached her hands back to her child. 
After that, Toji started expressing his urgent need to breed you full of his children during intimacy- to which he still denied he said any of those things. 
“Whatever- as long as you don’t become a deadbeat again, I don’t care.” you scoffed, referring to his son he refused to talk about. 
Naoya Zenin
While he was dating you- Naoya took a lot of care in ensuring not to get you pregnant. “Children out of wedlock never result in anything good.” he would defend. He told you to start taking birth control- only you laughed in his face and said no.
That if he wanted to have safe sex- he would have to wear a condom. That you wouldn’t alter your body’s hormones just because he doesn’t wanna get you pregnant. And Naoya obliged. 
Midway through sex, pulling his ear down to your lips and telling him how much better it would feel without a condom- only for his eyes to shut tight- trying to keep his focus on not cumming, going as far as telling you to shut up. Multiple times, knowing if you didn’t, he might just listen to you.
Though you liked teasing him with the possibility. Asking if he didn’t want to see you barefoot and pregnant, waiting for him at home. Watching his neck pulse with a low gulp just thinking about it. 
In truth, you didn’t really want to get pregnant- Naoya had a point in the whole ‘marriage first, then kids.’ thing. You only liked watching his ears turn red and warm whenever you’d try and tempt him with having sex without a condom.
You didn’t think much of it- unknowing of the temptation brewing in Naoya’s mind with every waking day he didn’t marry you. 
Every time you whispered a temptation in his ear- the mental image of you waiting for him at home, swelled with his child and the future of his clan—Naoya was hanging on a very thin thread. 
And once he finally had the guts to ask you- it took very little time for the wedding to be planned. The thought of children was nowhere near your mind on the day. 
A small ceremony with his family, prancing you around like some trophy in front of the elders. 
And that night- Naoya held a gentle hand as he undid the little buttons of your wedding dress- carefully unwrapping you from the costly lace. 
You found it odd- sure. Naoya wasn’t usually the type to take things slow and gentle in this department. 
But when you looked at him, his hips between your knees with your back on the bed. Looking up at Naoya as he undid the buttons of his dress shirt- “We’re not stopping till you’re pregnant.” he huffed, tossing his shirt aside and easing himself onto the bed. 
Had you known your little temptations and offers of unprotected sex would cause his brain to rewire the idea of having kids- you still would’ve done it. Maybe with a little more tact though. 
Naoya no longer saw it as another responsibility of being head of the clan- he saw it as an opportunity to breed you again- and again. Till you were so full there was no other choice than to get pregnant. 
Suguru Geto
All it took was Suguru showing you pictures of him and the two girls he adopted when he left Jujutsu High and telling you countless stories behind the photos for you to look at him differently. 
You saw a certain change in the way you looked at him. No longer a father figure to two teenage girls, you saw him as an actual father. 
Mouthy and mean as those girls could be, you saw how gentle he was with them anyway. And you knew he could make a phenomenal father. 
You chose a tactless form of asking him. Sitting at the table eating breakfast- looking at his soft expression. 
“Would you be a dad again?” 
Suguru looked at you with furrowed eyebrows- “...Again?” unsure of when the first time he became a father was. 
You rolled your eyes, urging him to answer the question with a sigh. 
“Depends.” Geto murmured, looking back down to his phone and earning a kick from your socked foot. 
You scoffed, “On?” 
“If we are stable- money wise, and if the conditions are right.” he grinned, wondering where this topic came from. 
Your cheeks tingled in the slightest when he used ‘we’ to refer to becoming parents, answering another question you had. 
Suguru thought back to the question again, lightly raising his eyebrows at realizing what you were asking. 
“With…You?” 
You laughed- “No Suguru- with your next partner.” tone full of sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. 
“I would be open..?” he squinted, trying to gauge where you stood on this. Watching your face go unchanged at his response- wanting to hear the truth, not just something that he said catered to your opinion. “...To it?”
You grinned, “Suguru, this isn’t a trick question. Just answer honestly.” assuring him that this was a necessary conversation in a relationship. 
He gulped lightly, trying to shake away the worries of saying the wrong thing. Placing his phone on the table and looking at you with his hands between his knees. “I would love-” he grinned, cheeks blushed and avoidant of your gaze. “To have children with you.” 
You couldn’t help the shy little laugh that left your lips- “But we are a smidge too young- don’t you think?” you grinned, watching his head nod with a scoffing smile. 
“I did the teen dad thing- so maybe a little too young.” he joked- 
You nodded agreeingly, looking at him with love filled eyes- “We’ll wait till we are 40.” you grinned, watching his shoulders move in a small giggle. 
“Till 50- if we can.” 
Kento Nanami
You both had been toying with the idea of children. Small comments like, “Awe Ken-” looking at him with a soft smile. “You would be a wonderful dad.” whenever he talked about the fears of becoming a father. 
The talk of kids was spoken early in your relationship. Often were the times when the conversation of how many would come up a few minutes before bed. 
Playing with your hand in the dark, lying on your back with Nanami beside you. 
“How many?” You asked softly- hearing Nanami hum, close to falling asleep. 
A low exhale left his lips; “Two. Maybe three.” His voice husky from how close he was to falling asleep. But he was always happy to answer your questions- knowing they would keep you up if he didn’t answer. 
Rolling over onto your side and placing your head on his chest, “Twins?” you asked with a smile. Picturing the future with him as he put his hand onto your back.
Nanami let out a soft exhale with a smile. “Twins are a handful,” he spoke softly, his eyes daring to drift off to sleep as you caressed his torso.
You thought about it- remembering that you would have to carry them. “Okay. No twins.” 
Hearing his heartbeat against your ear as you thought of another question. 
“When?” 
Nanami gruffed a soft laugh, rubbing small circles on your back. “We’d have to be married first.” he mumbled. 
“Then wait a year or two.” his voice dwindling its tone as he eased into the exhaustion.
You furrowed your eyebrows, “Why?” softly blinking your eyes. 
“A year of blissful marital life before children come into the picture.” Nanami spoke, half asleep, as the tiny part of his brain that filtered his words refused to work. 
You grinned, “You wanna marry me?” softly giggling against his chest.
Nanami sighed- pressing his hand onto your back a little firmer, holding you close. “I do. Dunno why I haven’t ask you yet.” his words breathy and bordering on sleeping. 
“Should get on that-” he exhaled, hearing his breathing ease into a heavier pattern against your ear.
After that, conversations about children only came up more and more. There was talk of names and if you’d move into a house instead of an apartment. 
Slowly your own baby fever stuck onto him- you sending tiktoks of the chunky babies you’d get on your fyp didn’t help either. 
The words “Practicing won’t hurt” were uttered whenever you mentioned the word breeding. All too thankful to the iud you had, knowing the apartment would be crawling with children if you didn’t have it. 
Hiromi Higuruma
When you started letting Hiromi cum inside- he kinda just assumed that you were on something. Never hesitating to give you what you asked him for. 
But Hiromi started getting the hints that you had a particular itch in your brain that only he could scratch. 
The topic came up when you joined him for lunch- sitting outside a sandwich shop and hearing Hiromi talk about a case debriefing after this. 
Too focused on telling you about it before he realized you had stopped listening. 
Eyes looking off to the side and your thumbs twiddling in your lap. 
“Honey?” he asked, looking in the direction you were looking and seeing a mother playing with her child. Snapping your gaze back to him- 
“Sorry.” Softly exhaling, “Sorry- you were saying?” 
Hiromi furrowed his eyebrows, watching your eyes glimmer with a nervous light. Reaching a hand out to yours, “What’s wrong?” he asked- all too intuitive at what the look on your face meant. 
“Nothing- it’s okay.” Squeezing his hand assuringly. 
Hiromi raised a brow- parting his lips about to speak only for you to interrupt him. 
“Do you want kids?” preferring to rip the bandaid off rather than ease into a conversation. 
He inhaled again- only for you to speak again. “With me. I mean.” 
The corners of his lips curled, almost in a teasing smile. 
Hiromi sighed, thinking about the question and looking down to his half-finished sandwich. 
“I’ve never been in a relationship serious enough for the talk of children to come up.” he grinned, leaving your question unanswered. 
“You’ve never thought about it?” holding his hand tightly. Scared that you were illusioning yourself into a future Hiromi didn’t want. 
Hiromi tilted his head- thinking about it.
“I think I do…?” 
You pursed your lips, unsatisfied with the half answer. And Hiromi let out a blushed scoff- “If wanting kids meant wanting them with you- i do.” he clarified. Earning for you to look at him with soft eyes and a wiggling pout. 
“You mean-?” you pouted, looking at him with a soft expression. 
His eyes widened at the sudden severity in your gaze, not knowing how much his confirmation meant to you. 
Raising his hand to your lips and pressing a light peck on his knuckles “Can we?” 
“...Now?” 
You scoffed, “No, not now.” with a soft smile.
Hiromi exhaled, thinking of having an actual child- “How ’bout we focus on getting married first?” 
Choso Kamo
Ever since the first time you had sex- Choso always finished inside, no patience nor ability to time his orgasm and pull out in time. 
Not recalling the repercussions of unprotected sex- nor really caring. 
And when the conversation of children came up- You insisted on giving him an army of children. “I think it’s what you deserve.” To which he looked at you as though something awakened in his mind when you said that. 
While on dates, he would see an overly large family struggling to keep the many children in check. He would look at you and remember what you had said. 
‘An army of children.’
Between the two of you- he caught babyfever first. 
Walking through a strip mall- looking for a new pair of shoes when you passed a baby store. 
Choso tugged your hand, looking at you eagerly and leading you into the store. “Just to look,” he said. 
Holding onto a tiny pair of shoes, looking at you, and presenting them in his palm. “Are these really meant to fit a child?” 
You let out a small giggle, nodding your head yes and watching him prattle around the store. 
Asking you questions- as though you had any more idea than he did. 
Watching your face uninterested in the window shopping he was doing- “You don’t want to have kids anymore?” furrowed eyebrows and determined to cut the window shopping if you didn’t. 
You grinned, “Of course I still want to have kids.” taking his hand and placing it on your tummy as though you were already pregnant. 
Eyes wide and cheeks pink as he rested his hand onto your tummy. “You gotta pump a baby in me first.” Smiling at the fact he was already looking for things for a child that hadn’t been conceived yet. 
His mind sparked the idea of watching you grow big with his child. Made his eye twitch knowing that if you acted on your promise. That image wouldn’t be just an idea in Choso’s mind. 
Marriage didn’t make a difference to him- only a meaningless piece of paper. Like a license, or a ssn number, or money. (he’s in denial)
So the next time you had intercourse- Choso accidentally overstimulated himself. Keeping your words of ‘Pump a baby in me.’ in mind as you allowed him to pump you full of potential children. 
You did say an army of them. And Choso was more than happy to assist in creating the small army. 
-
𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭: play fighting with the jjk men!
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12K notes · View notes
ja3yun · 2 months
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The Doll House | Park Sunghoon
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doll!sunghoon x fem!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, oral (f.rec), fingering, dom!hoon (i didn't mean this, it just happened), begging but not really, horror elements, anything else lmk! wc: 8.9k synopsis: once you find out the dolls' secret, you're on the hunt to find out how they became this way. in the library you stumble across something and you're left alone with park sunghoon who promises to keep your rendezvous with jaeyun a secret from their owner, but not without something in return jaeyun | masterlist | jongseong a/n: hi! this is the second installation of this series and i'm enjoying writing it so so much! there's a little bit of the lore in here and i tried to put in some little nuggets like word play and everything to give you guys some hints! i hope you enjoy and as always, likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are always appreciated <3
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In the week following your encounter with Jaeyun, you've stirred something deep within him. Whenever possible, he finds his way to your side, lending himself to you as he helps you with your daily chores, holding onto your hand when you sit down for some relaxation time between cleaning and cooking, and most importantly - at least for him - he’s been fucking you like crazy.
Something about last week made him feel alive, stronger than he had ever felt before, and he wanted to have that feeling ignited within him almost every day. He coaxed you into having sex a second time around by using those beautiful round eyes to pull at your heartstrings and break your resolve and from then your embarrassment subsided and you used one another to your heart's desire.
Having sex with a doll puts you in the same bracket as those lonely middle-aged men who have no friends and find solace with their rubber girlfriends, which is quite embarrassing. But this is different, you like to think, Jaeyun is for all intent and purpose alive and might as well be a real human.
Sure, he doesn’t have internal organs, his skin is made from thermoplastic elastomer, and his doll shell is made from durable porcelain with insulated heat, but he’s as real as they come. You did ask him how he can get hard and fill you up to the brim with his faux seed, but he says it’s just the way he’s designed. 
Soonyeol is a kinky bitch and she knew exactly what she was doing when she purchased these specific dolls.
You break Soonyeol’s rules almost every day because of him though, venturing into his room to fuck him silly, both of you seeking pleasure and comfort in each other's presence, holding one another close late into the night, swapping stories and laughter; it is nice to have someone to talk to, even if it’s in hushed tones.
Your inquiries into his origins and existence yield no concrete answers; after all, he's only been "alive" for a short time and consequently doesn’t know much about himself, his only offering is to explain that Heeseung and Jongseong know the most out of the four of them. And with your promise to Jaeyun to keep his slip-up of spilling the beans to you a secret from his brothers, seeking clarification from the other dolls remains off-limits.
That doll can get you to do anything he asks if he wants to and it’s almost embarrassing to admit.
As you go about your daily routines, you maintain a facade of normalcy, interacting with the other three dolls just as you did before discovering their secret. You speak to them as if they were merely inanimate objects, not expecting any response in return.
Despite your efforts to remain composed, a sense of unease creeps in the longer you’re in the room with any of them that isn’t Jaeyun. You can't shake the feeling that their eyes are following you, tracking your every move with an unsettling intensity. What once was blissful ignorance is now hyper-awareness. 
At times, you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye, only to find objects mysteriously rearranged or misplaced when you turn to investigate. It's a subtle form of mischief, one that leaves you feeling disconcerted and off-balance, unsure of what other tricks they may have up their sleeves.
Jaeyun assures you time and time again that none of his brothers would act in malice, however, his words fail to instil any comfort, especially around Heeseung. 
From the moment you arrived at the mansion, Heeseung had captivated you with an inexplicable allure, drawing you in with an intensity that bordered on hypnotic. It was as if he possessed a power unlike any of the other dolls. He was the one that got you to say yes to staying, you know it.
But beneath that surface charm, there's a darkness that unsettles you, a sense of malevolence that lingers in the air whenever he's near. You can't quite put your finger on it, but there's a palpable sense of foreboding that hangs over your interactions with him, like a shadow creeping across your consciousness. He is dangerous and the soul - or whatever it is that he has that brings his doll to life - is entrenched in a dark cloud, one that you want to steer clear of for the rest of your time.
Despite your reservations, you find yourself drawn to Heeseung, unable to resist the pull of his enigmatic presence. But with each passing day, the feeling of unease only grows stronger, leaving you to wonder what secrets lie hidden beneath his doll facade.
You’re cleaning the library and the sun is beaming through the large windows, the hot sun adding an uncomfortable heat to your body.
You continue regardless, wiping your brow and dusting down the shelves with a lime green feather duster you found hidden in the kitchen cupboard. You wanted to do a good job but the library is extensive with wall-to-wall shelves filled with books ranging from present to pre-world war one and you’ll be damned if you’re cleaning each book one at a time; the feather duster will be your new best friend.
As you make your way toward the desk positioned in the centre of the room, a surge of curiosity washes over you, compelling you to indulge in a bit of snooping. The allure of uncovering secrets about the mansion and its mysterious owner, Soonyeol, proves irresistible, fueling your determination to explore further.
With cautious steps, you approach the desk, scanning its surface for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed documents. Your fingers itch with curiosity as you reach for the drawers, your heart pounding with excitement and trepidation. If there are any clues to be found, surely they would be nestled within the confines of this desk.
It’s ridiculous how exciting you find all of this like you’re in some James Bond movie about to uncover the deep secrets of the villain. It’s not that deep but you need to find some excitement in the quiet of this home, so why not make snooping around the fun part of your day?
Beside Jaeyun, of course. 
When Jaeyun is with you, you don’t pry into the mansion, scared that he will take it the wrong way, like you’re trying to expose the brothers and their minder.
Listen to yourself, Y/N. You’re worried about a doll’s feelings, you think to yourself and cringe. It’s concerning how much you don’t want to hurt the doll but that’s just the effect he has on you.
Your fingers wrap around the drawer handles, eagerness flowing through you as you prepare to reveal whatever mysteries may be hidden inside. You gently tug on the drawers, but to your dismay, they remain firmly closed, guarding their contents from prying eyes.
Frowning in frustration, you give the handles a harder shake, trying to remove whatever mechanism is keeping them locked. Despite your attempts, the drawers refuse to move, it's secrets tantalisingly out of reach.
“Shit,” you murmur, trying one more time.
Your gaze wanders over the desk, looking for any sign of a key or secret compartment that may lead to the contents of the drawers. Your pulse rushes with excitement as you dig through the desk, brushing your fingertips around the edges in search of a secret latch or trapdoor.
However, as you scan every inch of the desk, your search provides no results, leaving you feeling irritated and dissatisfied. There must be some way to get those drawers open, there’s no way if there wasn’t something secret inside, some form of incriminating evidence about Soonyeol, that she would keep them locked up. 
As you stand before the locked drawers, your mind flows with questions regarding Soonyeol's occupation and the mystery surrounding her actual identity. The mansion's vintage furnishings and rows of ancient porcelain dolls appear to point to a career in antique collecting, but an ongoing feeling of anxiety suggests darker possibilities. If she was a mere collector, how on earth did she manage to obtain four dolls who are alive? Is she just insanely clued up on possessed dolls and where to find them on eBay?
You look around the room to see if any pictures are hung suspiciously, all those nights of binge-watching Sherlock Holmes are coming in handy because you know now that pictures almost always hold either a safe or a taped-up key behind them.
You meticulously inspect each picture frame in the library, your eyes scanning for any signs of hidden compartments or concealed keys. You check portrait after portrait, your fingers tracing along the edges of each frame, but your efforts yield no results. Disappointment threatens to overwhelm you as you realise that your search has so far been fruitless.
Why is this proving to be so difficult? Surely there has to be something you can scope out, even a bobby pin would suffice at this point so you can pick at the locks.
Just as you're about to give up hope, your eyes fall upon an unusual floor-length portrait hanging inconspicuously on the far wall. It depicts the bizarre scene of a lamb with a human body, eating its sheep counterparts. It’s an unsettling fusion of outlandish and grotesque. You can't help but grimace at the tasteless decor choice, wondering what possessed Soonyeol to hang such a peculiar painting in her library. 
“Seriously? She is one fucked up lady,” you wince to yourself, wondering why she couldn’t just have a poster of some kittens or literally anything else.
Despite your feelings of unease, curiosity overcomes you, and you move forward to inspect the painting more closely. As you reach out to touch the frame, your fingers brush over the edge, and you notice that it seems there is a gap between it and the wall, as if there is something hidden behind it.
With your heart pumping from anticipation, you carefully pull the picture from the wall, exposing a dark wooden door that is concealed behind it. Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that this may be the breakthrough you've been waiting for. With shaky hands, you reach for the rusted doorknob and give it a cautious jiggle.
But just like the locked drawers, the door remains firmly sealed shut, thwarting your attempts to uncover its secrets. You groan out loud, tossing your head back and shutting your eyes in frustration. 
"What has a girl gotta do to find out what the fuck is going on in this place?" you mutter under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration and determination. You refuse to be deterred by this setback, knowing that you're not one to give up easily.
Gathering your resolve, you kneel down to inspect the door handle, your fingers tracing the contours of the keyhole with a sense of anticipation. You can feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on you, the tension in the air palpable as you prepare to uncover whatever secrets lie beyond this enigmatic door.
As you peer inside the keyhole, your breath catches in your throat, your eyes straining to penetrate the darkness that shrouds the room. Every fibre of your being is on high alert, a sense of anticipation tingling at the back of your mind. 
But then, just as you begin to make out the faintest hint of movement within the darkness, something catches your eye - a faint glimmer of red light flickering like a flame from within the depths of the keyhole. Your heart skips a beat as a surge of apprehension courses through you, a sense of foreboding tightening its grip on your chest. 
What is that? 
Your heartbeat quickens as you realise whatever it is, it’s not good and it’s trapped behind that door for a reason. You squint your eyes further, trying to focus on the faint shapes you can see throughout the room but it’s proving difficult, the red beam being your only sense of light.
Time appears to slow to a crawl as you watch the red light pulse and flutter, its intensity increasing with each passing moment. Your palms go sweaty in anticipation, and the hair on the back of your neck stands on edge as you brace yourself to find out what is behind the door.
Then, without warning, just as you go to reach for the handle once again, the red light bursts brightly, obscuring your eyes. With a startled scream, you stagger backwards and deck onto the hardwood floor, your heart beating as adrenaline rushes through your veins. The room swirls around you as you try to regain some form of direction, your senses overwhelmed by the abrupt blast of light and the overpowering feeling of dread that persists in the air.
“Fuck!” you manage to yell out and as your senses slowly return, you find yourself gasping for breath, the remnants of the red flame still burning brightly in your vision, creating white spots behind your eyelids. With trembling hands, you reach out to steady yourself, your heart pounding in your chest as your blood pumps nervously through your veins.
In a daze, you glance to your right, your gaze falls upon the portrait you had removed from the wall and it's changed - it is now portraying a human head with a sheeps body, eating it's mesty carcass, blood smeared over it's mouth and wool.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you quickly rush to replace it, your hands shaking as you fumble with the frame. Your heart feels as though it's about to burst from your chest as you struggle to hang the painting back in its rightful place.
Finally, with the portrait back on the wall, you step back, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you try to steady your racing heart and swallow the sick that rose from the pit of your stomach out of fear. 
But as you turn around, your heart jolts to a panicked stop in your chest as a new wave of terror washes over you. Sitting there, in the corner of the room where there was nothing before, is one of the dolls - Park Sunghoon, motionless and silent.
“Jesus fucking Christ, you are the last thing I need right now,” you say in frustration, pinching your eyes to extract the last few spots from your vision. It’s bad enough that you’ve just been blinded by god knows what, and now you’re being startled by Sunghoon’s sudden appearance.
Breathing out, you compose yourself and nod, “Okay, so I won’t be going near that door again,” you swallow thickly, trying to inject a laugh to lighten your heavy heart. Scouring around in Soonyeol’s drawers was one thing but you would rather be massacred by a hatchet at the hands of dear Sunghoon over there than find out whatever the fuck is behind that door.
As you regain your composure, a manic laugh escapes your lips, a mix of nervous energy and relief bubbling to the surface. Sunghoon remains motionless, his expression unchanged, as if unaffected by the chaos unfolding around him.
You approach him with a mixture of curiosity, noticing the pair of frameless glasses perched on his face. It's a strange sight as you certainly didn’t put them on him this morning because why on earth would a doll need reading glasses?
"A fashion statement?" you quip, tapping the side of the lenses lightly. The failed joke eases some of the tension that still lingers in the air, and you find yourself chuckling softly as you take a seat on the table beside him.
Leaning in close, you lift Sunghoon's chin to meet your gaze, studying his features with fascination and admiration. Despite the unsettling circumstances, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of solace that washes over you as you take in his ethereal beauty.
His hair falls in soft waves around his face, his bangs framing his eyes in the most captivating way. His features are striking, from the delicate freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks to the sharp line of his jaw. Sunghoon's beauty is almost otherworldly, captivating you in a way that you can't quite explain.
"You'll protect me from whatever is in there, right?" you joke, trying to lighten the mood but Sunghoon sits mute and unmoving. You ponder if staying still like that hurts them or is uncomfortable; does it just come naturally? There are so many questions but after that ordeal, you’ll give up on prying for now.
You pat Sunghoon's cheek softly, smiling down at him before deciding to press on with your chores, hoping that the mundane tasks will help ease some of the weight from your shoulders and restore a sense of normalcy to your day.
With careful hands, you adjust Sunghoon's head to stare forward once more, a futile attempt to spare him any unnecessary discomfort - although you can't help but wonder if he's even capable of feeling pain. Setting him back in place, you make your way to the desk and retrieve your duster, ready to resume your duties.
Focusing your attention on the far side of the room, away from the ominous door, you begin to polish the ancient globe that sits near the entranceway. 
Spinning it idly, you sigh and think about all the places you want to see before you die. You’ve been stuck in this city your whole life only going as far as hopping from city to city and you are in dire need of some vacation time. Maybe it’s the red light that almost blinded you, but you’ve never felt more of an urge to pack up and go.
Maybe it’s just this place you need to get away from. 
But you’re stuck, something is keeping you here. Any normal person who saw what was behind that door would have run for the hills and never looked back, yet, despite the fear in your body that lingers deep inside, you don’t want to leave.
You’ve said this whole time it’s for the money but you could find work somewhere else, a job that wouldn’t give you chills in your bones. 
Once you’ve settled your nerves fully, you want to keep investigating this place and find out why Jaeyun and the other dolls are alive, and unfortunately for you, you have a sneaking suspicion that whatever is behind that door might just hold your answers. 
As you continue to clean, your eye is pulled to an object perched on one of the shelves: an old camera. Intrigued, you approach it, admiring its appearance with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. The camera's folding body, made of worn leather, emanates timeless beauty and carved nameplates on the side hint at its extensive past.
Upon closer inspection, you recognise it as a model from the 1940s or 1950s, similar to the Agifold your grandmother used to own. Memories of her beloved camera fill your thoughts, followed by a twinge of regret that you never got the opportunity to use it yourself. But now, with no one to stop you, an opportunity presents itself.
Gently, you pick it up and inspect it further, opening the back to see some film still lodged inside. You gently pick up the camera, its weight cooling in your hands. Opening the back panel, you uncover a roll of film that is still wedged inside.
Raising the camera to your eye, you adjust the focus and squint, searching for the perfect angle to capture the essence of the room. With a steady hand, you press the shutter button, the satisfying click echoing in the silence of the room.
Flash.
As you lower the camera from your eye, a satisfied smile tugs at the corners of your lips. But as your gaze sweeps across the room, a chill creeps down your spine, and the smile freezes on your face.
Something is…different.
You scour the room, your eyes darting from one corner to the next in an attempt to discern what has changed so abruptly. It feels as though the world shifted in the blink of an eye, leaving you disoriented and on edge. The familiar sights of the room offer little solace as you search for any sign of what could have caused the sudden disturbance.
The painting of the sheep still hangs on the wall, which means the door remains shut - good. The books on the shelves remain undisturbed, their spines aligned in neat rows. The windows are shut tight, allowing only a faint breeze to filter through the cracks in the draught. Everything appears to be as it was before, except for one glaring absence.
Sunghoon.
Your breath catches in your throat as you realise that the lifelike doll is no longer within your line of sight. He has vanished without a trace, leaving behind only an eerie emptiness in his wake.
A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of his disappearance. Despite Jaeyun's assurances that his brothers are harmless, you cannot shake the feeling of unease that settles over you like a heavy fog. Even though Jaeyun is kind to you, the others may not share his benevolence. In a house filled with secrets and shadows, trust is a fragile thing, easily shattered by the slightest whisper of doubt. 
“You shouldn’t go around touching things that aren’t yours,” a hushed voice flows from behind you, taking advantage of your transfixed body to reach around your waist and take the camera from your trembling hands.
As he lets out a chuckle, Sunghoon moves around you with grace, returning the camera to its rightful place on the shelf. His towering presence now looms over you, casting a shadow that seems to swallow you whole.
Yet, you don’t feel threatened like you thought you would, somehow it was his lack of presence that put you on edge but now that he is standing before you, you know deep down you are in no harm. Your body relaxes a little, your spine finding its strength again as you straighten your posture.
Your movements amuse Sunghoon, his tongue running along his prominent canine as he smirks, “You don’t seem surprised?” he asks but it’s more of a statement than a question. He knows you must have already been in on their secret, “So was it Jaeyun? Did he spill like we thought he would?”
Jaeyun’s saddened face pops up into your head after your first time with him, begging you not to tell the others as they already see him as incompetent. The memory tickles your heart and you start to shake your head definitively, “No, I am shocked, look!” you say, bringing up your shaky hands to his eye level, a feeble attempt to convince Sunghoon.
“Oh really? Then why didn’t you question how I moved from my bedroom to the library without you carting me around in that fuck awful wheelchair?” Sunghoon queries, raising his eyebrow in mock suspicion. He knows you know, he’s just waiting for you to admit it.
“No, I…I just thought…I was…”
“You are a terrible liar, Y/N,” he scoffs out an endeared laugh and pushes your hand away from his face, “It was him, wasn’t it?”
Your heart pounds against your chest as Sunghoon’s stare holds you captive, those beautiful glass eyes slowly dissolving your loyalty to Jaeyun. You are trying so hard to come up with an excuse as to how you know their secret but the doll before you is so alluring in his beauty that your brain might as well be replaced with a tin of mushy peas.
He licks his bottom lip and starts to laugh as your silence becomes his confirmation. 
“Shit,” you huff out, looking down, feeling bad for betraying Jaeyun like this. One tiny secret was all you had to keep and you’ve given it up without even uttering a word. Fuck these dolls and their power over your resolve.
Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, shaking his head in disbelief, “He really can’t keep his mouth shut,” he says to himself quietly, astonished that he even had any faith in the yapping puppy to begin with.
Your back goes up, eyebrows knitting together, “Hey! Don’t blame him like that,” you say defensively.
He halts his laughter and slowly looks at you, tilting his head, “Oh?...oh…” he mutters, a wide smile of bewilderment appearing on his face as he starts to piece you and Jaeyun’s relationship together, “How on earth did he manage to pull you? Did he give you a bat of his lashes and that signature pout? Did he make his eyes do that stupid sparkle? Hmm?”
You're taken aback by Sunghoon's accurate description, a mix of surprise and embarrassment colouring your expression. How did he know exactly what Jaeyun had done to win you over? Does Jaeyun do this with every housesitter?
Sunghoon watches your reaction with amusement, his grin widening as he sees the realisation dawn on you. "Ah, I see it now," he says, his voice tinged with playful mockery, "He's quite the charmer, isn't he? You know, he isn’t as innocent as he looks, he knows what he is doing."
You shift from one foot to another, looking down at your hands. It’s embarrassing for any woman to be hit with the truck of truth, especially when it’s about succumbing to a man, but a doll? That’s even more humbling. 
Lifting your chin, he gives you a smug smile as he sees inside your mind, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed, baby girl, Soonyeol is the same. She loves it - to look after him, coddle him whenever he wants, and give him kisses in passing,”  he leans down to make direct eye contact with you, a flash of something behind his iris’ brings you to attention as he continues, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it, that you have fun?”
You feel yourself nodding because he’s right. Inside of yourself, you knew Jaeyun was luring you into bed but you wanted it just as much as him, so did you really get played? And you enjoy his company, his constant telling of stories and his high energy, you’ve grown to cherish him with each passing conversation. 
Sunghoon observes the gears turning in your mind. "Can I tell you something?" he asks, his lips whispering over your cheek. You nod, permitting him to continue, your eyes fixed on his as he leans in closer, his lips almost brushing against your ear. "He's been unusually happy since you arrived," he murmurs softly, "I think you might be his new favourite person."
His admission causes a warm flush to spread across your cheeks, a mixture of surprise and delight flooding your senses. Knowing that Jaeyun feels a similar connection to you fills you with a sense of happiness and validation. You can envision Jaeyun becoming a lifelong friend, someone you cherish deeply.
While his initial intent might have been to charm you into fucking him, the time you've spent together since then feels genuine and sincere. You take comfort in knowing that Jaeyun values your companionship and enjoys your presence for more than just physical intimacy.
Sunghoon inhales sharply through his teeth, a disapproving tsk escaping him, "I don't think Soonyeol would be too pleased about that," he remarks, pulling back slightly as if considering the ramifications. "After all, Jaeyun is her favourite, and if she were to discover you've been fucking her precious little puppy..."
Your eyes widen in alarm as you grasp the implication of his words, shaking your head frantically as you instinctively raise your hands in a defensive gesture, "No, no, no, you can't tell her!" you exclaim, your voice tinged with desperation. You find yourself on the verge of pleading, almost dropping to your knees in a last-ditch effort to appeal to Sunghoon's mercy, "I need this job," you implore, your voice trembling with anxiety.
Sunghoon's lips curl into a sly smirk as he watches your panic-stricken reaction. "Well, I suppose I could keep my mouth shut..." he muses, drawing out the suspense and relishing in your apprehension.
Your heart pounds in your chest as you hang on to his words, hope flickering within you at the possibility of him relenting. But just as quickly as your hope appears, it’s gone as you see the dark shimmer in his eyes behind his glasses, the way his tongue is sitting on the inside of his cheek as he watches you.
“You can’t be serious? You’re blackmailing me into having sex with you?” you retort, the revulsion evident in your tone.
"I'm not a creep, Y/N, I wouldn't do that," Sunghoon responds, a hint of offence lacing his words. As you meet his gaze, you feel a pang of regret for assuming the worst about him. But he lowers his voice, his eyes hooded as they lock onto yours. "I'd only fuck you if you wanted me to," he murmurs, the timbre of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You find yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, a nervous habit forming as you bite your lip.
Sunghoon's hands find their way to your waist, drawing you closer until he’s pressed firmly against you. His nearness is intoxicating, and you can't help but tip-toe to etch closer to his face, craving more of his presence. His lips hover tantalisingly close to yours, teasing you with the promise of something more.
"Oh? Would you like that?" he asks smugly, his grip on your waist tightening as he effortlessly makes you melt under his touch, succumbing to him like putty in his hands. It's crazy how much power these dolls possess over you, their allure is irresistible and their influence undeniable.
His smug expression only adds to the internal chaos, making you feel both irritated and strangely drawn to him. You want this more than you would like to admit, perhaps it was the comfort he was bringing to you after your ordeal with the door, or maybe it’s because you’re an idiot that simply wants to fuck him.
Sometimes there is no other reason than pure lust.
Sunghoon's grin widens as he sees you surrender to him, his fingers dancing on your waist as he leans in even closer, closing the already minimal gap between your lips and before you can fully comprehend what's happening, his lips brush against yours in a teasingly soft caress. It's a fleeting touch, but it ignites a fire within you, awakening something.
You're acutely aware of how vulnerable you are in this moment, how easily Sunghoon has managed to unravel your defences and ensnare you in his web of temptation. He is doing exactly what Jaeyun did to you last week, and just the same, you’re letting him because you want it.
"Tell me to stop," Sunghoon whispers, his voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart. His hands continue their gentle exploration, tracing the contours of your sides with a feather-light touch that sends tremors of pleasure coursing through your body.
It's a cruel temptation, the way he places the power in your hands, knowing full well that you won't utter that simple word; not when every caress feels like fire against your shivering skin.
Instead, you close the gap, your mouth melding against his as your once shaky hands now thread through his hair, pulling him further into you. You can feel his victorious smile against your lips as he guides you to sit on the very desk you were snooping around earlier, pressing your ass against the edge.
He briskly undoes your jean buttons, his lips planting one long kiss on yours before he sinks past your tits and stomach until he is on his knees in front of your pussy. Teasingly, he pulls down your bottoms, slowly but surely exposing your dampened core to him.
“There you are,” he mutters, placing a gentle peck on your pubic bone, his lips lingering there as he savours the moment. He looks up at you behind his glasses and smirks as he sees your chest rising and falling in anticipation, “I’ll make sure you feel good, baby girl, don’t worry.”
His smirk widens as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he trails kisses along the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. Each touch is deliberate, calculated to elicit a response from you, and you can't help but arch your back in anticipation, silently urging him to continue.
With a soft sigh of contentment, Sunghoon grants your unspoken desires, his tongue delicately tracing the beginning of your slit. He flattens it against your tender flesh, savouring the taste of you as he lingers there, lost in the intoxicating sensation of your essence. 
You grind your hips onto his face and before you know it, you’re riding his face, using your hips to move your clit along his rigid tongue. Your fingers desperately seek to find refuge on a surface to steady you, which they find in his hair, tugging gently at his scalp to help anchor you.
Sunghoon is loving it as much as you are, the smile on his face is a testament to this. He pries your legs further apart to sink his mouth further into your heat, the tip of his wet muscle now working in tandem with your hips to help you out.
"F-fuck," you moan breathlessly, your body arching instinctively towards him as he spreads your folds between the fingers of his right hand. Anticipation courses through your veins as he teases you with soft, long licks, each stroke of his tongue sending waves cascading through your body.
You're consumed by both pleasure and longing, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of his touch. Every lingering, deliberate swipe of his tongue against your clit makes it throb with need, and you find yourself clenching around nothing, yearning for more.
You want him to go faster, to get you to the edge quickly so he can fuck you against this desk, but at the same time, you're intoxicated by the slow, deliberate pace of his movements. He’s so good at this it’s almost awe-inspiring. 
Sunghoon's long fingers stroke up and down your folds with a delicate touch, savouring the sight of you spread open before him. But he needs more, he wants to see you completely exposed and at his mercy. With a determined gaze, he shifts your legs over his shoulders, positioning you firmly on the edge of the wooden desk.
"Your pussy is the closest to heaven I'll ever get," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips as he takes in your needy expression. Your whimper for attention to your clit only fuels his desire further, "I want to make you beg so bad, baby girl," he adds, his voice dripping with need, "but I don't want to wait to see what it feels like to have you cumming on my tongue."
The plea escapes your lips before you can stop it, your desire overriding any sense of restraint, "Please, Sunghoon," you moan, your hips instinctively thrusting towards him, begging for his touch.
He can't resist the temptation any longer. With a hunger that borders on desperation, Sunghoon spreads your folds open once again, his gaze fixated on you in this new position. He licks his lips in anticipation, his mouth watering at the sight of your glistening wetness.
His tongue flicks over your hood, teasing your clit with quick, back-and-forth strokes that send electric shocks through your veins. You writhe beneath him, lost in the overwhelming sensation of his touch as he expertly pushes you to the edge. 
Sunghoon’s glasses steam up as he switches between licking and sucking your clit, drawing out moans of pleasure from both of you. There is nothing he loves more than eating pussy, the feeling of someone’s sweetness on his tongue is the best feeling he’ll ever know, he could spend hours just worshipping each and every cunt on the planet.
But he knew from the moment you walked in, that he had to have just one taste of you.
“Sunghoon, fuck,” you moan through bated breaths, holding his head hostage between your legs - not that he minds, the desperation your exhibiting only heightens his desire to consume every part of you, to make you unravel under his touch.
Your back presses against the desk, the crumpled documents from Soonyeol's work forgotten beneath your squirming body. In this moment, nothing matters except the overwhelming pleasure that consumes you both.
Sensing that you're on the brink of orgasm, Sunghoon dips two of his fingers into your warm, inviting heat, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.
"Fuck, Sunghoon, yes," you scream, your voice filled with desperation and hunger as his fingers join his mouth to drive you wild. You're teetering on the verge of bliss, your body twitching with anticipation as he deftly guides you to the peaks of pleasure.
"That's it, baby girl," he murmurs, his voice husky with desire. "Let go for me..."
As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, you cry out his name, your body trembling with the intensity of your release. Sunghoon watches you with a satisfied smile, his own desire burning brightly in his eyes. His fingers never let up, continuing to pump in and out of you as your climax washes over you, coating his hand and even spurting onto his face.
Standing up, Sunghoon keeps his digits buried deep inside you, still wriggling them around as he leans over your spent body on the desk. "If this is you with just my mouth and fingers," he says, pausing to give you a sweet kiss, "then just imagine you on my cock."
His words send a shiver of want down your spine, and you can't help but imagine the feeling of him buried deep inside you, filling you completely. The thought alone is enough to reignite the fire of desire within you, and you find yourself yearning for more of him, for the pleasure only he can provide.
Withdrawing his fingers from you, he brings them to his mouth, licking himself clean of your cum. The sight has you gasping, wishing his mouth was back on you, using that tongue just one more time. Sunghoon sees the need in your eyes and smiles cockily.
"You want a taste?" he asks, already offering his fingers to your parted lips. You eagerly accept, sucking and licking them clean, savouring the lingering taste of yourself on his skin. "You taste unreal, right?" he remarks, his voice husky with desire.
You nod, popping your mouth off his fingers, "How can you taste me if you've got no taste buds?" you ask, genuinely curious. There's still so much you don't know about these dolls, and each revelation only adds to your intrigue.
"Ah, we're all different makes. Some have functions others don't," Sunghoon explains as he begins to undress, leaving him in only his boxers and glasses.
"So you can taste? What can the others do?" you inquire, your curiosity piqued.
"You bored of me already, baby girl?" he teases, deflecting your question with a smirk. His hands grip the bottom of your t-shirt, and with a swift motion, he lifts it over your head, leaving you exposed and vulnerable on the desk, "The real question you should be asking is what else I can do."
You lie naked before him, anticipation palpable in your expression as you look him up and down, suddenly intrigued by the possibilities. "What can you do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, eager to discover the depths of pleasure he can offer.
“Let me show you,” he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.
He pushes his boxers down, revealing his throbbing arousal. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him, his length throbbing in his hands. Each time he pumps, the pulsing of the fake veins quickens. He presses his cock against your folds and you feel the pulse.
"Do you feel it?" Sunghoon asks, already knowing the answer as he watches you involuntarily move your hips, seeking more of the delicious friction his cock provides.
You nod eagerly, your desire mounting with each passing moment. The anticipation of what's to come sends a wave of heat rushing through you, and you can't help but yearn for more of him.
You understand Soonyeol a lot more now.
Slowly, Sunghoon guides himself to your entrance to let you feel the throbbing more intensely as he begins to push inside you. The sensation is electrifying, sending your body into a flush as he fills you completely with his length.
Imagine if every man possessed this kind of touch; maybe, just maybe, there'd be less reason to complain. It's like slipping into a dream, feeling his hands explore every inch of you as he eases into a gentle rhythm of thrusting.
You find yourself lost in the sensation, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. His movements synchronise with the rhythm of your heartbeat, building a crescendo of desire.
You can't help but draw comparisons to Jaeyun, though you don't mean to. Their approaches to pleasing you are starkly different. Jaeyun is fervent and eager, consumed by his own need for you. His passion is raw and primal, leaving you breathless and craving more, even as you revel in the intensity of his desire.
In contrast, Sunghoon's touch is confident and measured. Each thrust is a masterpiece of skill and intention, as if his sole purpose is to ensure you experience the pinnacle of pleasure. There's a depth to his movements, leaving you utterly captivated by the artistry of his fucking. He was born to do this.
Once he senses your body yielding to him, growing accustomed to the girth of his cock, he presses his hand firmly against your lower stomach, anchoring you to the desk as he intensifies his rhythm. His muscles tense with each powerful thrust, driving deeper into you with a primal urgency.
"God, you're tight," he remarks, a cocky grin spreading across his face. His glasses slip down the bridge of his nose, his tousled hair falling into his eyes, "Are you sure Jaeyun's been fucking you?" he teases, his voice laced with playful arrogance as he revels in the control he holds over your pleasure.
As Sunghoon's words cut through the haze of pleasure, a pang of guilt tugs at your conscience. Despite the lust coursing through you, his casual dismissal of Jaeyun stirs conflicting emotions within you. Jaeyun may not be perfect, but he holds a place in your heart that you can't deny.
"I... I don't like when you talk about him like that," you manage to say between breaths, your voice wavering slightly. 
But that only makes him pound into you deeper as you cry out. Your hands reach for his arm as you grip it tightly, trying to keep yourself grounded as he fucks you with an intensity like never before.
Sunghoon's response is a low growl, his grip on you tightening as he drives into you with an almost punishing force, "You don't want me talking about your little puppy?" he taunts, his words laced with a mixture of lust and disdain. The sound of the drawers rattling beneath you only adds to the chaotic symphony of pleasure and pain enveloping you.
Your head swims with conflicting desires, torn between the familiar comfort of Jaeyun's touch and the intoxicating thrill of Sunghoon's dominance. And as his thumb finds its way to your clit, sending bolts of ecstasy shooting through your body, you can't help but succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, surrendering yourself completely to the man who's determined to claim you as his own.
"I hit a nerve, huh?" Sunghoon's laughter rings out, a mixture of amusement and triumph lacing his words as he continues to tease your sensitive clit, each flick sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.
You try to form a coherent response, but all that escapes your lips are desperate moans and gasps as Sunghoon's relentless assault pushes you closer to the edge. Sensations overwhelm your senses, leaving you trembling and breathless in his grasp.
"What's the matter, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice drips with mock concern, his tone betraying his underlying satisfaction, "Did I touch a sore spot because you know I’m right? That pup could never fuck you this good, just admit it." His thumb circles your clit once more, sending a bolt of lightning up your body.
You bite back a whimper, your mind clouded with a mixture of arousal and frustration. The realisation dawns on you that you're caught in the middle of a rivalry, a competition between two men, each determined to outdo the other.
But amidst the chaos of conflicting emotions, one thing becomes clear - in this moment, there is only Sunghoon, his touch, his dominance, consuming you completely.
As Sunghoon redoubles his efforts, fucking into you so good you think you might struggle to walk for a week, you find yourself surrendering to him; but as long as you’re getting fucked like this, who cares?
"Sunghoon," you manage to gasp out between ragged breaths, your voice pleading yet smothered with arousal, "Please..."
He pauses, his movements slowing as he looks down at you, a predatory glint in his eyes. "Please what, Y/N?" he taunts, his voice dripping with amusement, "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head frantically, unable to form a coherent response, "No," you whimper, your fingers clutching at the edge of the desk for support, "Fuck...don't stop."
A wicked grin spreads across Sunghoon's face as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, "That's what I thought, baby girl.” He kisses you messily, his fingers circling your sensitive bud as he continues his pace.
Sunghoon's eyes latch on yours, a knowing grin on his lips as he awaits your release. The air crackles with eagerness, "You're almost there, aren't you, Y/N?" Sunghoon's voice is deep and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his words stoke the fire inside you, "Just a little more..."
His words propel you over the brink, sending you spinning into oblivion as waves of ecstasy rush over you. You yell out his name, your body quivering with the intensity of your release as you surrender totally to the euphoria surging through you.
Sunghoon stares at you with dark, hungry eyes, his own release near as he continues to push into you with unwavering passion. He turns his thrusts from rapid to sharp, the vibration excruciating with each punch of the tip of his cock to your linings. He is so smug as you knock the lamp off the table by accident, too busy trying to escape the overstimulation you’re pussy is experiencing, but he holds you still.
"Give me just one more minute, baby girl, you can handle it, right?" he rasps, his voice thick with desire, eliciting a groan from you. He's moving with the intensity of an animal, overwhelming yet fucking satisfying.
His glasses teeter on the edge of his nose, moving by the force of his thrusts. With a swift motion, you snatch them from his face, placing them on your own and viewing him through a new lens. He's breathtakingly beautiful, with or without the glasses, but especially in this moment.
"Please, Hoonie, cum inside me," you plead, pushing the glasses to the tip of your nose. As Sunghoon takes in the sight of you, combined with your newfound nickname for him, he loses all semblance of control.
With a final, powerful thrust, he spills into you, his release coating your insides as some spills onto the desk below. The vibrations from his cock cease, and he remains still inside you, his face buried in your neck as he trembles with the intensity of his climax.
Sunghoon's trembling subsides as he lifts his head from your neck, his eyes locking with yours in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss, "You're incredible, Y/N," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and reverence, “I can’t let him have you to himself,” he admits, a smirk playing on his face.
You return his smile, your chest still heaving and your body buzzing with the aftermath of your shared passion. "He did mention that Soonyeol shares you all," you point out, a playful glint in your eyes.
Sunghoon nods, his expression turning serious as he brushes a strand of damp hair away from your face. "True, but she doesn't exactly fuck us every day," he confesses, his voice low and husky with desire, mischief evident in his expression.
"We don't have to..." you begin, but Sunghoon cuts you off with a determined look.
"You're fucking mad if you think for a second I'm going to let any opportunity to have you slip away," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument, "I'll take you whenever and wherever I can, Y/N. That's a promise."
“Am I going to have to sort out a rota?” you joke, giggling as you begin to sit up, his cock slipping out of you with a soft pop.
Taking a tissue from the box laid on the desk, he wipes you down, something Jaeyun doesn’t do at all. But Jaeyun does cuddle which is something you can’t imagine Sunghoon doing. 
As he tosses the tissue into the waste basket and begins to get dressed, you watch him with a mixture of affection and anticipation. "Put me on the first shift tomorrow, yeah?" he requests, his voice tinged with eagerness.
You nod with a smile, already looking forward to the next time you'll be together. "Consider it done," you agree, a spark of excitement igniting within you at the prospect of what tomorrow might bring.
You hop off the desk and begin to put your clothes back on, satisfaction courses through your body, yet your mind remains unsettled. There’s one lingering question you hope Sunghoon can answer before he retreats back to his room.
“Hey, Hoonie?” you shout before he reaches the door to exit. He turns around and looks at you expectantly, “What’s behind that door?” It’s a loaded question but one you need answers. No amount of fucking can make you forget that spine-curling red light.
Sunghoon sighs, his steps retracing back to where you stand, his hands reaching for your face. You wonder what he's up to until you feel him peel off his glasses, giving them a quick clean before settling them back on his nose.
“Do me a favour?” he asks, his tone carrying a weight you can't ignore. You nod, hoping he'll grant your request for insight into the mystery beyond that door.
“I won’t tell Soonyeol about you fucking us if you agree to stop sticking your nose into matters that don't concern you, understood?” his words sting, his stare unwavering as he awaits your response. Whatever lies behind that door is a sensitive topic, only fueling your curiosity further.
There’s no denying you need this job though, so with a reluctant sigh, you nod in agreement, accepting the terms of his proposal, "Okay, Hoonie," you concede, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders, "You have a deal."
Sunghoon's lips curve into a small smile, a glimmer of appreciation shining in his eyes. "Good," he replies, his voice softening with approval. "Now, let's keep this between us, shall we? Jaeyun doesn’t even know and if Heeseung catches a whiff that you know about that thing, he will kill you before you can even attempt to find a key.”
His warning sits like vomit in your throat at the mention of Heeseung, the most mysterious one of them all. You don’t know enough about the cherry-haired doll to debunk whether Sunghoon is joking or not.
You offer him a solemn nod, a silent promise to uphold your end of the bargain. But what he doesn’t know is that as he leaves, you have your fingers crossed behind your back.
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1K notes · View notes
headkiss · 3 months
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hellooo, hope everything's okay with you:) i was thinking of a hotch request, of bau!reader being "his favourite" in the team (in a way that the team can see he has a soft spot for her). maybe the members of the team seeing little interactions between them two and noticing it <33 i just *loved* the one you wrote about hotch helping her in a bau party, and would love to see more of hotch protecting her and being soft with her, during the jobs as well!! thank you so muchhhh, hope you have a good day x
hiii thank u so much baby!!! this has been in my drafts since september i’m so sorry for the delay!! i hope this is okay <3 | 0.6k of fluff
Aaron Hotchner was never one to play favorites. He’s always loved his team, has always felt fond towards its members in one way or another, but none ever seemed to outrank the other.
Until you.
You’d joined the BAU as a temporary replacement, and then, you just stayed. You fit right in, which wasn’t hard to do considering how welcoming everyone had been, but it still felt like the kind of luck that isn’t easy to come by.
Hotch has felt a sort of pull towards you ever since you stepped into the bureau, your shirt a little wrinkled, smile nervous and beautiful. He’s grown to feel for you in a way that doesn’t compare to how he feels towards the others. It’s completely different; incomparable.
Even now, over a year since you’ve joined the team, Hotch can’t help but feel like he has to protect you, has to make sure you’re okay.
The others know it, too.
Derek has taken to doing his very own Hotch impression, a lovestruck version of him, that is. Spencer tells Aaron daily that he should just tell you how he feels. Emily likes to say, ‘you’re going soft, Hotchner.’ And all he can do is fight a smile and shake his head.
Even now, in some town in Indiana, Aaron can’t help but look for you in the busy station. It’s early in the morning, he’s got two cups of coffee in hand. One for him, the other for you.
“Aw, thanks, you shouldn’t have,” Derek says, reaching for one of the coffees.
“You know that’s not for you, Morgan.”
Pretending to be hurt, Derek walks off towards Spencer, a ‘can you believe him?’ look on his face. Hotch vaguely registers Spencer’s voice saying something like, “I believe that’s what they call favoritism.”
Then, the conversation goes quiet for Aaron’s ears, because he sees you. You’ve got a sweater on today, the sleeves long enough that only your fingertips poke out. His feet are walking towards you before his brain processes it.
Before he reaches you, an officer from the station does. “Hey, miss, reporters aren’t allowed inside.”
You take a step back, eyebrows furrowing at the man questioning your presence, “I’m not a reporter. They cleared me at the door.”
“Nice try, sweetheart, I’ve heard it all before-“
“Agent,” Hotch steps in, trying not to squeeze the coffee cups too hard. “Good morning, coffee for you.”
Your gaze softens as soon as it flicks from the officer and over to Hotch. Your fingers brush when you grab the drink from him, sparks shooting up your arm.
“Thank you, Agent Hotchner.”
“Is there a problem here, officer?” Aaron asks, tilting his head.
“No, no, sir. Thank you for coming down and helping out.”
“It’s what we do,” Hotch emphasizes the ‘we,’ like he’s making sure the officer knows that you’re as much a part of this as he is.
The officer nods and walks off, leaving the two of you as alone as you can be in the station.
“Thank you, Aaron,” you say, nudging your elbow against his arm gently. “I totally could’ve handled it, though.”
He smiles because you’re the only one on the team who calls him Aaron. He likes it that way.
“I know, honey.” And he’s the only one who calls you honey. “But I didn’t really feel like explaining why one of my agents punched an officer today.”
“I was not going to punch him!” You laugh, your morning getting better by the second. “Maybe berate him a little. That’s all.”
“Sure it is.”
When you and Aaron walk into the conference room where the rest of the team is waiting, you’re met with the same type of stare from all of them. Knowing, expecting, secretly admiring.
You duck your head and take a sip of your coffee, forever grateful that you joined this team, that you found these people, that Aaron is beside you where you always seem to want him to be.
“They’re hopeless,” Emily whispers to Spencer.
Aaron’s too busy looking at your face to hear.
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vivalarevolution · 4 days
Text
𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓞𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝓸 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓱
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Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen Reader x Cregan Stark
Summary: War emerged from the shadows like an old friend, but apart from the war, there were also matters from the past that created new, unknown and dangerous affairs for her, so sinful and so forbidden. And this time she couldn't escape, getting trapped in between seahorse and a wolf.
A/N: A refreshed version of the story , that I really think is one of the better ones I've ever written. I hope you will like it , enjoy it and find it worth reading.
Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.
The work contains smut, so minors do not interact with it.
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The north was cold, full of ice and snow, and the northern people were even colder. Their eyes gave the shivers, and the low and rough tone of voice made silence the only thing that escaped from the lips of strangers.
But he, Lord of Winterfell, though he seemed to be the same, was the opposite of it all.
Cregan Stark was a wolf in human skin. A man who could bend thousands with just a single glance of his gray irises. He was like fire itself, dangerous and burning under her fingers. He was vicious and wild, devouring her flesh every night, never being satisfied, always wanting more and more until there was nothing left to give.
-Cregan - she moaned into his neck, her nails creating patterns on his back that covered the old ones, not yet healed.
-Feels good, princess? - he purred into her ear, sucking on its lobe, only to kiss it after , feeling her soft skin become covered with goosebumps.
-Oh Cregan - she whimpered, unable to say anything else, repeating his name like a prayer.
The man grabbed her thighs in response, lifting her legs up, letting her ankles rest on his shoulders, gliding his lips over the flesh of her calves, moving his loins deeply and slowly, taking her breath away as she felt the head of his member kissing her cervix again and again ,mixing pain and pleasure together.
-It's so sweet...addictive when you say my name like a prayer - he murmured, lowering his face over hers, rubbing his lips against her full , soft and red, almost swollen ones - It only makes me want to devour you like a hungry wolf and make you mine forever.
-Yes, yes ... only yours - she whispered ,tangling her fingers in the man's brown hair, pulling them again and again, trying to touch his lips, even for a moment - Oh Cregan, please, please! - she moaned directly into his mouth, her lavender irises covered with a robe of crystal tears, threatening to flow out.
-How can I say no to you ,my little dragon? - Cregan asked, moving his hips so brutally and animalistic, contrasting with the controlled movements of his hands that pinned her to the bed, commanding her to take everything, not letting her escape - Take everything I give you, that's right, good girl - he growled like a hungry enraged wolf, making her fall apart before his eyes.
Woman felt as if something had crept into her veins and made her body a shell filled with lust and desire, nothing more. Her muscles went limp, almost non-existent, and her eyes closed embraced in a soothing darkness.
The man's hands were still moving, marking her skin with an electrifying sensation that made her open her eyes, to open her mouth and let his tongue out, to let the wolf prey.
-Cregan - she said quietly so that the only one who could've heard her was the man she mentioned - Kiss me, kiss me again.
Brunet bowed his head, brushing her soft, delicate lips with his, fulfilling her wish.
-You make me a hungry man. Never wanting to stop, never going to stop - he murmured, tasting her again and again, mixing their breaths together.
-No... don't say that - she moaned, feeling his hands on her sensitive breasts, trying to recapture the bit of consciousness that began to ebb away with each movement of his fingers and each kiss of his hot lips.
-That's the truth. I could never lie to you, I can only tell you the truth when I look at you - he panted, attacking her once flawless neck, which was now full of red marks and bites - You have bewitched me, my body and mind and I can't lie. No matter how much you want to hear a lie from my lips.
You have bewitched me. My body and mind.
Those words, she's heard those words before. They echoed in her head, only to sink to the bottom of her stomach, creating a knot so unbearable and painful that she wanted to scream and cry in pain.
-We are enemies...out there, we are enemies to each other - she remarked listlessly, focusing her violet eyes on the snowy window.
-Yet here we're lovers. In my arms you are my beloved, not my enemy - he replied directly to her ear, tenderly kissing the left side of her face.
-When I return to King's Landing and announce the decision of Lord of Winterfell...you will become ... only an enemy - she confessed, after a moment leveling her eyes with him.
Cregan stared intently into her pupils, black as the abyss, drawing him in.
-You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you - the man announced and the woman knew every word was sincere, every blink of his grey eyes ,every breath taken during his confession - So when you come back I'll be on the other side fighting to tear you away from the clutches you were born into but didn't want to live. You will be my lover my princess, never my enemy.
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Days later, their conversation seemed non-existent. However, in truth, she was forgotten and hidden deep in the darkness by a woman who did not want to remember it, preferring to live in the bliss of unconsciousness. But life was cruel and was not about to let Y/n Targaryen rest, stabbing the princess's heart with long thorns of memories that flooded her like a flood as her eyes saw a familiar figure and heard a voice she once adored.
-I came here as a messenger, not a warrior - he announced and the woman didn't even know who these words were addressed to, for what purpose they were uttered but she didn't care, all she wanted to know was whether it was an illusion.
Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.
It seemed to her that he was standing so close to her, even though in truth he was so far away, but his brown eyes still spotted her in the darkness that surrounded her, no matter how much she tried to hide in it , no matter how she was trying to escape him. He caught her anyway ,right under the noses of the old gods.
-Let go of me - she said as his arms wrapped around her, trapping her inside of them.
-What are you doing here Y/n? Why are you here? - he asked, looking at her, his hands tightening on her body as soon as she moved harder than before.
-I'm delivering a message from my brother. Just as you doing with the message from your mother, my sister - she confessed, looking at him.
Jacaerys released her as if her words were burning, but he didn't let her go. Caging her in the form of his eyesight and body that blocked out everything but him, forcing her to focus only on the young man before her.
-Why? - he asked calmly, sounding almost hurt.
-Why? - she repeated his question, not understanding the meaning of his words, not when they were both now standing on opposite sides of the barricade as enemies - We are at war Jacaerys. There is too late to ask questions , too late to think what if.
They both fell quiet abruptly, letting the silence creep in between them, devouring them from the inside out , and none of them said anything, only staring into the eyes of the other.
-I know this war is real but I don't want to believe that in this war you chose your brother... instead of me - he confessed surprisingly quietly, surprisingly coldly.
-What was between us... it was just an illusion we lived in - Y/n replied, feeling the lump in her throat grow as her heart throbs with pain and her veins flood with anger.
-We decided to love each other - said the brunette, getting closer to the girl, more and more - It was a choice, our choice - he whispered, running his fingers along her cheekbone.
-But it was your choice to make me a woman you could love in the dark but never in the light of day. You've made promises to me before, and like a fool, I believed them. I won't be your fool again - she said firmly, pushing his hand away from her face.
-It was never my intention - he confessed quietly, trying to match her gaze, but she ran away every time - I wanted you, only you.
The white-haired woman shook her head, not believing any of his words and not wanting to listen further.
-Yet you swore to marry Baela. In front of my eyes you chose her over me - Y/n gritted her teeth, voice as cold as ice - Where was your love then, where is it now? There's a woman waiting for you, a woman who have feelings for you, and you're chasing the one you can't have.
Instead of answering, Jacaerys unexpectedly pinned her to a tree behind them, his body clinging to her like a puzzle piece, and his own hands wrapped around the hers.
-I'll always choose you - he announced, inches from her face, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.
-Don't say that - she whispered, finally leveling her gaze with him - Don't say that. Don't say that, becasue I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask to be plagued by these feelings.
Y/n felt her heart being torn in half, allowing the memories to creep in. But then she remembered the gray irises that soothed her soul, gave her the longed-for oblivion, the hands that protected her and the voice that put her to sleep in the middle of the night.
And yet, she was no longer able to keep everything Jacaerys had once been to her, who he still was - a lover, a rock, a soulmate.
So she let it all in, let the pain tear her from inside, making her throat burn from how much she was forcing herself not to cry, and her eyes glazed almost like glass.
Brunet wanted to touch her, comfort her, but he let her escape from his embrace, letting her disappear into the depths of Godswood. Unaware that Lord Winterfell had been watching their close interaction, revealing a secret he was never meant to discover.
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The night came quickly, and in the night came coldness that attacked every bone in her body. But the truth was that it wasn't the cold that was causing it but the feelings that hadn't left her for hours, taunting her.
Her lavender-colored eyes stared at the wildly dancing flames that warmed her face, giving it an orange glow, while one hand lazily glided between the fires until the door to her chamber swung open, causing her to be plucked from the ocean of thoughts, returning to the surface ,to the reality.
Cregan watched her like a wild wolf, wild as well as great, towering over the passage, blocking her only escape route.
With a look that said he knew. He knew something.
-The past can be painful - she said, her face was emotionless, but her eyes hid all the secrets that were in her - Love comes and goes like a gust of wind or a wave on the sea. I believe you know it, you loved and you lost... - she noticed reminding him of the woman who once held his heart, now she was its owner.
-We both loved and lost - he said, approaching her agonizingly slowly - And we both found love where we didn't want to look, in the arms of another - he added, kneeling in front of her, cupping her chin with his hand, stroking the smooth skin of her face with his thumb - But you my dragon , you have the opportunity to regain something that was once taken from you. I will never have that opportunity.
She wished meaning behind his words was unknown to her, but when her eyes saw Jacaerys standing by the door, hidden in the shadows just like she had been so long ago, looking at her as intensely, as passionately as he had during their affair, she knew her secret ceased to be a secret and became the truth that came to light.
-What if I don't want to? - she asked, looking straight at her nephew, wanting to see how he would react to her words - What if choosing the past makes me lose you? - she remarked more quietly, shifting her violet eyes to Lord of Winterfell.
Cregan looked at the younger brunet but it was only a moment, as if there was no need to talk between them, as if everything that was happening was planned.
-I saw your pain. I don't want to see it ever again - he announced, stroking the skin on her cheek, but her eyes still expressed uncertainty, hesitation - It's okay to love something you can't explain, it's okay to love us both princess.
-Just say the word - Jacaerys whispered right into her ear, and she turned her face towards him to almost meet his full lips in a kiss, surprised that he was right behind her ,without her knowing.
Y/n felt like she couldn't breathe, like something had crushed her lungs, preventing her from taking a breath, but as soon as she let out the first words, everything let go, the ropes were cut and the walls fell down.
-Never leave me again - she said to the boy before connecting their lips in a deep, longing kiss, tangling her slender fingers in his thick, dark curls.
She could feel the closeness of Cregan on her spine as he slid the white fabric of her nightgown off her shoulders, brushing her hair from her neck to kiss the skin in the hollow of it. His mouth was hot and possessive, completely different from Jacaerys's soft ones.
The northerner's hand slid down her body, engulfing her womanhood hidden behind the thin material of her underwear, making her whimper into her second lover's mouth as Cregan's rough fingers slid between her legs.
Y/n tried to focus on her breathing as two pairs of hands freed her from her clothes, soon to be kneeling naked between them, feeling vulnerable as their gaze devoured her.
-So wet - Lord of Winterfell muttered, playing with her puffy folds, coating his fingers in the juices that spilled from inside of her.
-So sweet , just for us - Jace said, sliding his hand down her neck, resting his lips on her jaw, planting sensual kisses there.
-Just for you ,both of you - she whispered, feeling herself falling into a state of blissful erotic drunkenness.
-You'll gonna feel us for weeks in your little pussy - Cregan added, slipping his finger into her center , rubbing against her bum.
The younger man kissed her again, his hand still on her neck, squeezing it every time she took a breath into her lungs, while the northerner continued to assault flower of her womanhood, making her leak on her inner thighs. Her abdomen burned with lust.
-You'll be good to us, won't you? - Jacaerys panted heavily into her mouth.
Girl nodded, no longer able to find her voice. Her toes curled from how close she was , how close she was to be pushed over the edge, but just as she was about to fall, all movements stopped.
-You won't cum until we say - Cregan said with a trace of malice in his voice, licking her juices from his fingers - You've been hiding your affairs form both of us. You deserve a punishment.
Both men stood up as she sat on her knees, naked before their eyes, letting them savor the sight of her fair skin.
Her attention was focused on Cregan while Rhaenyra's son was busy with his pants.
Her hand slid up and down his erection, squeezing him here and there , while her thumb stroked the vein on the side of his thick member and  the head, smearing his precum to use as lubricant.
-Aren't you forgetting something little dragon? - Lord of Winterfell asked with a low growl, forcing her to turn to Jacaerys. His manhood, erected, pointed directly at her red lips, waiting. Its top shone with a transparent substance and Y/n leaned closer to lick it while her small hand continued to run along Cregan's shaft.
Taking Jace into her mouth, she pressed her tongue against his member as he slid down her throat. His long fingers tangled between her white curls, pulling at the roots just enough to make her whimper softly, and the vibrations traveled through his shaft to his spine, causing his head to drop with a groan.
-Just like that, good girl - Cregan murmured, her stomach jumping at his words and her chest spread with warmth.
Her thumb traced slow, enticing circles around the northern man's head before she slipped the other lover's member out of her mouth, focusing now on the wolf, kissing the tip of his manhood and licking it from the base. She felt his body twitch under her fingers as she swallowed him, running her hand over the part she couldn't reach.
-You're doing so well my love - Jacaerys praised her, pressing her head into Cregan's member until she choked.
When the young woman felt she was no longer controlled by the hand on her head, she pulled away from both men, taking in air into her lungs, panting breathlessly.
-Come on princess, let the wolf get a taste - the older brunette said, reaching out to pull her up and then kiss her as she stood in front of them.
The kiss was messy, wild, making her cheeks covered in saliva and precum.
-On the bed - Jace broke the kiss abruptly, grabbing the nape of her neck to make her look at him, slapping her left asscheek and striking it again as he felt her soft body tremble at his touch.
-Spread your legs, little dragon - Cregan said, standing beside the prince while she lay down on the furs in front of them - Show us what is ours.
Y/n propped her legs up on the bed, opening herself up.
-Play with yourself - sounded the next command and the girl didn't even know who said it, being clouded with desire.
A finger glided up and down her wet and swollen folds with ease, and her body quickly began to tremble as she ran it over her clit, circling the sensitive nub.
-Put those pretty fingers inside your pussy - came the next words, in a low and menacing tone that sounded almost animal-like.
Moving her hand down to her center, she did as she was told. Her hips met the movements of her hand as she moved, trying to find her sweet spot, meowing miserably every time when she failed.
-Faster - Cregan said - Come on, show us how pretty you look when you cum.
Playing with her like this, telling her what to do with her burning womanhood made her cum with tears in her eyes, and a feeling of her legs shake intensely. And before her senses could have return to her, Jacaerys laid down next to her, pulling Y/n against his warm, muscular body for her to wrap her legs around his waist in response, pressing her breasts against his chest as his big member rubbed against her puffy clitoris.
-I need to feel you around me - he murmured, grabbing her hips, rubbing her against his manhood, watching her release drip onto his shaft.
At the thought, the young woman could feel her walls tightening and her heart involuntarily jumping into her throat. And when he entered her, stretching her walls that he almost tearing her apart, it made her moan loudly, burying her face in his neck.
Cregan, however, gave her no time to adjust to her other lover, unable to help himself as her femininity struggled to take the prince all inside her, leaving a ring of white ,creamy substance behind.
Y/n felt the bed sink behind her, and soon the northernman's member entered her wet ,tight canal, leaving her breathless. Mixing pleasure with pain.
-You're doing so well , my good girl - said Lord of Winterfell, kissing her bare shoulder blades, covering them with bites and red marks - You taking us both so good ,aren't you? Your sweet pussy was made for us - his voice, though low and dangerous, trembled here and there as her walls tightened around the two members.
Her face was wet with tears and saliva as they mercilessly pounded her cervix. Their hands were all over her body, holding her in place as they feasted on her body, and all she could do was moan and mewl, taking everything they were giving her.
-She's so drunk on the feeling - Jacaerys said, watching her expression , when his lips weren't attacking her skin.
-It's so easy to break our little dragon - the older brunette added, pushing his hips out, grabbing her bum - But she looks so beautiful when she's broken, making me never want to stop.
Woman felt her body flooded with a wave of hot flames, which made her walls tighten, stopping their movements almost completely, making both of them, unable to stop themselves, and cumming deep inside her, filling her to the full, while a pleasant familiar warmth flooded her lower body, flowing from her after a while, which made her tremble, falling helplessly onto Jacaerys' torso.
The smell of sex filled the air like an intoxicant that possessed their minds that were already clouded with lust.
And so the seahorse and the wolf feasted on the white-haired dragon. Over and over and again , never wanting to stop.
656 notes · View notes
demonicbaby666 · 3 months
Note
Dom Emily prentiss x intern fem reader is all i ask!! Smutty ofc, a lil bit of a humiliation kink if you’re comfortable!!! Thank yewww
Packing Heat
One shot | Criminal Minds Masterlist | Masterlists
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Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Emily Prentiss x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut
Words: 4.8k+
Warnings: 18+, minors DNI, strap-ons (r!receiving), semi-public sex (office sex, again…), praise, degradation, mommy kink, kind of dub-con at one point, top!Emily, bottom!reader
Summary: Interning at the BAU means you don’t interact with the person in charge a lot. Of course, this doesn’t mean you haven’t seen the section chief in passing or exchanged pleasantries; it's that they’re simple, short-lived and often anti-climatic. However one evening, you find yourself in the desolate office with no chance of going home, work to be done, but no one to sit with you through the process. With only one other soul residing on the sixth floor, it seems Emily may be your best bet for company.
A/n: Listen, could she be more dom? Yes. Is there any humiliation? Not really... But I got lost while writing, so please don't be mad at me... Hope you still enjoy!
When you'd first started at the BAU, it was safe to say you hadn't seen much of the woman calling the shots. There were always updates about when the team were taken out of state, what their cases would entail, the steady progress being made, and the brief comical encounters Garcia spewed around the office. When they were back, everyone made an effort to small talk. They welcomed you well and continued to appreciate the little things you did for them daily. Emily, however, was constantly on the go, meaning every encounter you'd had with her consisted of one-way glances and hopeful smiles in the event she decided to notice her surroundings and the human lifeform less than two metres away. 
She never did, though, until one uneventful evening. 
Almost everyone had vacated the building. The only remaining souls left on the sixth floor were you, Emily, and a one-person cleaning crew—whom you watched exit through glass doors before approaching the brunette's office with shaky knees. Peeking through the window, you saw her attention dart to and from the bright computer screen to the mountains of bureaucratic paperwork lying atop her desk. It was easy to get lost in the little creases between her eyebrows, brought out by the deep scowl she wore, the delicate way her fingers were woven together, and the pads of her thumbs skirting against one another as she pondered in deep thought. 
It was nearing eight, and you were struggling to understand how someone could appear so put together at this late hour, given that their day was most certainly jam-packed with non-stop slog. 
Emily's eyes suddenly flashed up. She squinted toward her door, trying to figure out who'd be here this late other than herself. When she appeared to have worked it out, she leaned back victoriously in her chair, a smug smile on her face, when she called out, "Are you going to stand out there all night?" 
You could have done two things: scurried off like a teenager caught peeping or held your chin up high and walked into the older woman's office with little to no shame. Somehow, you managed to do a mix of both, scurrying in with sagging shoulders, a guilty smile plastered on your face and trembling hands clasping your laptop over your chest.
"Well, it's eerily quiet out there, and I would go home to write this paper. It's just that my roommate and her boyfriend have an awful tendency to forget about volume control when they're—" You cut yourself off, realising it probably wasn't appropriate to talk to your boss about your roommate's over-the-top borderline pornographic soundscape. "I was wondering if I could, you know."
Emily, satirising as ever, waited with a raised eyebrow and a relaxed smile for you to continue your purposefully unfinished question. 
"Sorry, I should let you work." You surrendered to your weak resolve with flushed cheeks and began to turn around.
"Sit," she ordered before you had fully turned back around to the door, nodding to the available chair on the other side of her desk. Her eyes followed your journey to the seat, watching as you placed your laptop down and opened it with shaky fingers. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to her work. "I could do with some company." 
The following silence, starting as unsettling and stagnant, blossomed into something warm and comfortable. There were occasional glances thrown your way and vice versa. Their acknowledgement and appreciation were shown in the form of timid smiles on your end and double takes followed by teasing smirks on Emily's. 
When half an hour had passed, your shoulders had finally relaxed, your fingers had stopped their infernal twitching, and your paper neared its completion. There was a proud smile cresting, and you were trying to prevent it from forming, knowing how dorkish it made you look. But you knew there was no hope when your cheeks ached and your jaw locked. You granted yourself the freedom to display your gloating smile. 
Just as expected, Emily had a questioning look on her face when you dared to look up from the document. There was a playfulness to the upward quirk of her lips - the superiority of a predator knowing the power they have over their prey, ready to prove it at any given moment. 
"I've almost finished," you timidly admitted, feeling obligated to explain as heat infiltrated your jutted-out cheeks. 
Without a second thought, the ravenette stood up and made her way around the desk. She could have easily chosen to turn the laptop around. Instead, she took the far more intimate route. 
Soft curves grazed your shoulder blades, causing you to shiver. The weight finally settled, soft padding pressed flat against your back as Emily read your paper, and suddenly, your stomach had worked itself into looping knots, and your heart was racing. 
The struggle continued as you fought not to fidget, if only to alleviate the growing tension mounting between your thighs. This was only made worse when Emily's right hand left the back of your chair to drop down over your shoulder and land comfortably on your thigh. 
"Such a smart girl," she whispered sultrily into the shell of your ear, squeezing generous flesh between her fingers. 
With a scrambled brain, there was little fight to be put up against the meek whimper that crackled against the constricted lining of your throat. Subconsciously, your thighs tensed, and your pussy fluttered as you were reminded how close Emily's hand was to where you could only dream she'd touch. 
You'd thought you imagined it—the subtle shift in the room from breezy and light to torrid and all-consuming, but with Emily's fingers veering off course, inching higher and higher, reality came crashing down. 
"Thank you," you struggled to get the words out, and when they did come out, they were tremulous and feeble. 
Turning to look at her may have, in hindsight, been a mistake because where her gaze should have been fixed on the laptop screen, it was glued to your lips. Unexpectedly, your stomach flipped, and you felt dizzy. She was still superbly perfect up close, skin smooth like silk, cheekbones sharp as a razor, and lips cut from velvet. It was too close, dangerously so, you had to look away. Outside the window, you spotted a swarm of birds barely visible against the night sky. You ignored the clanking of your heart as you focussed on their synchronicity, watching them circle each other until they became one big blur of messy movements. 
The hand resting on the leather backing of your chair rose, skirting up and over your neck, until a firm grip was established around your dangling ponytail. She was gentle when she tugged, aware that though she wanted to educate you in the art of being owned, you were delicate.
"I think a pretty thing like you deserves a reward," she baited. "Don't you?" 
Her grip on you may have been physical. However, a stronger pull was coming from deep within you, an unimportant piece of scrap metal drawn in by a powerful magnet. It was useless to deny her. The mesmerising glow of her chocolate eyes and the promise of being made to feel special was too powerful. So, you nodded slowly but eagerly, desire painting your eyes dark shades of lust. 
"That's a good girl." 
Emily didn't miss how you preened at the praise and safely stored that information away for further use. She shifted to your side, hands migrating to the small of your waist, guiding you to your feet. The act of it was far gentler than you'd expected, like a gentleman asking a maiden to dance, sweeping her off her feet to whisk her away into a fairytale land filled with magic and romance. 
Certain the benign treatment would be short-lived, you granted yourself the leniency to enjoy it whilst it lasted, refusing to get too caught up in the dull ache between your legs that craved the form of savagery Emily displayed in the field. 
There was nothing short of passion in how she worked. It drove you crazy. As wrong as it felt, you couldn't help but envy the dirtbag the team was working to catch because you saw how badly the brunette wanted them. The look in her eyes, gratification and disgust all at once, when she'd achieved what she set out to do and was staring the devil right in the face - it made your heart race, your palms sweat and your cunt throb. 
The memory kickstarted what could only be described as a brutal attack upon the older woman's lips. To her credit, Emily indulged the outburst for a lot longer than you'd have thought. As if she'd expected it, she quickly responded, pulling you into her body and tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss. The lead was stolen promptly from your grasp when Emily wedged a leg between your thighs, backed you up against her desk and tactically slid her tongue into your gaped mouth. You would have gasped if not for the fact you were immediately indulged in the minty taste of your boss's tongue skirting over the roof of your mouth. So much so that you scarcely noticed the pressure coming from your core was no longer just a phantom need manifested but taut clothed muscle pressing you further and further into the sharp wooden edge of the desk. 
"Emily," you breathily moaned, pulling back and separating your kiss-swollen lips from the brunette's. Ordinarily, you wouldn't have allowed what happened next to occur, but this was Emily, after all, the BAU section chief, and if you were to let anyone order you about, it would be her. 
She backed away from you with a final nip to your bottom lip, letting it go with a pop, and you fought the urge to reach out and pull her back to you. You knew you'd already tried to take things into your own hands once, and doing so again may undermine any chances you had of keeping the ball rolling on tonight's affairs. 
You could feel the tight pull of your ponytail and all the places where hair had been lead array from the confines of your hairband, and it truly dawned on you how out of sorts you must have appeared. Tracing your fingers over your lips, you could make out how swollen they were - puffy and hot, yet desperate and pouted, begging for more. Your breathing was laboured, filling the room's silence, and your shirt suddenly felt too tight as your chest expanded with each intake of oxygen. It almost came as a relief when Emily opened her mouth to finally speak until you heard what she'd said.
"Take your clothes off," she mindlessly ordered, walking around to her chair and sitting back in it. Her eager eyes trained over your body with the faintest shimmer of mirth. 
Initially, it was a shock. Of course, it was. You were in an official government building, personnel still sparsely spread throughout, and a goddess of a woman was asking you to bare yourself to her. 
For the longest time, revealing your body to someone always felt like giving up something. Perhaps some kind of purity. The moment you gave it up, it bred only guilt and shame that twisted and pulled at the pit of your stomach until you felt sick. You stood there, waiting for that feeling to come. It never did. 
Remaining still, your body pulsed not with nerves but with exhilaration and anticipation. It took a few seconds to realise this was precisely what you wanted. You wanted to give this false sense of purity away. There was not a sudden influx of courage soaring through every living cell of your body. However, there was enough for you to put on a front and do as you were told. 
"Slowly." Emily sat further back and placed her elbows neatly over the arms of her chair. She laced her fingers together, offered you an encouraging nod, and then was back to watching you raptly.
Feeling like a glutton, you followed a path of desire and heeded Emily's request, fingers increasingly fumbling over each button of your shirt. 
"So obedient." And in no way was it said negatively; the adulatory smile she gave you only sought to prove that further. 
The way she looked at you made you feel as though you were already naked. Maybe that was why it was so easy to get lost in the subtlety of undressing. It was art, and you were a performer. That's what you told yourself. And for the most part, it worked. 
With closed eyes, you trailed your fingers over your shoulders, letting your shirt drop to the floor. The AC raised goosebumps over your chest, pebbled your nipples under your plain bra, and you smiled. You smiled because this was the most alive you had felt in months. The thrill of moving on to your slacks and deftly unclasping your belt felt like being on a rollercoaster, like missing a step and laughing fear in the face afterwards. You felt utterly fearless. 
In the back of your mind, you could sense Emily's eyes still on you. You could hear her moving around but didn't think to check her reaction. You were in your element, and far be it for a look of appraisal, or lack of, to stop you. That was until your trousers hit the carpet with a soft thud, and a sharp breath was heard from across you. 
Your eyes snapped open, and you found Emily's smile was absent. The brunette now had her bottom lip trapped between her teeth as she looked you up and down, knuckles white from her deadly grip over the armrests. 
She lifted a hand, palm facing the ceiling as her index and middle finger crooked. "Come here so I can get a proper look at you," she said, slightly breathless. 
The desk had conveniently covered the lower half of Emily's body, which meant that when you circled around and came to stand next to her, you could see exactly what the earlier ruffling had been about. 
"Is that?" You froze, both shocked and utterly intrigued by the thick black dildo jutting out from the older woman's opened slacks. 
She didn't need you to finish the question, already nodding as she followed your line of sight. Leaning forward with an outstretched arm, Emily coiled her fingers around your wrist and pulled you forward, causing you to almost stumble over your own feet. At this closer distance, you could tell the faux cock would give you a run for your money. It was thicker than anything you had taken before, though that was not a hard trophy to earn, given that the most you had let anyone put inside you was three fingers. 
"Do you want to come sit on mommy's lap?" Emily asked with a tilt of her head. 
She didn't miss how your breath caught in your throat, how you seemed to stop blinking, stop moving, stop existing.
"Are you scared?" the lioness asked, sights set on her prized fawn. 
You shook your head and placed one foot in front of the other, eyes downcast as you took in the size of Emily's additional appendage. The shake of your jaw gave you away. 
"I don't like being lied to," she snapped, eyes dimming to an even darker shade of brown. 
She pulled you in by your waist and sat you on her lap, cock brushing over the thin material of your underwear. Instinctively, you wedged your bottom lip between your teeth to quiet yourself. But Emily wasn't having any of it. Her thumb came to your captive lip, where she helped release it with a soft flick. 
The smooth texture of Emily's cock through your sodden panties was a needed relief. Its head purposefully pressing against your sensitive bundle of nerves evoked a flurry of shivers to run down your spine. And with nothing holding you back, you moaned in gratitude. 
"Feels good, doesn't it?" Emily smirked, watching you rut against her. 
"Yes," you uttered, breath caught in your throat. 
Happy to watch, Emily relaxed her shoulders and leaned back, enjoying the show you were putting on for her. Only when she recognised the tell-tell signs of frustration wash over your features, from your creased brow to the bite of your lip between your teeth, did a sick smirk lick the edges of her lips. With a mischievous glint shining in her eyes, the older woman shifted her position, pointedly ignoring the sound it pulled from you. 
"Something wrong?" she asked with a hitch of one eyebrow, adamant to appear oblivious. 
You gave no reply, only held tight to her shoulders in defiance and continually ground down on her, trying so hard to pleasure yourself to no avail that your eyes began to sting with the emergence of tears. 
With sweat threatening to spill down the side of your face, the tension between your legs starting to ache, and your release nowhere near in sight, you threw your head back with a sigh and whispered a quiet 'please' to the ceiling.
"Please what?" Came the dull reply, tone bored, unamused, unimpressed.  
You tried to impale yourself, failing as strong hands held you down. It was driving you crazy—pleasure being so close yet so far. 
With one hand removed from your hip, Emily gripped your jaw and turned your attention solely to her stern gaze, "Are you going to stop being a brat and tell me what you want?" 
When no answer came, she let go, jerking your head back as if disgusted with the lack of compliance. 
"Get up." 
Ice, you were made of ice. Sat still, shocked, speechless and slightly mortified. 
"Do I need to repeat myself?" Emily's voice was no longer flat; it was not roaring either. Instead, it was layered, resembling the same barbed tone a teacher might use with a disobedient student. It was enough of a motivator to get you to rise to your feet. 
Following you closely, the older woman, too, rose to her full height, hands meticulously reaching behind your back to expertly relieve you of your bra. Never once did she look you in the eye. 
With the same callous approach, you were turned and pressed against the desk, papers sticking to your heated chest. Emily was quick to loop her fingers through the hem of your underwear and slip them down your thighs, allowing gravity to do the rest. 
The full-bodied presence behind you lessened, and you took it as the opportune moment to glance back. 
The brunette had let her trousers drop to the floor, allowing you to see how her porcelain skin was directly contrasted by the black leather of her strap-on. Unlike yourself, she did not appear nervous or afraid. As she kicked the tailored pants aside and met your gaze, you realised how in control she was. 
Her gaze moved down your body, hands running down your back, until finally, she pressed herself against you and lowered her body atop yours. 
"I can feel how wet you are," she teased, running two fingers through the mess between your legs. "Are you always this wet?" 
"Emily, please," you begged. 
"I asked before, please what?" She raked five fingers down your side, moving them back up till they wound tightly in your hair and gripped your neck to an uncomfortable arch. Two fingers pushed inside you but did no more than that, remaining still as stone. "If you're going to be a baby and refuse to tell me what you want, you'll get nothing." 
"Fuck me!" You no longer had the sound of mind to acknowledge shouting something vulgar could attract attention. Logic had evaded you, allowing you to play right into your boss's hands. "Please just fuck me."
Sliding her slick fingers out of you, she proudly stated, "That wasn't hard, was it?"
If the older woman wanted an answer, she did not allow for one. In one fluid motion, she rose from over you and snapped her hips forward, sheathing the entire length of her cock into your cunt. Your breath caught in your throat, resulting in a strained groan tumbling out of your open mouth. The pit of your stomach dropped, and try as you might have not to clench around the toy inside you, you did precisely that. 
It was new, the foreign feeling of being filled so fully that one slight move would summon pleasure that sent shivers through your whole body. It wasn't unwelcome, especially when Emily started to move, and heat engulfed your entire body. Her pace was languid, allowing you to feel each slide of her cock along your slick walls, how each push of her hips ended in the tip hitting the spot within you to cause the furling in your stomach to expand tenfold. It was all you could do not to scream when the push and pull and Emily's hips moved with more purpose, jerking your body into the edge of her desk. 
"I've barely started, and you're already dripping down your thighs." Her voice was laced with mirth, finger smearing your mess as if to prove an unnecessary point that had your cheeks burning up. "How long have you been thinking about this?" Emily finished her question with an arduous thrust. "How many times have you sunk your fingers into your pussy and thought of me?" 
The questions continued, each hitting the nail right on the head. Your cheeks were scorched with the embarrassment that comes with having your desires known and exposed, but it did not take hold of your conscience as the event of falling in front of a large crowd might have. It was comparable to how a blushing maiden may feel when caught by a suitor in only their undergarments. It excited that small part of you that gave in to demoralisation and encouraged you enough to meet Emily halfway as she thrust into you. 
As your pleasure mounted, the need for more grew. Your clit, swollen and needy, begged for relief, and you beckoned to its call, sliding one hand from above your head to the juncture between your legs. It was when the tips of your fingers brushed against your sensitive pearl and you gained the briefest taste of the euphoria that Emily removed her hand from your thigh and snatched your hand away, halting all movement. 
You could have cried, having everything, then nothing, so quickly. 
"Did I say you could do that?" 
Abruptly pulling out, Emily stood tall and proud, staring down at you with curiosity and disappointment lining the brown of her eyes. She heard you whimper and acknowledged your sniffle. 
"There's no need to cry," she tutted, flipping you onto your back and lifting you by your shoulders. "You're going to listen to me from now on." 
You nodded, and she once again lined her cock to your opening, only now she waited, taunting you with possibilities. 
"Beg," she instructed. 
And you heeded. 
"Please. I need you." 
"You can do better." She sounded bored, and this struck a nerve within you, one that begged you to impress her, show her you could be a good little girl, and beg as though your life depended on it. 
You took a heaving breath and looked into Emily's eyes, sporting your best puppy eyes. "I need you. I want you inside me. I want you to fuck me with your big cock, mommy. Make me scream out your name. I need it." 
"There's a good pet," she cooed, mesmerising you with the bating of her lashes as she looked down to where your bodies were so close to touching. 
It all happened in a blur. The next thing you knew, your nails were digging into muscled shoulders, legs wrapping around a slim waist as the brunette filled you, wasting no time in picking up a brutal tempo. You barely recognised the sound of your voice as high-pitched obscenities spilt past your lips. You felt your whole body light up, heard blood pulse in your ears, and saw in real-time just how easy it was to aid Emily in calling upon your impending orgasm. 
Your vulgar mouth, luckily, seemed to amuse Emily enough for her to let you continue rutting your hips against her. The corners of her lips curled, and her smirk lasted only so long for you to see before she inched forward and kissed you with passion and hunger. It was easy, so easy, to melt into the brief moment of intimacy. The butterflies felt tangible, and the sparks crackled in your ears; it felt so fucking good you'd almost forgotten just where you were. Of course, bubbles eventually popped, and this one was demolished by rustling outside Emily's office. 
What little movement Emily allowed, her hands holding you firmly against the desk by your waist, was not enough to wriggle free and glance behind to see what was happening. Instead, the possibility of being caught weighed heavier with each drawled-out second. 
"Emily," You tried but were cut off by a tongue sliding into your mouth. "Emily, stop."
With a bite to your lip, the older woman backed off, confusion marking her features, "What is it?" she punctuated her question with a hard thrust. 
"Someone's o-" another hard thrust. "Someone's outside."
Emily smiled, picking up her pace, forcing you to breathe so deep you felt your lungs expand. 
"You'd better be quiet then." 
Whatever protest you were about to give died in your throat when nails skirted up to your chest and dug painfully into your breast, and Emily pushed herself so deep within you that you felt her hitting your cervix. A strangled cry was briefly heard before you managed to clasp your hand over your lips and silence your own mewls. She was fucking you as if her life depended on getting a reaction out of you that would draw attention. Nevertheless, you held firm and stayed as quiet as your muffled sobs would allow you to be. 
"Emily, please," you were pleading for release and for the brutal fucking stop because you knew there would be no chance you could keep a lid on your volume; there would also be no chance you would survive not cumming. 
Taking note of this, the older woman took the route of giving you your release, dragging a thumb down over your clit and applying the right amount of pressure to have your tense legs turn into a shaky mess of tremors. She didn't stop there; with a brief slide, she ran your slick over your bundle of nerves and started to circle steadily. 
"Fuck!" You screamed out, missing the way the ruffling outside suddenly stopped. "I'm cumming. I'm cumming." 
"That's it," the brunette encouraged, her fingers coming up to crook and tangle through the mussed mess of your hair, nails slowly working against your scalp. "Let everyone hear what a slut you are, letting me fuck you over my desk." 
She didn't stop, though, not when your clit felt raw and your pussy tender, not when you begged and not even when you reached out and tried to grab her wrist. Emily only yanked you down by your hair, relishing the thud the brutal move made. She fucked you harder till stationary fell to the floor from your thrashing arms, and by then, her lips were already wrapped around a nipple, sucking firm whilst you cried through a second orgasm. 
When you finally felt empty, you didn't even try to open your eyes. You knew your vision would be blurred if not blacked out. Instead, you focussed on coming back down to earth, steading your breath and not thinking about how you strangely missed being filled by Emily despite being so fucking sore. 
"Are you still alive?" a smug voice asked from above, and you pried your bleary eyes open to weakly smile. 
"I think so," you whispered, peeling your sweat-slick back from the desk. That was when you remembered the unknown personnel outside and shot a look at the door. 
"They're gone," Emily said, cupping your chin and turning you back to her. Again, you were greeted by that conniving smirk. "After your commentary, I think they understood we didn't want to be disturbed." 
"But-" 
"Uh-uh." she silenced you with a finger to your lips, the smell of yourself still narrowly fragrant. You took the digit into your mouth, patting yourself on the back as you watched Emily's eyes turn dark. "You want to make Mommy feel good now, don't you?" She knew the answer, but oh, how she loved to watch you sink to your knees and eagerly nod anyway. You helped unclasp the straps of her harness, then set to pealing the last barrier keeping you from her heat down her legs. 
"My good little pet," she said, smiling down at you and happily watching you beam. Her hand cupped your jaw before moving to the back of your neck, where she pulled you to her core and began singing a melody of moans. 
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xveenusx · 6 months
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Guilty
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: it didn't matter that she did everything for him. it didn't matter that she loved him. insecurities ruin a great thing, love can't fix these problems
Authors note: angsty angsty angsty, bad JJ
Song rec: grave by tate mccrae
Part 2: Wanted
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Perfect.
Everything had to be perfect. 
The perfect dress. The perfect makeup. The perfect boy. 
The past several days were borderline catastrophic with JJ getting arrested for sinking Topper’s boat. I begged and pleaded with my parents to help me get him out, promising them anything they wanted. They asked for the one thing I couldn’t give them. JJ. 
And yet, I said yes. I said yes because the thought of him sitting in a cell all alone, stuck with nothing but his thoughts made my stomach turn. He’s always thought that nobody needed him. Maybe that was something his drunken father drilled into him but it was far from the truth. I needed him.
Everything had spun out of control and it all started the minute I met JJ Maybank. But I wouldn’t trade it for the world. Being with him was like walking for the first time. Nerve wracking yet exhilarating--freeing.  
My life before him was just that, a life. Everything revolved around being the perfect little daughter to my parents. Debutantes, charity dinners, polo matches, and country clubs filled my schedule to the brim but they were rarely there. My mother was running a successful fashion line, working on her latest release while my father was a shark in the courtroom. While I loved every second of splurging on clothes, lavish trips to Europe, brunch at my favorite restaurant, I was missing something. I always felt like something was missing in a world where I had everything. 
That’s not to say I’m ungrateful for every opportunity my position and family has afforded me. But when you spend enough time with people you realize are only conversing with you for money or to step on you to increase their social capital, nothing seems genuine. 
Everything interaction was superficial and it became isolating. But with JJ, each and every moment we shared was intimate and unfeigned. 
He taught me how to surf the swells he spent hours in daily. I learned the slight touch of hand in the art of being a mild kleptomaniac. After several failed attempts and many loud complaints, I could finally balance on his dirt bike. 
None of these moments could be bought with money and maybe that’s why I cherished them so much. I cherished them so greatly that I refused to let them go.
And in turn, I couldn’t let him go. Despite the ever growing distance that's wedged itself between us the moment he was released from jail. Maybe it was a pride thing, or maybe it could have been the condescending jabs my dad threw his way, but JJ had pulled away. 
My father's threats to revoke the bail money hung heavy above our heads. So tonight, I was going to try and change that. I needed to bridge the gap that had us so far apart. Midsummers was how I was going to achieve that.
Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath and held it for several seconds to calm my racing heart. I open them slowly, dragging my gaze along my reflection on the floor length mirror at the entrance to the club. A silky number drapes my dainty figure in the softest brush of yellow with threaded pearls as straps. Ivory satin Jimmy Choo heels from their latest collection decorated my feet. 
The familiar rumble of a truck had a grin pulling at the corners of my lips. My parents were somewhere in the building, having been on the board and needed to sign off on some last minute details. 
I didn’t mind the constant abandonment. The loneliness that once clung to me had slowly evaporated the moment JJ entered my world. 
Grabbing my Chrsitian Dior clutch, I headed for the entrance of the Island Club. A familiar mass of shaggy blonde hair had my feet moving quicker. The minute his face came into view I knew something was wrong. 
His lips were tight in a grim line as he continuously shook his head. I quickened my steps, apologizing swiftly to several people who were trying to get my attention. 
“I’m sorry, sir. Are you a member here?”
“Well, no, but my girlfriend-.” 
“Then I’m afraid you're going to have to turn back around. This is a private club.”
“Listen dude, my girlfriend invited me and-”
“Sir, you need to get back into your vehicle before I call security.” The coordinator, who went by Ryan, dismissed JJ without a second glance.
JJ’s eyes narrowed. “If you’d let me speak-”
“This is private property.”
“Bro, calm down. You’re not protecting the president.” JJ huffed, shoving his hands into his pocket. His cheeks tinted a slight red which had my blood boiling. 
He was person. Period. One that didn't deserve to be treated like that especially in such a public setting. I was livid at the thought of Ryan managing to make JJ feel embarrassed. 
“You’re not a member-”
“No, but I am.” I snapped coming to a stop beside him, causing the event coordinator to rear his head back in surprise.
“Hey, baby. ” The familiar pull of his voice coated me like the warmest honey. A smirk tugged at his lips at the obvious irritation on my face. 
Pausing to give JJ my attention, I placed a soft kiss on his lips and pushed back a wild strand of blonde hair. “Hi.”
The smile he gave me was like a sudden beam of light that hit me square in the chest. 
“I am so sorry. I didn’t realize he was with you-”
“Add JJ Maybank to my member account,” My words were sharp and left little room for argument, though they were dripping with the sickeningly sweet tone I mastered at the young age of twelve. “Consider yourself up to date.”
“I’ll get it done.” With that, Ryan tipped his head and left quickly. 
I bristled once more, muttering under my breath, ”Dick.” My chest was heavy with guilt at his treatment, wondering if this was actually a good idea. I gnawed at my bottom lip nervously.  
This was not how I wanted our night to start. 
“I’ve never been a member before.”
Not bothering to conceal my giggle, I turned around and allowed my eyes to drift over every inch of JJ. The black suit I bought him was fitted and hugged every muscle in a way that had my stomach clenching. 
Sun kissed hands reached for me the moment I was within his reach. My arms wrap around the mass of lean muscles, my nose buried in his neck. Taking a deep breath, salt and sex wax filled my senses and I let myself relax. 
Home. He felt like home.
“You look very handsome.”
A rumble left his chest. “My sugar mama bought it for me.”
Hiding my face in his chest, a loud laugh slipped past my lips. JJ shushed me almost immediately, “People are looking. We can’t have them thinking we’re together.”
I pulled away, trying to keep a straight face at his antics. “We are together.”
“Shit, we are?” He held out his hand, amusement and mischief dancing in his eyes. “My sugar mama can’t find out or she’ll cut me off.”
How could I not love him when he made me laugh so hard my stomach hurt?
I hit his arm with my purse in mock outrage before taking his hand while his other touched my bare back. The feel of his rough calloused hands from all his hard work has me suck in a breath. Those rough hard hands knew my body intimately, inside and out. 
“Do that again and I’m finding the nearest bathroom.” JJ leaned down, his lips brushing against the top of my ear. 
A clearing of the throat had us both turning our heads. My father stood there with a stoic face, his eyes promising retribution later. 
Looking at my father directly in the eye, I place my arm in the crook of his, lacing us together. 
“I see you brought a friend.” The last word is spoken with clear disdain. 
My grip on JJ’s arm tightened. “I brought my boyfriend.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” 
As if they’d actually be home, I thought but decided to keep that to myself.
Deciding that this entire conversation was pointless, I was dragging JJ away from the pair when my father grabbed JJ, whispering something in his ear.
My stomach shrunk and apprehension filled me as the light look of JJ’s face fell, replaced with a flat look and hardened eyes. 
“Duly noted, sir.” His mouth curled in a sarcastic snark. 
I shot my father a disappointed look. Curling myself into JJ’s side, my arm wrapped around his waist and I tugged us into the party. “Ignore him, please.”
“Already forgotten, princess.”
My eyes watch his face for any sign of distress, but find nothing. Guilt ebbed aways at my walls.
“Let’s go find Mr. Adams. He owns a chain of surf shops. I’m sure if we schmooze him, we can get you a solid job or maybe even a board.” I tossed him a wink that had him grinning. 
“I like the way you think. Lead the way, gorgeous.”
Despite his hand on my back, all the warmth we had a mere moments ago was gone. I couldn’t help but notice the small distance he kept between us. One that didn’t exist until my father opened his mouth. 
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Several hours later, the sun had begun to set and a cool breeze now caressed my bare back. I embraced the cool breeze due to the several glasses of champagne I had. 
Despite my love for the warm buzz it gave me, it did little for my bladder. “I’ll be right back.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “You can’t leave me here with these people.”
I smothered my laugh with my hand. “Did you want to come with me?”
“To the bathroom? Kinky, I’m in.” JJ responded, clutching my hand in his before expertly pulling us through the crowd. 
Nothing could peel off the cheesy smile that bore my face. Despite the slight hiccup at the beginning of the night, JJ charmed most of the members with his charm and humor. I was hoping with some networking, I could help JJ get some security. I believed he was capable of doing just about anything. He had such determination and never let failure keep him down. 
JJ knew how to hussle and I wanted everyone to see his potential, even if at times he didn’t see it himself. 
My heels clicked along the granite floor, our hands swinging in the air. A shriek escaped my lips as JJ twirls me around, my dress swishing around my ankles. “Gorgeous.” He puffed out his cheeks, his gaze boring into mine.
Our matching grins were nothing short of radiant. Being with him was easy in a world filled with difficult people. 
“Well this is disgusting.”
JJ went rigid. That wouldn’t have concerned me if he hadn’t muttered panicked curses under his breath. “If someone says one more thing to me..”
JJ never let Rafe intimidate him before but for some reason JJ seemed a little more hesitant with this exchange. Realization dawned on me. The boat. Fuck. 
I let my hands fall while rolling my eyes and turning to face Rafe. There he stood in all his stuck up glory, not a hair out of place and his suit neatly pressed. He looked every bit of a country member as one could possibly be with the light blue suit paired with a white undershirt and blue bow tie, brown dress shoes on his feet. 
“Don’t you have another line to snort?” I asked.
Sure, Rafe was conventionally attractive, if you didn’t pay attention to the blown pupils and the constant brush of his nose or the foggy look in his eyes. 
JJ snickered beside me, his hand softly tapping my ass twice in support. 
“JJ, go get me a drink.” Rafe cocked his head.
“I’m actually a member here now.” JJ responded, his hand caressed my cheek softly.
Shocked painted Rafe’s face. “That’s not poss-”
Kelce and Topper stood beside him, both in colored pressed suits as well. They kind of looked like the-”You powerpuff girls have fun.” JJ said with a crooked smile and a tip of the hat.
He seized me by the wrist and strode over to the exit. Relief at his plan to avoid a fight was fleeting at Rafe’s next words.
“If I knew a trailer home and food stamps was all it took for you to open your legs, I would have tried a long time ago.”
JJ jerked around in seconds, ripping out of my grip. He stalked towards Rafe, drawing his arm back before connecting with his jaw. 
A shout passed my lips, my hands covering my mouth in horror as JJ struck Rafe twice more, one blow hitting him directly on the nose. Blood began to gush out of Rafe’s nose, staining his dress shirt a deep crimson. “Say that shit again. Say it.”
Rafe let out a mirthless laugh, his lips pulled at the sides revealing his red stained teeth. “Once a pogue, always a pogue. Isn’t that right, JJ?”
Kelce jumped into action, his arm wrapping around JJ’s neck, pulling him off a Rafe into an effective headlock. That’s when I noticed two more hulking figures and suddenly we were surrounded. 
“Five on one, Rafe? Really?” JJ choked out, tugging at Kelce’s arm. 
Without thinking, I walked behind Kelce and slammed the metal clasp of the bag against the side of his head. Once. Twice. Three times. “Let go of him!” 
Kelce let out a yelp and jerked back, causing his grip on JJ to loosen just enough for him to get free. I went towards him in an instant, but he pushed me behind him as he surveyed the remaining men in front of us. 
Whispers dragged my attention from the scene in front of me as I locked eyes with several members who had poked their heads into the locker area. Shit, this really wasn’t good. I needed to get JJ out of here as soon as possible. I didn’t want to give my father any more ammunition against him. 
Clutching his arm, I tugged him once more towards the exit. I could hear more activity outside the locker room which had me pulling at him harder. I wasn’t going to let Rafe make him look bad in front of all these influential people. Over my dead body. 
“People are coming. We have to go.”
His chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his steele blue gaze not leaving Rafe’s.
“I’m serious. For me, JJ, please?” My final plea seemed to have pulled him out of his angry haze. Without wasting a second, he let me pull him further and further away from the group. Lacing his hand in mine, I made quick work of fixing his suit and his hair, pressing soft kisses as I went. 
“Whenever you’re done slumming it, you know where I am.” Rafe called out from behind us, earning us enough leers from fellow members. 
He tore his hand from mine. “Fuck this.” 
Apprehension coursed through me.
I could feel the storm brewing with each step he took. I trailed behind, my small steps nothing to his long strides. Rafe hit a nerve. One that JJ refused to acknowledge and let fester for months now. It was the elephant in the room any time I offered to pay anything at all. It bothered him, all the money my family had.
“Ignore him, Jayj.” I called out from behind him but his steps never faltered. “Rafe was just trying to get a reaction out of you.”
I could hear the soft melody of the music drifting over the wind from the party that was supposed to fix all our problems. Perhaps I was sticking a bandaid on a gaping wound. 
His shoulders were tense as he stopped a couple feet in front of me, shaking his head. Nerves had my stomach in knots. I only had one shot at trying to fix this. Feelings were never JJ’s thing. He spent months fighting our attraction before he finally gave in. Dating a Kook was never something JJ considered. 
Unfortunately, it was something others thought as well because they never failed to remind him. My father included. 
So here we are. JJ was backed into a corner and like any wounded animal, he had two choices. He could concede or attack and I knew JJ like the back of my hand. He would never give up, so instead he’d go for the throat. 
Too bad it was my throat he went for. 
“I understand-” I stopped speaking the moment JJ whipped around, his eyes cutting me deeply.
“You don’t.” I didn’t respond. My eyes lingered on his busted lip and bruised chiseled face. “You don’t understand so please don’t try to make me feel better by pretending that you do.” 
I pursed my lips. JJ was right, I didn’t understand what it was like to be in his position, but that didn’t mean I didn’t care. That I didn’t want to take away every ounce of pain if it meant he would be happy. 
“You’re right. But Jayj, it’s Rafe.” I argued softly, not wanting to draw attention to us. “He always says shit like that to rile you up but you’ve never let it bother you before. Why now?”
JJ’s face flushed. “Because he’s fucking right. That’s why it bothers me.”
My lips wobbled and I pressed them together. I had gone out of my way to ensure he’d never feel this way. I guess I failed. 
I moved closer, my steps unsure and clumsy. “You never said anything.”
My hand rested against his chest, and I could feel the familiar pounding of his heart. 
“That’s nothing new.” He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug.
That did little to ease the emotional storm brewing within me. Every interaction since he was little was nothing short of violent and negligent. 
He wasn’t used to softness and kindness. We were trying to navigate in uncharted waters but we’re thrown off the boat every time the water got choppy. 
“We can go. Let’s just go, baby. Let me just say bye to my parents-“
“Stop.” He demanded, his tone serve. So unlike JJ. 
I dropped my hand and instead chose to focus on the sound of our breathing. I had to keep my head on straight, because I could tell he was already building up his wall so high, making his fortress impenetrable. 
JJ had never had a consistent thing in his life and I’ll be damned if I let that happen to us. 
Squaring my shoulders back, I faced his heated gaze head on. If he wanted an argument, he’d get one, but we’d both be leaving together. 
I had no intention of going anywhere. 
“Stop?” I echoed, raising my brow.
His eyes were as cold and hard as obsidian. “Yes, stop. How is leaving going to solve any of this?” 
“You’re picking a fight with me for no reason. I’m not the one you’re mad at.”
JJ raked his fingers through the sun bleached golden strands causing them to fall along his forehead. “Maybe I am.”
My eyes widened at his words. What had I done? He’d shared every bit of his world with me and I only wanted to do the same. 
Was that not what people do when they’re in love? Aren’t you supposed to share your interests with your partner and aren’t they supposed to want to know them? 
“For what?” 
He tugged at his shirt collar. “Why am I here?”
My brows furrowed in confusion. Why would he even ask that? 
“Why am I here, at this Midsummer's bullshit?” 
“Because I wanted you to be.” I smoothed out my hair to give my trembling hands something to do. “It’s something that matters to me, it’s not bullshit.”
I had spent months planning this party since my parents were on the board. I wanted everything to be perfect for them and for him. It all seemed silly now. A part of that stung deep in my soul. Bullshit was never a word I used to describe any of the interests he showed me, yet he so easily spouted it at me.
JJ stayed quiet but continued to fidget with the silver ring on his finger. I wanted to close the distance between us but didn’t know how. 
“Don’t let Rafe of all people ruin this. His opinion means nothing.” 
He lifted his chin. “It matters to your dad.”
I barely held back my wince. “He doesn’t get a say in who I date, JJ.”
“Oh, are we lying to each other now?”
“W-What do you mean?”
“Are we going to pretend that you don’t care about what your parents think?”
I took a step back as though he hit me. “Stop talking before you say something you’ll regret.”
“Everything you do is to get their attention. You’d die without their approval.”
In a manner of speaking, he was right. My parents barely paid me an ounce of attention and it was hard not to think it had to do with me. There must have been something wrong with me for my parents to not want to spend time with me. I spent the majority of my life trying to live up to their expectations hoping to be the daughter they always wanted, but nothing worked. I couldn’t get them to love me.
And he threw it all in my face.
I stared at him with tears in my eyes, hurt and stricken. 
At the sight of my tears, he looked away with his jaw clenched. 
“Why are you with me?” He hissed, holding out his arms. “It’s not like I can take you to dinner in Paris or buy you the clothes you like so much.”
Insecurity was a cruel thing. It had the power to turn someone as confident and sure as JJ into a puddle of irate nerves. And as his insecurity continued to dig its hooks further into his skin, he continued to rip into me, piece by piece.
“Because I love you. Because you make me laugh.” My voice raised, my hands clenched into fists by my sides. “Where is this coming from?”
Anxiety wound its way up my throat clocking off my air. 
“You’re fucking shoes are four grand. Do you know what I could do with four grand? I could get the power turned on in my house, or better yet, pay for the house.” The look he shot me had me wanting to be six feet under. He’d never looked at me like that before. He made me sound vapid and superficial. Like I didn’t spend most of my time on his side of the island. 
The guilt I felt early came back tenfold. Guilt for my position. Guilt for the money my family had. Guilt for the things I enjoyed buying, both for him and myself. 
Maybe I was just as bad as Rafe. 
Pain sliced my chest as his gaze continued to penetrate me like bullets.
“The other side of the island is starving and everyone here is drinking champagne and gambling a mortgage for fun. It’s disgusting.” JJ began to pace, shaking his head in disbelief. “You had me kissing ass to all these people, and for what? A job? Stop trying to turn me into something that I’m not.”
I wrapped my arms around my waist. “That wasn’t what I was doing. I was trying to open doors for you so you had options. All I wanted was to help give you a fighting chance.”
“I didn’t ask for your help.” The words continued to pelt at me, hitting my heart every time. The pressure in my chest only tightened further.
“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do for the person you love?” My voice shook, matching the trembling of my body. “It never mattered before.”
I'd never been in love before him. I didn't have anything to compare it too since the most affection I get from my parents is a card on my birthday. I thought by doing everything they didn't do for me, supporting and comforting and physical touch, would somehow translate into love.
“Of course it mattered. You’re a fucking Kook.” The raw and angry words seeped into my veins, the audible crack of my heart echoing for all to hear.
My throat constricted. Enough, I couldn’t hear anymore. No, no, no. But JJ seemed to have other plans.
“I mean, I’m standing here in a custom Tom Ford whatever that could have fed me for months. I’m out of my element and it makes my skin fucking crawl. John B is getting sent to CPS and Pope is getting jumped and I’m here at some stupid dinner with the people that did it to him. What does that make me?”
My chest cracked open and my heart caved in. I finally saw the broken boy in front of me. Bruised and broken, completely uncomfortable and unsure of himself. 
“Kiara’s a kook.”
“Kiara’s different and you know that.” It remained unsaid but I knew what he was referring to. Kie was a hippie rich chick who didn’t enjoy all the things I did: designer clothes, luxury dinners, expensive food. In other words, I was a self absorbed kook princess that didn’t care for those around me. 
It didn’t matter that I spent most of the summer with JJ helping him fix homes in the cut. It didn’t matter that I donated to charities or helped send care kits to those on the cut after the hurricane. It didn’t matter that I spent almost all my free time with him and the pogues just as Kiara did. 
To him, I represented everything he hated. It didn’t matter that I loved him so deeply I defied my parents. It didn’t matter that I upended my life and chose to be with him. He could never see past the money, something I had no control over.  
I may have been standing in custom Christian Dior and Jimmy Choo, but I’ve never felt more cheap as JJ continued to cut me down with each word. 
“Do you want me to apologize?” My pulse spiked as a burst of adrenaline had me spouting the truth. “I had just as much a choice of being born on figure eight than you did on the cut.”
He looked at me like he hated me. “I don’t know how we deluded ourselves into thinking this could ever work.”
“You don’t get to stand there and make me feel guilty for who I am. Just because I have money and like nice things, doesn’t make me an asshole. I’ve treated everyone in my life with kindness. Don't group me with them.” 
JJ scoffs, pointing at the crowd on the dance floor. “Them? Them--means your parents, baby”.
“I’ve never treated you less than me.” It was a last ditch effort.
“At least I know what Kook pussy tastes like.” He went for the kill. “Money and daddy issues.”
I stilled. The world stilled. Vicious hurt curled its way into my soul, etching every bit of it until I no longer existed. 
Like I said before, I had no intention of going anywhere. But, I guess to JJ, he always had one foot out the door.
I think I stopped breathing. I blinked at him, hoping cameras would pop out and the whole thing came out as a prank. But, no cameras appeared. 
Just him and I stood, in a field, an arms length apart but a universe away. 
“You don’t mean that.” The words came out strangled. “Take it back.” 
He said nothing. I had to bring a fist to my mouth to try and block out the harsh sob that threatened to escape.
“JJ, please.” I begged, my hands catching his arm. “Let’s just go.”
His normal vibrant eyes regard me coldly, a muscle jumping his jaw. I was drowning in my emotions. Everything had escalated to a level I couldn’t fix, because he wouldn’t let me. The bathroom seemed forever ago in the scheme of things. I can see the battle in his eyes of whether to give into his self destructive behavior or to come back to me. 
Any hope I had of him coming back to me dissolved in a matter of seconds. A security guard came up behind him, gripping JJ by the forearm and tugging us towards the front of the party. My eyes widened in horror as I realized they were going to parade him around in front of everyone which would just humiliate him more.
“Jeez Daryl, could you loosen up your grip,” JJ complained, attempting to jerk out of the large man’s grip. He didn’t so much as flinch at each of JJ’s gripes either.
"What do you think you're doing?" I snapped, "Let him go, Darryl."
Darryl shook his head and gave me an apologetic look. "No can do. Mr. Cameron complained."
JJ Scoffed. “I can let myself out. I have two legs.”
“JJ, please stop.”
“I appreciate the discretion, Daryl.”
He self-destructed right in front of me. JJ grabbed a drink off an unsuspecting member and chugged it down before tossing the glass on the floor.
In the end, JJ was always going to be JJ. I saw the moment he decided to destroy everything we had. It was a slight shift in his body and that penetrating gaze of his hardened into a cruel amusement. JJ shrugged my hand off his, before his eyes flitter across the crowd as though he's looking for someone. Then I watched as they landed on a familiar brunette. 
“Hey, let him go. I’m a member of this club and I invited him.” Kie shouted at Darryl who paused for a brief moment. I could see her parents trying to discreetly get her to stop but Kiara refused. At the sound of her words, an appreciative grin tugged at JJ’s lips.
It didn’t matter that I had said the same thing hours ago. It didn’t matter that I not only defended him but made him a member. I liked shiny flashy things and she didn’t. Apparently, that made her better than me.
“Mandatory power hour at Rixon’s, Kie.” He shouted, pointing at where she stood in front of her parent’s. “Pope, you as well, alright?”
I had a disposition for loving people too much, no matter how they treated me. And for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that I wasn’t presentable. I didn’t care that tears were falling down my face or that my hair was a mess. I didn’t want to be left behind. He promised.
“Let me come-”
Exasperation filled his features. "Take a fucking hint. You can go be with someone like Rafe now. You two deserve each other."
“Alright, Kie c’mon.” He didn’t spare me a second glance. I had to watch as Kie took off running towards him with Pope in tow. JJ held out his arms to catch her, arms she happily jumped into. John B lets out a humored shout while JJ spins Kiara around and they take off.
Leaving me all by myself. My parents nowhere in sight. 
And suddenly everything hit me at once. My dress was too tight, my heels were pinching at the skin on my feet, the music was too loud, my hair was a mess. Nothing I did was right. Once again, I was left alone. Abandoned by the one person I thought would never leave. All because I loved him too much and he hated everything I couldn’t control.
I stood there, feeling like a silly little girl in a silly little dress I spent hours looking for, urging him to look back. He never did. 
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Authors note: I hope I hurt your feelings because I hurt my own writing this :) pls let me know what u think!!! I love hearing from you guys
Tagging my favs: @maybankslover @sipsthecoffee @alyisdead
2K notes · View notes
screeching-bunny · 1 year
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Yandere! Supernatural Harem
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Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’
A/N: This idea was inspired by a Reddit prompt.
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Ever since you were little, you’ve always attracted unwanted attention from supernatural creatures. You were like a magnet, a special enigma that only certain entities were aware of. Werewolves would try to take you to their dens, sirens would always try to lull you towards the sea with their voices, fairies would try to guide you to their forbidden forests. The list could go on and on.
Mythological creatures thought to be made up scary bedtime stories would always line up outside your door. It didn’t matter how old you were. Childhood memories consisted of these monsters trying to kidnap and force an adoption upon you. Teenage/adult years consisted of marriage proposals and courtship. No matter where you were, there was always a stalker up your trail following you.
Having friends was basically impossible. Every interaction you’ve had with another person has always ended up badly for them. Whether they be mutilated beyond recognition or become a seeping liquid you knew better then to go out and make friends. Thankfully, you’re family was never harmed by this ordeal and you moved as far away from them as possible to keep them safe.
Currently, you have a dilemma on your hands and right now it’s because of a certain Naga.
“Do you like my skin?” He asked in a tense voice. As he stands before you with his long serpent tail wagging through the air like a dog.
“It’s very pretty” You knew better than this. You felt like an absolute fool for picking up his shedded skin. Honestly, you should have just ignore it and went on with your day as if nothing was there.
“I’m so happy you think that way. If you like it that much let’s get married and I can give you as much as your pretty little heart desires. I’m so happy I decided to approach you. It took me months of prepping and working my skin to make sure that it shined brightly when it came off”
“It’s happening again,” you thought. Interactions like this happen on a daily basis. It would be strange not to see one marriage proposal a day from these guys. No matter what you did or how much you changed your appearance, these guys would always come back with eyes filled with love. Everyone of those supernatural creatures had their own unique version of courting and expressing their love.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t think I’m ready for marriage”
“You don’t have to be, as long as you come back with me I’ll make sure to treat you right and absolutely worship you. Being in your presence and being the only thing to brace your eyes is enough for me.
“I need some time to think about this, my emotions are still unclear”
“I understand this concern of yours and shall agree to give some time to ponder about this. However, I shall be coming back within a month's time and if you are still unsure I will take you back with me whether you like it or not” The naga states as slithers out of your yard and back into the forest.
The day just started and you were already exhausted. It honestly did not matter if he came back or not because, as said before, at least one supernatural creature was at your side. When he comes back, there would most likely be a bloodthirsty fight between two entities and you were sure as hell not going to get in the way by stopping the fight.
Well, there’s no use in moping around might as well just go back inside to make dinner for yourself. Walking towards your kitchen you go to pick up some food but before you could everything in your house was being knocked over.
“Seriously, again?!” You were honestly getting so sick of this. Your ghost admirer seemed to have barged into your home and was making a mess of it.
“If you’re going to stay here you might as well help me cook dinner” Honestly, the audacity of this man has you appalled. Out of all your obsessive admirers, the ghosts were definitely the most annoying. Every single day they always barge into your home and there’s nothing you can do about it because they can quite literally go through your walls.
“I’ll do it but only if you call me husband” he says lovingly as he starts to make his form appear visible to your eyes.
“Please, husband” And just like that, ingredients start to fly through the air. Hey, I mean who are you to deny free labor. If they're always going to make an appearance in your life might as well just make them useful.
After dinner, you decided to take a long needed bubble bath. Sometimes you wonder what life would be like if you were just a normal and average person. It didn’t really even matter anyways, it’s not like those wishes would ever become a reality.
Moving your way out of the bathroom you start to make your way to bed. As you lay there your eyes begin to droop and sleep begin to succumb to you.
It would have been a peaceful scene had it not been for the vampire staring at you through your window…
Pt.2
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obliviouscxnt · 5 months
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His Shadow pt.2 Azriel x Reader
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a/n: all the feedback from the last fic is insane! I can’t even express the joy all of the comments bring me, the kind words mean so much!!! I'm so happy this concept is liked, I definitely want to explore more with it:)) I hope you enjoy!! <333
1.8k words
synopsis: azriel makes a deal with himself to get his shadows back
Warnings: angst, fluff
pt.1
He’d gotten so used to you being there, so comfortable with the shadows that always surrounded him. 
Now that they were gone—now that you were gone—he was left with an inescapable feeling. Loss. 
It felt like lead in his body. It twisted, and turned, weighing itself down on his ribs. Aching at every little thing he began to notice, the little things you did for him. The things he’d taken for granted. 
He missed the way your darkness covered him like a protective blanket. Missed the ease it brought him. Without it, he felt bare. 
He missed your voice, your whispers. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough he could almost hear it. Almost. He’d never taken the time to memorize it. Never took the time to see beyond what was on the surface. Why hadn’t he? 
How did he disregard you?
You, the first to show him compassion, apart from his own mother. You, who suffered with him in that cold keep, locked away. Unable to grow, to learn, to live. 
You were there for him, with him. 
How could he have overlooked you?
He holds on to your words, the idea that you would answer if he called brought him only a fraction of the comfort you gave him daily. 
You weren’t really gone, he kept telling himself. He’d see you again. 
When it was necessary. 
No longer would you whisper a good morning to him when he woke, or a goodnight when he slept. No longer would you be there, just to be with him. Just to rest on his shoulders, or weave between his fingers. 
He’d used you, like a tool. Like you were just another weapon in his arsenal. 
The pain in his chest swelled, twinging as the image of misery on your breathtaking face invaded his mind. The awful things he’d said, the hateful accusation he’d made. 
You cared so greatly for him, for so long, only to receive cruelty in return. 
How had he ever thought your absence poetic? 
Being away from him was a physical struggle. The need to be there for him, to comfort him, to apologize, and to express your faith in him was undying. You were surprised you’d lasted a full day. 
No matter how he treated you, no matter how much it hurt, he’d always be everything. 
Yet you kept hearing his words. ‘Are you jealous? Is that it?’ Kept seeing that angry glare he’d aimed at you, and how it melted away when you’d taken form. ‘Because I don’t give you enough attention?’
You kept remembering the change in his eyes, in the way he looked at you. Like he’d just then realized you had a mind of your own, that he didn’t have to think for you. 
You’d thought it would make you happy. To have him really see you. 
It didn’t. 
You felt anger and sorrow. Angry you practically had to spell it out for him. Angry the most observant person in the Night Court, if not all of Prythian, had never spared you a second glance. Sad that you had to look like him to get his attention. 
You'd given him every opportunity, you'd shown him your capacity for emotions countless times. He ignored it every single time. No, ignore wasn't right.
Ignorant.
Ignorant was the better word.
Perhaps it was your fault for expecting more of him. 
In the beginning, his neglect hadn’t even mattered. You didn't realize he treated you any differently. That is until you saw him interact with Rhys and Cassian, and then eventually Mor and Amren. 
With them, he was… still distant, closed off in a way. But he smiled, he laughed, he joked. He empathized with them, got angry for them, or sad, or happy. He loved them.
With you, it was just, find me this… bring me here…  go listen to them… keep me hidden… 
He never smiled at you. 
It was your own fault for expecting him to think of you as anything other than a servant. 
That’s what you are, right?
The need to grovel at his feet came back. You felt ridiculous. You lived to serve him. Without him you wouldn’t even have a life. 
You were such a fool, living darkness throwing a fit over some hurt feelings.
He was the only reason you were able to feel anything at all. He gave you meaning. He was your purpose in life, not the other way around. He had no obligation to you, he didn't even have to call on you. The fact that he did was a gift in itself. Just like the pain you felt was a gift.
Without him, you’d just be a regular shadow. 
That should be enough for you. 
So when you heard his call, when you felt that irresistible tug on your soul, you answered. 
You answered though you knew he had no reason for it. He wasn’t in danger, he didn’t want to go anywhere, didn’t need you to spy on anyone or find anything, he was just calling you. 
You answered because no matter what you said, no matter how you felt, he would always be everything. 
Azriel waits for you. Standing in the center of his room, shifting his balance from his right leg to his left. 
He couldn’t keep his hands still, they ran through his hair, adjusted his shirt, got stuffed in his pockets only to leave them a moment later and rub at his neck. His arms cross in an effort to keep them still. 
He was anxious, and restless, and nervous about messing up, but most of all he was angry at himself. 
He wouldn’t be surprised if you ignored his call, even though you said you couldn’t. You’d probably found a way, after all he’s done he wouldn’t blame you. 
It would hurt like hell, but he’d understand. Why would you bother giving him a second chance? 
He’d never even asked you for a name. 
Did you even have one? Do shadows need names? They obviously have a language, one he was able to speak and understand. Did you have a family? A people? Were you born or did you just appear one day? 
These were all things he should’ve known already. Things he should’ve had the mind to be curious about. 
He was too focused on himself and everyone else.
The lights dim, announcing your presence. 
His arms uncross, falling at his sides. You really came. 
Swirls of darkness slip into his room, slowly inching toward him. The way they move is lethargic. It makes him sick.
He speaks when you make it within a foot of him. Pushing past the lump in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 
The shadows stop. Gone was the mighty spymaster. All that remained was the boy who cried out to you on that cold night several centuries ago.
“I’m so sorry.” He repeats. “You don’t have to accept my apology. I don't want you to. I know I haven’t earned it. I just want you to know that If I could go back and change everything I would.” The words were nothing but the truth. He wished more than anything to go back and treat you right. To erase all the hurt he put you through.
His heart jumps when you continue toward him, slithering up his body, encasing him in your energy. 
He feels you curl around his ear, and then he hears your voice. That airy tone reverberating through his head. A sound only he could hear. Only he could appreciate. One he hadn't until he knew what it was like to lose it. 
“I forgive you.”  
Azriel wanted to weep at those words. For you. For him. For what he’d done to the two of you. For what the two of you could’ve been if he’d just sacrificed a little of his time to be with you. Like you always had for him.
“No, you don’t,” He began, “I don’t deserve your forgiveness.” 
The lights flicker, once, twice, then he feels it. Your hand.
His gaze trails down to watch your smokey fingers lace with his. The feeling of your skin touching his had his heart racing for other reasons. Very different from the chill of your shadows.
He lets his hand curl around your own. Squeezing as he went on, hoping you could hear and feel every last drop of his sincerity. “I could apologize to you every day for the rest of our eternal lives and I still wouldn’t deserve it.” 
You step in front of him, meeting his stare. The emotion it held stitched something back together inside of you, something that'd gotten torn apart years ago.
“I will do everything in my power to change that. I promise.” His thumb rubs circles on your hand. “I will spend the rest of my life proving that I am worthy of you. That you chose right.”  He felt his body tingle with each word, the sensation traveling down his arms, his chest, and his back. Ink undoubtedly marking his skin with a visual reminder of the deal he’d just made with himself.
To strive to one day earn your forgiveness. Your loyalty. 
You reach out a hand resting it on his face, so faintly it barely even touched him. Afraid you were overstepping.
He leans into it, covering it with his own, holding it there.
Your mind drifts back to when you met him.
His small voice, crying out for anyone. 
The strength of the Gods couldn’t have kept you from him.  
You didn’t choose wrong. You knew that. It didn't matter if he believed it or not.
“I swear it.” He vows, bringing you back to the present. His hazel eyes so intense, so sure, burning into your own. You couldn't help yourself.  
You kissed him. 
His lips connect with yours and everything stops. Everything fades away until it’s just you and him.  
He knew he’d never stop chasing the feeling it gave him. Something so simple, so easy, like breathing or gravity. Something he couldn’t live without. Not now that he’d had a taste. 
One of his hands land on your waist, pulling you closer. The other leaves your hand to find purchase on the back of your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss. 
It was euphoric, he wanted to get lost in it, in you. 
You pull away when his tongue brushes over your bottom lip, needing a moment to breathe.
Your eyes remain shut for a moment, stuck in that feeling. When you finally pry them open you study his face, taking in every detail, committing every single bit to memory. 
He's breathing heavily, scanning you with a hunger you’ve never seen before. Eyes darting all over your face, repeatedly drifting back to your lips as if he too was struggling with restraint. 
Then he smiles. Pure elation on his beautiful face. 
The sight was divine. 
You copied the action, smiling wide. You didn’t care if it looked or felt unnatural. You were just happy. 
Happy to be his shadow. 
taglist <33: @sidthedollface2 @mischiefmanagers @theravenphoenix26 @leeknows-wife @fxckmiup
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finelinevogue · 8 months
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firsts
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summary - it’s your first date out with harry
pairing - new-boyfriend!harry x reader
word count - ~1.5k
“When you said you had a brilliant idea for a first date, I have to say, this was not what I had in mind.” You said.
Both you and Harry were sat back against the edge of a lake, wrapped in thick coats with a cup of hot chocolate in each of your hands.
Harry and you had been talking for a little over 3 months now, after having met through the internet. He had been watching a video of you on Youtube, since you were a booktuber, and had not stopped smiling since he first laid eyes on you.
It had been a video about your favourite books - something so simple - but Harry could not stop watching the 27 minute long video.
After months of talking you decided it was time to meet up.
“What did you expect?” Harry asked, sat with a good 30cm between you.
“Uhh… I don’t know? Maybe, dinner and drinks?”
“Oh c’mon. You know me better than that. Dinner and drinks? I’m trying to get you to like me, not get bored of me already.” Harry chuckled, his eyes crinkling as they always did when he smiled.
“You don’t have to worry about me learning to like you. I already do.” You nervously smiled, sipping your hot chocolate to hide your big grin.
Harry nudged your shoulder with his lightly.
“Me too.”
“So why are we sitting out in the cold?” You brought your knees up to your chest to conserve body heat.
“People watching.”
“People watching?”
“Mhm. I like watching people go about their daily lives and guess what they’re doing and where they’re going. If there’s a couple it’s even more fun, because you get to guess their love story.”
The way Harry spoke made it seem that he genuinely had a passion for people. If was so refreshing to watch. After so many gross and uncomfortable dates with people that just didn’t understand basic human interaction, this was a nice change.
You sat watching Harry watch people, enjoying the way his eyes loved watching people move around the Earth.
Harry was glancing at an elderly woman when he said, “You’re supposed to be watching them, not me.”
“Sorry.” Your cheeks went hot red and you looked down at the floor. You weren’t ashamed, but you were just so embarrassed that he could make you feel like this and it was only the first time properly meeting him.
“Do I look different in real life? Is that why you’re staring? Have I catfished you?”
You tilted your head to rest against your arms, which were propped on top of your knees, to look at him with a cheeky smile.
“No.” You pulled your lips in to suppress a smile. “The opposite actually.
“Okay and what’s that?”
“You’re too handsome. Y-you catfished me by not telling me just how good looking you are.”
Now it was Harry’s turn to blush. “Aha o-okay.” He nervously giggled.
“It’s true. They all claim you’re the most gorgeous man on the planet, but, well, you really are.”
“Alright, you don’t have to pay me back in compliments just because I bought your hot chocolate.” He rolled his eyes.
“Are you cold Harry? Your cheeks are red.” You teased him.
He just shook his head with a smile.
To make him feel better, and before you ran out of courage to flirt more with him, you leaned forward and gave him a kiss on his red cheek. It was only short and you made sure you left no remanence of your lipstick there, but it was enough for Harry to whip his head around to look at you.
“Was that your apology for teasing me?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Obviously.”
“Rubbish apology.” He tutted.
You scoffed, “Excuse you?”
“If you wanted to give me a real apology, my lips are right here.” He pointed to his lips, like you didn’t know where they were.
You rolled your tongue over your front teeth and shook your head at him. You didn’t give him the stratification of what he wanted though, and instead turned around to go back to people watching.
Harry closed the 30cm gap between you until he was pressed against you. He brought his own knees up to his chest, resting his arms and head on top of his knees.
You tilted your own head sideways to face him, both of you mirroring each other. You stared into each others eyes and without speaking you knew you were having a staring competition.
Harry moved forwards and bumped his noses against yours, making you blink. He moved backwards with a sly smirk.
“You cheated.” You pouted.
“Maybe. I won, though. Think I deserve my prize, don’t you?”
“Hmm. Depends.”
“On what?”
“What the prize is.“
“I’m sure we can come up with something.” He teases.
“No kisses though. I’m saving them.”
“For who?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed and you felt like you were the one winning this time.
Just as you were about to retaliate, someone stars playing the guitar and another person sings through a microphone. The music lights up the entire park area, scaring off some ducks on the lake.
You sit up to see where it’s coming from, noticing a man and a woman performing together. You look at them and instantly notice the love between them, sharing their love for music with all the people here.
Some people start to congregate and start dancing.
You laugh as you watch them, jumping up yourself. You excitedly hold out your hands for Harry to latch on to.
“C’mon.” You urge Harry.
“Who are you saving kisses for?”
“Haarry…”
You walked backwards into the crowd of dancing people.
You kept a watch on Harry as he stays seated in his little spot, watching you.
An old man comes up to you and asks for a dance, to which you accept. He held you like you were dancing in the 50s, rocking back and forth. He was a good dancer for his age and you couldn’t stop laughing as he told you stories from way back when.
After a couple of songs he said he needed to sit down for a bit, so you made your way back over to Harry who was still sat down.
You slowly walked in front of him, before crouching down in front of him. Taking his hands in yours, you kissed them a couple of times. Harry watched you intensely as you worked your words out.
“If you must know… I-.. I haven’t been kissed before so I was nervous. Okay? It’s silly to be nervous over, I know, and you’ve never made me feel uncomfortable. I, um, I just get in my head sometimes and I do really want to kiss y–”
Harry loosened his hands from yours, cupped your cheeks and brought you against his lips all in one move. It was so smooth that you didn’t even realise that he was kissing you until you registered your lips on his.
You moved your lips against his like you knew what you were doing. He guided you and only kissed you softly, not pressuring you to do anything harsh.
He pulled away first, licking his lips from where your lipstick had passed onto him.
“Was… Was that okay? I mean..–.”
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
He kissed you again, moving more this time. He kissed you like every romance book had told you guys kiss. He was gentle, but he was passionate. He kissed you like he was aware this was new to you, but also like he wanted to ruin you for every other person ever.
Your own hands cupped his cheek softly, and Harry slowed down once he felt your touch.
“That…” Harry breathed out heavily. “You…”
“Me?” You let out a breathy laugh.
“Fuck.”
“What?”
“I’m so screwed with you, Y/N. You’re ruining me for anyone else.”
“Is.. is that okay?” You asked nervously.
“I don’t want there to be another person. I don’t want there to be an after you. I know this is our first date, but I feel so much for you Y/N. So, so, much. I don’t think I’m ever going to feel this again and I sure as hell know I’ve never felt it before.”
You kissed him this time.
Lovingly. Passionately. Infinitely.
“Just write me a love song next time.” You joked and he laughed. In Harry’s head, though, he was already writing you those love songs.
“Now. Let’s dance.”
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belovedyandere · 10 months
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Goth reader getting caught smoking by jock end up getting punished
cw. aggression, codependency, controlling, dubcon, edging, sexual themes, yandere themes
It was a daily stress dealing with the interactions between classmates as well as family members. Unnecessary commentary, conversations and overall stares that you had come accustomed to but this day, it had you seething. And what could a normal, frustrated goth do to get through the day? Smoke a good cigarette to ease the pain of daily life.
You tried to light the cigarette that was held between your fingers. You were too engrossed in keeping the fire alight against the wind to notice that your jock had found you. He stomped his way over and grabbed the cigarette, crushing it in his palms before dropping dropped it to the floor, and then stomping on it. You stared at him, unfazed while he gazed back, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed. You ignored his large stature that hovered over you, pulling out another cigarette and proceeded to light the new cigarette only to have this be crushed and stomped on again. You stared at him, daring him to do it again before resuming to grabbing another. The cycle continued until you had finally come to the very last cigarette, you both stared at each other, standing still waiting for the other to move. You glared are him, determined to even inhale one puff before having it taken away unfairly. You turned your back to him, doing your best to swiftly light the cigarette though you were up against a giant who pummelled his opponents in the field with just his body.
You knew it was inevitable, but you still tried. And halfway through of almost having it lit, the jock who towered over you had grabbed the lighter from your hand, smashing it to the floor right before grabbing the cigarette and throwing it on the other side of where you both stood. You groan in frustration, turning to face him, warning him to buy you a new lighter or else you were not going to be acknowledging his existence for the next week. You were about to walk away, but you were pulled back into his arms. “I don’t know if you get a kick out of pissing me off, but how many times have I told you to stop smoking?” He rhetorically asked, his jaw clenching in hopes to hold back saying anything that he knows will have an argument start kicking. You rolled your eyes, annoyed by the way your boyfriend had been babying you. You were well aware of what could occur from smoking, and you took that in stride.
He noticed your indifference to his frustration, that made his insides boil. How could you not care? He cared so much, he didn’t want to see you throw yourself down a road of self-destruction. Call it dramatic, he doesn’t care, it’s a slippery slope from cigarettes to hardcore drugs that deteriorated an individuals body. He couldn’t bare to see that happen to you, he can’t even handle you holding a pack of cigarettes in your hands.
“Are you stressed?” He asked, his face sinking to where your ears were, his lips softly touching against them. Your jock, albeit forgetting at times, knew how to play with your heartstrings. At times force was necessary, but those other times, the soft lover went a long way in having you comply to his wants. “There are other ways to relieve stress, babe.” A whisper in your ear, followed by a peck to your ear and a soft bite to your lobe had you reeling in embarrassment. You were still frustrated with his controlling nature, but a small part of you knew it was out of his love and worry for you. Although you’ve blocked yourself from the world, this person, even in his most annoying moments, you can’t help but feel your heart open to him. Embrace him. You turned to face him, his face inches away from yours now, “Like what?” You snapped back, watching his eyes linger onto your lips. You were met with silence, only his hand reaching to grab your wrist and pull you to the abandoned stairwells on the other side of the building. During breaks, people occasionally would go there but not frequently. And when it was class? Nobody ever lingered there, except for the two of you of course. It was initially your hangout spot, but ever since your boyfriend came into the picture, you were never there without him. Although that wasn’t your choice at times.
“You don’t need to smoke, you’ve got me.” Without a moments notice, he had you pinned against the wall, face to face with each other. “You just need some dick in you, I’ll have you relaxed the fuck out in no time, babe.” He grinned, somehow already having both his and your pants unzipped. His movements were rough and rushed, not allowing you to get a word in, his palm encircling both yours and his dick, sticking them together while pumping them vigorously. You wanted to talk back to him, pettiness getting the best of you but his lips already made it before you could say anything. Biting onto your lips, sucking your tongue, prepping your hole with his other hand– this was his usual manner during a steamy session but this time, it was as though part of his roughness felt too intense, like he had been the one that was stressed and was taking it out on you, the way you would have with that cigarette.
It wasn’t long before you had yourself creaming into his hand, but you were the only one to release. You slid down the wall, sitting on your bottom to catch a short break. Something as simple as being given a handjob wouldn’t have had you wanting to tap out already, but your beloved jock stimulated your whole body. Each sensitive nerve triggered, pleasuring you to the point where you couldn’t stand still anymore. You watched him go down to his knees, muttering how sexy you were while coming in between your legs, pulling you to him to where if his cock was soft, it would have nicely rested against your cheeks. Your legs rested on each of his thighs, and not a moment later did they start to tense once he entered in you. No matter how many times he fucked this hole, he could never get bored of it. And as much as he wanted to have the predicted yet anticipated heavy sex that he blissed out from every time, he saw an opportunity, so he chose to do the exact opposite. Now difference in speed didn’t lower or increase pleasure as much as you would think. The slower he was, the more prominent you felt your walls parting for his thick pulsating girth, the steady movement allowing you to feel the impact of your favourite spot being kissed. However, when sped up, the tip would continuously slam against the spot that had your eyes rolling.
So initially you hadn’t minded his starting speed to be gentle, he on the other hand was excited to see you grow impatient and desperate. To see your nonchalant face flushed and begging for his cock to fuck your brains out. After minutes passed, he noticed you grow restless, squirming and moving your hips to encourage him. You even clenched your hole tighter, and that almost had him snap but he stayed true to his directive. Not long after, did you finally begin to mewl out for him to move faster. He had to stop entirely once he saw you pleading with small please’s, looking up at him with round eyes. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll move fast for you.” The corner of your lips turned upwards ever so slightly, until he said this, “I just need you to promise you’ll quit smoking.” You groaned like a child, punching his chest knowing very well it did very little. “You don’t need to smoke, anytime you’re stressed you can come to me. I want you to depend on me more, that’s not so fucking hard, is it?” Seconds passed by where the two of you only stared at each other, but your stubbornness gave out and you relented. Giving a small nod, but that was enough of an answer since you felt your body almost fly off of the jock’s lap when he plunged hard into you.
You were rendered speechless, his speed leaving you in a state of mushy goo that couldn’t put in the effort to move from all the stimulation that your body felt. Your chin rested on his shoulder, grateful that your boyfriend had the strength of a god, you couldn’t bare to move and he happily did what you didn’t want to do. “Baby, you cummin’?” His hot breath ticking your reddened ear, he felt you nod against his neck and grinned, “Fuck, you’re so hot..”
Seconds passed and you felt the sweet release hit your body like a wave. And all you could feel as you came down from that high was warm, thick strings coat your insides while kisses were being adorned against your ears and neck. “I’ll be your stress reliever, always.” He whispered in between breaths, nudging against you with a satisfied smile.
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prodkatsu · 9 months
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youtuber ⨾ suna
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youtuber!suna who roasts people on his channel, reacts to various things, gives his review on many topics and sometimes shows the mundane things in his life.
youtuber!suna who is a well known content creator and has almost 2 million subscribers.
youtuber!suna has a big fanbase because boys admire him for his attitude and think he's cool while girls love him because he's pretty and well spoken.
fans of youtuber!suna go batshit when they get to know their favourite youtuber is in a relationship. they calm down when they see how happy suna is in his relationship and how nice you are.
youtuber!suna likes to keep his private life aside but he loves it when you support him from behind the camera or accidentally appear on the video.
youtuber!suna keeps the shots of you mindless coming into the room he's recording and asking him about dinner.
youtuber!suna never publicly talks about you but during livestreams on instagram if people ask him about you he'll reply to them.
youtuber!suna makes you sit by the camera where people can't see anything except your shoulder or your legs that are draped over suna's lap while he caresses them.
youtuber!suna who is sharing his views on a topic and he would ask you about your opinion and would listen to them intently.
people know what you look like because of your various accidental and sometimes intentional appearances on youtuber!suna videos.
youtuber!suna would make you watch certain videos with him so you two can react together and cringe and laugh at them.
after gaining a lot of fans youtuber!suna gets more comfortable in showing his relationship and asks you to do more frequent appearances if you're comfortable.
youtuber!suna now lets you take over his youtube channel for a day. you vlog your daily life with him and how you roast the man who loves to roast people.
fans of youtuber!suna makes cute edits of the interactions between you, how he treats you with utmost respect and love, how your eyes light up whenever you're talking to him, the heated gazes and soft kisses before you leave him alone to do the rest of the video. everyone loves you two because you two are just the prettiest and perfect couple out there.
youtuber!suna now talks more freely about his relationship with you and tells everyone how you have been with him since highschool. he shares your memories with his fans and tell them how you've always been his number one fan.
years into the gig youtuber!suna posts a video of him proposing to you. you saying yes to him and him crying while hugging you.
youtuber!suna becoming a household name around the world and everyone is happy for how he has grown. now a father to a twin with a lovely wife who loves him a lot and he loves her too with the same passion as day one.
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© prodkatsu — do not plagiarise, translate or repost my work on any other sites. the characters that i write about are not mine (sadly), they belong to their respective creators.
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adascore · 5 months
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The Missed Swap
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pairing: alexia putellas x england!reader
warnings: swearing. reader receives a push. jealous alexia. mentions of alexia doing her acl.
author's note: finally finished this!! love writing about the complexity of their rivalry!
part 1 | masterlist
•••••••
The press conference room was filled with all sorts of journalists; Spaniards, Brits or just avid women's football researchers who were hyped about the upcoming friendly between Spain and England.
Between Y/N and Alexia rested only a few metres, their respective coaches accompanying them. Sarina and her captain sat composed waiting on the start of the conference, while their opposition exuded a calm confidence that would have intimidated any other pair.
Despite the heartwarming interaction at the Champions League final a month prior, there was no evidence of any kind of friendship as the two star players avoided each other's eyes, and any traces of the camaraderie from Turin seemed distant.
In an attempt to break the ice, Alexia discreetly sought a glance from the striker, hoping for a sign of recognition or acknowledgment, but the Spaniard was only met with a polite smile from Sarina.
The midfielder felt almost stupid for having looked forward to this, seeing her again after Turin. She'd hoped it was the start of a change, one where they could talk to one another without the forced formalities and could even become friends.
Yeah, she felt incredibly stupid.
The moderator signaled the start of the pre-match press conference. ''Good morning, everyone. Welcome to the press conference with Spain coach and captain Jorge Vilda and Alexia Putellas, as well as England coach and captain Sarina Wiegman and Y/N Y/L. We are going to start with the questions.''
The first few minutes were standard; asking about the expectations, main thoughts about the opposition, how they were all feeling about the upcoming European Championships, etc. The four of them answered all the questions directly and in a diplomatic manner.
However, it was a certain Spanish journalist that decided to shake things up. ''Hello, everyone. This question is for Alexia,'' the man spoke up in his native language, ''after the Champions League final, we witnessed, what seemed, an emotional interaction between you and Y/N. Would you say your relationship has changed since then? Or was it just a moment for the camera's? Will it have any impact on the game tomorrow?''
Alexia maintained her diplomatic tone, carefully choosing her words. ''Good morning. The final in Turin was an intense and emotional moment for both of our teams. With Y/N, we share respect for football, the game. Now, we are here to represent our countries in preparation for the Euro's.''
The reporter, undeterred by the captain's media-trained answer, pressed with a sly smile. ''But is there a good relationship between you two? There seemed to have been a connection of some sorts.''
''I understand there might be interest in our personal relationship, but I want to focus on our match tomorrow.'' She answered with poise, not entertaining the controversy he was trying to stir.
Y/N couldn't help but smirk at the journalist's persistence. Despite not understand their language, it was clear Alexia hadn't given him the satisfaction of actually answering his question.
The moderator urged for someone else to take the microphone, quickly wanting to move on before it became more of an issue. The word was then given to an English journalist.
''Hi, for the Daily Mail,'' he greeted them, Y/N having to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of for which news outlet he worked for, ''for Y/N, uh, many of the players of the Spanish team play for Barcelona, and we all saw what happened last month. Do you think their defeat had something to do with your presence or maybe that the rivalry between you and Alexia Putellas was a factor in that?''
Y/N raised an eyebrow at the loaded question, but remained composed. ''Every match is different, and Spain is also different from Barcelona. Football is a team sport, and the outcome of a match depends on a lot of different factors. I don't think it is fair to attribute the result of a match to the presence or absence of a single player. I mean- I'm a footballer, not a witch.'' She concluded her answer with a lighthearted joke, relieved it caused some of the tension in the room to disappear.
''A question for both the coaches,'' the conference moved on again, ''how do each of you feel about another meeting between Alexia and Y/N? They're not just the star players of your teams, but also of women's football. Does it add any excitement or pressure to the match?''
Sarina responded first. ''Well, every match is a great opportunity to have good battles, as a group or as individuals. They're both exceptional talents so it will be a treat to watch for all of us, but the main focus is on the team performance and preparing for the European Championship next month.''
Jorge nodded, seemingly agreeing. ''Individual matchups add excitement, but the success of the team remains a priority.''
The press conference concluded not much later, the four of them alleviated they could get up and leave.
As they exited, Y/N and Alexia found themselves walking side by side, albeit a bit awkwardly. The corridor felt like a neutral ground, free from the scrutiny of the media.
“They're always searching for stuff…” Y/N broke the silence, still somewhat frustrated over the questions about their personal relationship.
Alexia nodded in agreement, her expression reflecting a similar feeling. “Yeah, so stupid.”
The quietness returned, both women unsure of what to say.
“Congrats on winning the league again, by the way.” Alexia rambled, the words leaving her mouth like a speed train.
Y/N smiled, appreciating the attempt to continue the conversation. “Thanks, you too.”
“Thank you.” The midfielder hesitated, a subtle struggle visible on her face.
Alexia sighed, searching for the right words. “Look, about Turin…”
Y/N raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “What about it?”
There was a pause as they walked, the weight of unspoken words hanging in the air.
“I wanted to talk more, you know, after the match.” She admitted, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.
The England captain slowly nodded. “Ah, yeah, it looked like that, but then your coach whisked you away.” She awkwardly laughed.
“I don't know why he did that, it probably felt as weird to me as it did to you,” Alexia responded, “but I just wanted to thank you for your words, cause… you didn't have to come up to me, but you did.”
Y/N smiled warmly. “You really don't have to thank me. I know what it's like as captain, it's tough. It just felt like the right thing to do.”
“What you said about our growth and stuff, it means more than you think, you know, to the team.” The Spaniard quickly added the last bit, not wanting to get too sentimental.
“I'm glad if it brought a bit of comfort to your team. I meant it, you guys have really made a great transition.” Y/N wasn't by any means a great loser, but she would always give a team credit when it's due.
Alexia nodded appreciatively. “Thanks. I'm, uh, excited about tomorrow.”
The England captain grinned, feeling a subtle shift in their dynamic. "Yeah, it should be a good game.''
“Yes, it should. Hopefully it goes my way this time.''
Y/N loudly laughed at Alexia's words, taking the Barcelona midfielder by surprise. ''I didn't know you were this funny, Putellas.''
Alexia chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through.
“Y/N…”
The striker turned back to where the call of her name came from, and she was met with the hesitant face of Sarina.
She gave her coach a hand motion that said ‘I'm right there, let me wrap this up'. The Dutchwoman seemed to understand as she gave both players a nod.
“Uh, I gotta go- team stuff, but I'll see you tomorrow then.” Y/N bid goodbye.
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
Alexia watched her rival leave, eyes roaming over her athletic figure that was adorned in an England training kit that seemed to highlight every curve of her body.
The Spaniard had to shake herself out of her daze, not knowing what came over her.
As she turned to head in the opposite direction, she refocused herself on the game ahead and realized she had to put aside the emotions and complexities that seemed to find her every time she encountered the England captain.
It had already cost her one match, she wouldn't dare let it happen again.
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The score wasn't reflective of how exciting and high-pressing the match actually was. Neither side had scored, but there had been plenty of great chances.
It also included a lot of fouls, specifically on the English captain by the Spanish players.
Y/N found herself on the receiving end of another rough challenge, this time from Carmona.
As the referee's whistle pierced through the stadium, signaling the foul, Y/N couldn't contain her frustration. “Fucking cunt.” She muttered under her breath.
The Real Madrid defender, catching wind of the insult, didn't take it lightly. “What did you say?” She exclaimed, responding with a push.
The striker didn't budge, simply giving her an unimpressed look. “I said you're a fucking cunt.” She repeated her words, not one bit intimidated.
The tension escalated, and the players from both teams rushed to get involved.
More of the Spanish players stepped in to defend the young player, throwing insults at Y/N. While the England players tried to form a protective barrier around their captain, not shy of vulgar words themselves.
Amidst the chaos, Alexia took a step forward, signaling to her Spanish teammates to calm down. “That's enough.” She told Olga, placing herself in-between the Brit and the defender.
“Let it go, it's just a friendly. No need for this.” Her authoritative tone resonated, and she managed to diffuse the situation.
Olga, still visibly upset, reluctantly stepped back, but mumbled some more Spanish swear words that had Patri giving her a light push.
Alexia, with an apologetic look, turned around to address Y/N, but Rachel intervened, pulling her captain away from the aftermath of the chaos.
“We need to take more advantage of the counterattacks, we're just giving everything away.” Rachel immediately focused back on the game, whispering her thoughts.
Y/N caught Alexia's intention, but let it go, redirecting her attention to the unfolding match.
In a retaliatory turn of events, Georgia committed a foul against Alexia.
The England captain didn't want it to escalate the way it had only a few minutes before, so she quickly addressed her teammate.
“G, tone it down!”
The midfielder gave a thumbs up and an apology to Alexia, which the Spaniard accepted.
The final whistle blew, ending the intense encounter with a draw. Both sides were disappointed not to walk away with the win, but the result felt right to the match.
As the players exchanged handshakes and words of sportsmanship, Y/N and Alexia found themselves facing each other once more.
“Good match.” They chorused, shaking hands with a content smile.
“I guess it didn't really go your way this time.” Y/N chuckled, recalling Alexia's words from the day before.
The midfielder laughed, relieved there was no tension between them anymore. “It was tough today. Great defense from your team.”
“Thanks, your attacks warranted it.” The Brit playfully rolled her eyes.
They walked together towards the officials to shake their hands, making small talk about the match.
“Hey… your shirt…” Y/N switched topics, pointing at the red Spain jersey.
“Yeah?” Alexia's eyes widened slightly, almost beaming at the fact that the striker would want to swap shirts.
“My teammate, Katie, she's quite the fan and would you do me a favor and like, ask her to exchange kits? She didn't get to play today and it would really cheer her up.”
A tinge of red colored Alexia's cheeks as she realized her misinterpretation. “Oh, uh, yeah, no problem.”
“You don't have to, if you want to keep the shirt.” Y/N noticed the slight expression change in the opposition's face.
“No, I really want to. I'll ask her, no big deal.” Alexia quickly brushed it off, embarrassed by her own thoughts.
“Thank you so much, it will mean a lot to her. Usually she's a chatterbox, but…” The striker trailed off.
Alexia nodded, finding it a sweet gesture of the rivaling captain.
“Uh, actually, could you do the same? One of the younger girls, Claudia, really looks up to you and would appreciate the shirt.”
The midfielder saw her younger teammate lingering not too far from where they were standing, not subtle in observing the captains' interaction.
“She's the small girl that's standing behind you.” Alexia smiled, laughing as Pina pretended to look at the crowd once she caught her Barcelona teammate watching her.
Y/N followed her eyes and gave Claudia a wave, which the girl shyly returned.
“I‘ll ask as well,” she softly responded, “uh, so I'll see you in the Euro's final then?” Y/N grinned, teasingly.
“Yeah, I'll see you there.”
As they parted ways, each player headed toward the teammate they had promised to exchange shirts with.
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“ALEXIA PUTELLAS TEARS ACL BEFORE WOMEN's EUROS”
Y/N read the headline in utter shock, in disbelief that the Spain captain had tore her ACL in training, the day before the start of the tournament.
“You heard about Putellas?” Jill interrupted her thoughts, joining her in the lounge that had been set up for the team.
“Yeah.” She nodded, closing her phone.
“I feel for her.” The Manchester City player sympathized.
Y/N remained quiet, wondering how Alexia was doing- mentally then.
“Are you two friends?” Jill inquired, confused by the captain's silence.
She looked at her older friend, lifting her shoulders. “I don't know. We're not enemies.”
Intrigued by the cryptic response, Jill couldn't resist probing further. “You guys were laughing with each other after the Spain match.”
“Yeah, and?” Y/N chuckled, uncomfortable by her teammate's stare.
The midfielder raised an eyebrow. “What's the story?”
“There is no story, we just had a laugh.” The captain retorted.
“You used to shut down like a toddler whenever someone mentioned her, and now you're acting like buddies together. What happened, Cap?” Jill was properly confused on what the status was with the two football stars.
“I won, that's what happened.” Y/N opened her phone again, hoping her response was enough to satisfy Jill's curiosity.
The older one frowned. “Won what?”
“I won the final. Champions League. She lost.” It was a vague clarification, they both knew that.
“And that makes you friends?”
Y/N sighed, sensing the skepticism in Jill's tone. “You don't get it, Scott- be glad that you don't.”
“So what if you hadn't won?” Jill asked, a subtle gravity behind her question.
Y/N took a moment before responding, contemplating the hypothetical scenario. “There was no way I would have lost that final. Not in a hundred years.”
“So humble you are.” Her teammate sarcastically commented.
The captain dramatically winked at the older woman.
“But seriously… what is that?” Jill made a gesture with her hand, as if she was physically pointing between her and Alexia.
“Don't know, I guess she isn't as pretentious as I thought she was.” Y/N answered, recognizing the wrong perspective she had of the Spaniard.
Jill raised an eyebrow. “She probably thought the same of you.” She laughed.
“I guess so.” The younger player admitted. “Should I send her a message? Like wishing her well or something?” Y/N asked Jill, holding up her phone.
She looked at the striker's phone, considering the suggestion. “Why not? I can't think of one player who wouldn't be happy to get a message from you.”
“Alright…” Y/N mumbled, opening Instagram and pulling up Alexia's account.
Jill glanced at her screen. “You don't even follow her!” She scoffed.
The captain looked from her screen to Jill, and back to her screen. “Yeah, and?”
“Follow her, and send the message.” The midfielder instructed.
“Are you my boss?” Y/N playfully rolled her eyes, but followed up on Jill's instruction.
| Y/N.Y/L: hey, heard about the injury. hope you're doing alright, and know that a lot of people are behind you. take care ❤️
“Good enough for Miss Scott?” Y/N asked her teammate.
Jill nodded, approvingly. “Look at you, extending an olive branch.'' She teased.
''An olive branch? We never had any problems.'' The younger one frowned, as an olive branch usually meant for there to have been a conflict.
The Manchester City player chuckled at her confusion. ''Well, it's a nice gesture. I'm sure she'll appreciate it.''
Y/N shrugged. ''It's a serious injury, she's at least out for like 8-9 months. I can't imagine her not playing with Spain and Barca.''
Jill nodded, a similar sympathetic look on her face. ''Yeah, I just hope she comes out better of it.''
''She will.'' Y/N said, voice full of confidence.
It was still Alexia. La Reina. She would not be taken down easily.
Meanwhile, freshly arrived in her home country, Alexia finally unlocked her phone after a long and hectic day. A certain notification stood out, it couldn't be could it?
She could feel her heartbeat as she saw the message from Y/N. She hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to open it immediately or not. Alexia edged herself, answering everyone else's messages before getting to the Brit's.
After an eternity, she decided to open and read it as her curiosity got the better of her.
Alexia's eyes softened as she read over the words. Y/N's DM was not something that anyone hadn't told her before, but her rivaling captain had taken the time to wish her well and that meant more than Alexia was ready to admit yet.
| alexiaputellas: hey, I am back home now so doing better! thank you for your words and good luck at the tournament! ❤️
The captain stared at her phone, pondering on how their relationship had changed so much- at least to the point where they were sending messages to one another. Yet, here they were, exchanging words beyond the constraints of the game.
She couldn't deny the intrigue she had towards the striker. The phenomenon that was the England captain was unexplored territory for the Spaniard. Everything she had though before about Y/N all seemed to fade as she got more and more glimpses of who her rival actually was.
As Alexia wondered about the new dynamics, her train of thought was interrupted by a new notification.
| Y/N.Y/L: that's great to her! too bad we can't meet in the final now
The Catalan smiled, her fingers swiftly moving over the screen to compose a reply.
| alexiaputellas: yeah, maybe another time!
| alexiaputellas: if you do play against Spain, I don't want you to win, though 😉
| Y/N.Y/L: ooooohhhh, im gonna play extra harder against them now :)
| Y/N.Y/L: are you coming back to England to watch them?
| alexiaputellas: yes, after I've had my surgery!
| Y/N.Y/L: good luck with that, btw
| alexiaputellas: thank you ☺
The messages continued on for a while, mostly staying on the joking side. Alexia appreciated the unexpected distraction Y/N provided for her, her torn knee having become forgotten for just a few moments.
Their next meeting came 2 weeks later as England took on Spain in the quarterfinals. Y/N was wary about meeting their team still quite early on in the tournament, but it would be a great test for them, and not having Alexia on the pitch could only be a benefit to the English- even if it happened due to unfortunate circumstances.
The match was intense, reminiscent of their friendly match the month before. In the 54th minute, England fell behind, conceding a goal. The pressure only intensified as the entire team and stadium looked at their captain, in serious need of a solution.
Y/N screamed more motivation at her teammates, applauding and praising every pass and chance they made. Fortunately, Ella managed to equalize, and Georgia had everyone going crazy as she put one extra in the net during extra time.
The striker jumped into the young midfielder's arms, yelling inaudible things as they celebrated her world of a goal. ''You're a legend, G!''
''Come on, girls! We can do this!'' Millie exclaimed, clapping her hands to hype everyone up to keep their lead.
''Keep pressuring them! It's in our hands now! You're doing amazing!'' Y/N joined in, her infectious energy working on the team as they all nodded and got back to their spots on the pitch.
The whistle blew and the entire squad could feel a huge weight leaving their shoulders, relieved this tribulation was over and they could focus on the semifinals.
In the post-match rituals, Y/N glanced towards the Spanish team. A bittersweet realization struck her- the victory was nice, but a part of the competition was missing without the direct face-off with the Spanish captain. She almost forgot her colleague would not be on the pitch to shake hands with, or to analyze the match with.
She tried finding her in the crowd, but Alexia must have already made an escape to the locker rooms. The Brit didn't blame her, she probably didn't want to stick around to see a rival team celebrating knocking their team out. 
Half an hour later, Alexia watched Irene stroll into their changing rooms- one of the last players to arrive, holding a white England shirt in her hand.
Her curiosity got the better of her and she approached her fellow captain on the other side of the room. ''Irene, who did you swap with?'' She asked.
Irene grinned, unfolding the jersey as Y/N's name and number was displayed in front of Alexia's eyes. ''Our favorite girl,'' Irene sarcastically said, the England player had caused a lot of damage to both of the women, on club and international level, ''she asked me. You just can't say no to that face, can you?'' The defender chuckled.
A subtle flicker of disbelief crossed Alexia's features as Irene continued chatting about the exchange. The realization that Y/N had chosen to swap shirts with the older woman stung a bit, sparking an unfamiliar emotion in her. Perhaps, it was a fleeting sense of envy for the seeming connection that her and Irene had. The Spaniard had played against the Lyon striker numerous times during her stint at PSG.
Despite her attempt to keep a neutral expression, Alexia's reaction was far from enthusiastic. ''Oh, that's great.'' She replied, her tone a bit more dejected than she had wanted.
Irene noticed the shift in her teammate's demeanor. She raised an eyebrow and shot a look at Alexia. ''Something on your mind?'' She questioned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she sensed there might be more to the midfielder's reaction.
''No, nothing at all. Just… surprised.'' Alexia forced a smile, attempting to downplay the jealousy. However, her eyes betrayed her.
The defender raised an eyebrow, her grin only widening. ''Surprised? Why? We've known each other for a long time, played against her a bunch of times.'' She responded casually, enjoying whatever was happening at the moment.
''Yeah, true. Well, good for you.'' Alexia nodded, trying to mask her unease with a nonchalant tone.
The Barcelona player chuckled, starting to recognize what this might be about. She held up the England shirt, a teasing glint in her own eyes. ''You want it? I still have a Lyon one from a few years ago.'' She playfully extended the jersey towards Alexia.
The midfielder shook her head, again forcing herself to laugh. ''No, no. It's all yours, don't even want it, anyway.'' Alexia waved off the offered shirt with a dismissive gesture.
''Alright, whatever suits you.'' Irene smiled, placing the shirt in her own bag.
She left the blonde alone, walking back to where she had settled before the defender had waltzed into the room.
Alone with her thoughts, Alexia couldn’t shake off the uncomfortable feeling. Watching Irene prance around with Y/N’s shirt left her with a strange mix of emotions that she hadn’t dealt with before, or at least not when it pertained to her teammate and rival.
What puzzled her even more was why Y/N had never asked her for a shirt swap. She wondered if their rivalry and everyone’s comparisons of the two, overshadowed the possibility of something more- whatever that something more was. Did the England captain only see their interactions through the lens of competition?
Alexia grappled with a simple yet difficult question: did she want Y/N to ask for a shirt swap or did it bother her more that she didn’t seem to be considered for one?
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lazyflower48 · 4 months
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Dazai and Ranpo: The Two Geniuses of the ADA
The thought about making a post about Dazai and Ranpo's teamwork has been plaguing my mind for a while now, and so I finally found some time and decided to go through with it.
So let's talk about one of my favourite underrated duos for a moment. The two geniuses of the ADA- Dazai and Ranpo. Two people who make a wonderful team and are actually, in my opinion, the backbone of the agency.
What I find interesting is that (though I believe that Dazai respects and admires all members of the ADA) Dazai openly admires Ranpo A LOT. He's always quick to praise Ranpo (basically fanboying over him and it's quite adorable to see Dazai gush over someone like that other than Oda) and in 'Dazai's Entrance Exam' we see him being surprised over the fact that Ranpo's ability is not actually an ability and we see him further praise Ranpo's intellect after finding that out.
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Despite the fact that Dazai is a huge mystery, even to the people around him, Ranpo figured out that there was something up with Dazai in just a single glance (in 'Dazai's entrance exam'). And despite knowing that Dazai was probably hiding a sinister past, he didn't press him any further for details (probably in order to respect his privacy or his wish to not disclose his past OR maybe due to the the fact that knowing Dazai, he most likely wouldn't answer truthfully even if questioned about it)
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What I also love is that even though both of them are extremely intelligent, their intellect differs in such a way that Ranpo is a master of deduction and Dazai is a master of manipulation (as stated by Kunikida in 'The Daily Routine of the Detective Agency'). However, one thing both of them share in common is that they both felt isolated due to their nature.
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They may have limited interactions but their interactions are always my favourite, for instance-
1. Dazai's entrance exam - Dazai's admiration and respect towards Ranpo
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2. Season 1 - Murder on D-Street - Dazai showing a good understanding of Ranpo's deduction process and acknowledging that Ranpo caught onto more details than him
3. Season 2 - "Mountains or sea?" " Sea. "
Showing their unspoken communication. They can read each other's minds at this point lol.
4. Season 3 - Ranpo basically acknowledging that Dazai would be a tough opponent to go up against by comparing Fyodor to him (sort of praising his intellect in a way)
5. Season 5 - The Strongest Man in the Agency- Ranpo
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Dazai keeping an eye on Fyodor while leaving the rest to Ranpo
Dazai relying on his allies- trusting Ranpo to negotiate with Bram in order to undo the vampire curse.
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6. Dead Apple - Ranpo seeing through Dazai's plan beforehand.
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7. 55 minutes - Seeing through upcoming events beforehand, one thing Dazai made sure was to inform Ranpo about the whole fiasco on Standard Island in order to save the Agency in the end.
Also, sidenote: I found out that the Dazai and Ranpo duo is named Souheki, which translates to double jade. Now, I'm not sure if this information is fanon or canon (feels more like fanon tbh but I really like it because it's a pretty name)
Anyway, one thing we can say for sure is that as long as the two geniuses of the Agency- Souheki work together, the ADA will most likely remain undefeated cause no one really does it like them
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Lastly, just some food for thought. I've always wondered how Dazai would react if he found out that Ranpo met Oda TWICE and the second time he met him was right before Oda went on to his certain death.
Honestly, I would LOVE to see more fleshed out and direct interactions between these two.
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bunicate · 3 months
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rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !
adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.
you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.
she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention. 
you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.
she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times. 
she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.
you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.
it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.
adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.
although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.
she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival. 
“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.
like routine, she’d bow.
“well then. goodnight master diluc.”
she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber. 
he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.
a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night. 
the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.
your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.
she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.
touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.
her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth. 
adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister. 
a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.
carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member. 
adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.
he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.
adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.
the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.
the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.
the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.
she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.
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yaksha-lover · 9 months
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cw: yandere, stalking, imprisonment
Malleus is locked in the castle - a mild territory dispute nearby, but his grandmother insisted he stay inside for the duration - when he sees you for the first time.
When you’ve spent as long as he has staring out the tall stained glass windows of his chambers, you learn to recognize the faces which roam your garden.
You are new.
He doesn’t think too much about you at first. Your novelty is the only thing that stands out to him; he doesn’t even think to ask Lilia where you’ve come from. Surely, you will be gone soon enough and his inquiry will have been pointless. Time proves him wrong.
Over the next few days, Malleus finds time between his magic and history lessons to watch you wander across the greenery. Perhaps you wouldn’t put in it such terms, you are working after all, but the fae can’t help but see it in that light.
He’s jealous, in a way. Perhaps that’s why you’ve captured his attention. He’s the one with wings, and yet, you are more free than he will ever be.
His grandmother- all his ancestors would surely scoff if they knew the heir to the Draconia kingdom was jealous of a human gardener.
That’s another thing he’s noticed from watching you. You’re human.
If your features weren’t enough to give it away, he’d also overheard Sebek complaining to Lilia about having more humans around the castle. His guardian had replied something about this being the exact reason he’d hired you, and then Lilia walked too far away for Malleus to hear any more of his explanation.
Even once he’s allowed to travel beyond the stifling stone walls of the castle, Malleus chooses not to approach you. It’s become part of his daily routine to watch you go about your caretaking of the bushes and the flowers; he would loathe to disrupt your genuine behaviour by making it known someone was watching you.
His eyes search for you as soon as he peers out his window. It’s second nature, an unconscious habit that’s begun to take hold in him.
As he watches you tend to the roses, Malleus can’t help but wonder how you would look dressed in an expensive silk of the same dashing red instead of your usual brown corduroy uniform. He’s sure you’ve never even dreamed of wearing fabric so expensive.
He thinks it would suit you. You might not have the look of the typical nobles he interacts with, but he certainly believes you have your own charm.
That’s another reason he’s become…interested in you. You’re so far removed from his own world, from any of them who sing his praises or whisper worries behind his back.
Of course you must know of him, but Malleus doesn’t know what you think of him. That, in of itself, is tantalizing and terrifying.
Malleus watches you until the sun sets upon the grounds and you’re forced to retire to your lodging at the corner of the property.
He falls asleep wondering what you dream about.
This habit of his goes on longer than it probably should. Although time doesn’t mean much to him, Malleus knows a couple months would be a significant amount of time to a human.
What would you think if you knew the crown prince was watching you day after day? Would you be flattered? Afraid?
Part of him knows it’s not right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to pull himself away from the window.
He feels as though he knows you.
He knows that tulips are your favourite by the way you take your time when trimming the stems, going much slower than he knows you’re capable of just to spend a little longer taking in their smell.
He knows your favourite foods, having watched what you bring for lunch. On the days his grandmother is too busy to dine with him, he prefers to take his food in his chambers, so that he can eat with you.
He knows that you love to read, your breaks spent sat by yourself with a novel instead of with the other staff. He finds himself reading alongside you sometimes, picking up the same book he noticed you had with you. It’s almost as though you’re truly doing it together.
It’s during one of these breaks that Malleus notices someone talking to you, interrupting your reading.
A blond man kneels down beside you, clearly trying to start a conversation with you. You smile politely as you look up at him from your place under the tree, book face-down on your thigh.
You’re too far for even his superior hearing to catch your words.
He doesn’t miss your giggle at the man’s chatter.
Malleus lets go of the document he’s holding. He’s accidentally crushed it in his grip.
-
You and the other staff have been on edge since Edric got fired. It seemed so random - one day, he was managing the grounds and chatting with you about your novel, and the next he was gone.
The crown always had a good reputation as an employer - it was one of the many things that drew you to the castle. There was gossip about Edric after he left, rumours about things he’d done to deserve getting fired. You didn’t want to believe it; he was the only one kind enough to try and befriend you after the others had all but shunned you for being human.
He hadn’t even said goodbye.
There was nothing much you could do but continue your work as usual.
A couple days later, one of the castle guards approaches the garden while you’re working. Everyone pauses their tasks with held breath as the man walks past everyone and stops in front of you.
You can feel the stares of your fellow staff burrowing into your back; you’re next and they know it. Despite the fact that they’re probably happy to finally get rid of you, you catch a glimmer of sympathy in some of their eyes.
Silver has been friendly in passing before, but this time his face is serious as he speaks to you: “Please come with me, MC. The crown requests your presence.”
The walk is long and tortuous - you’re no longer afraid of being fired, more like getting struck down by lightning. You trust Silver, but you know his kindness ends where his duty begins.
You’re not taken to the throne room or in front of the queen like you expect.
You’re taken to the chambers of the prince.
Malleus Draconia sits cross-legged at the head of the wooden table in his room. There’s two steaming teacups, one sitting in front of him and the other at the opposite end of the table.
You’ve seen glimpses of him here and there around the kingdom, but this is the first time you’ve been able to take a good look at him. His presence is more intimidating than you’d even imagined, his tall stature and broad shoulders making him seem imposing even if you didn’t know his magical capabilities.
He smiles when he sees you, but his expression looks wrong. It makes something in your gut twist.
You don’t smile back.
“Thank you, Silver,” he says, his tone steady and revealing nothing. “Please, leave us.”
You want to beg him to stay, but he nods at his prince and does as he’s told, shutting the door and trapping you in.
Malleus motions for you to sit at the single empty chair.
“Please,” he says. “I’ve had them brew some tea for us to share.”
“…Thanks.”
“Do you like the centrepiece? I picked it out just for you.”
A glass vase full of fresh cut pink tulips sits in the centre of the table, on top of a dainty, white lace place mat.
“Yes…thank you.”
“I’m glad to hear.” He leans slightly forward across the table. “I want to make you happy, MC.”
“No offence, your majesty-”
“No need to be formal with me, my dear.” He continues to smile. The grin unsettles you further; as though he’s attempting to lull you into a false sense of safety, just waiting to sink his teeth into you.
“Why am I here? Why did you…set all of this up?”
“You’re here because you’re my beloved. I’ve watched you for months, you know.” Your stomach drops. “I wanted to stay away, to leave you be. I know now I was wrong. I should’ve brought you here much, much sooner, my love.”
“Watched? What do you mean? Why-” Your voice rises as you become more panicked.
The thorny vines growing around your wrists and tying you to the chair stop you from standing up.
You never even noticed them begin to bloom.
“Shh, there’s no need to have a tantrum. It’s all okay, MC. I know you will need time, but soon you’ll fall for me, as I have you. We belong together.” He stands from his chair, walking over to your side and placing his hand on your forearm as he kneels beside you.
“Please let me go,” you whisper, wetness pouring down your cheeks, despite how you try to hold in your tears.
His expression darkens as his grip on your wrist tightens to a level of discomfort. “We all have a role to play in the kingdom. It’s treasonous to not play yours.” He tilts up your chin to face him. “You wouldn’t want anyone else to end up like that little friend of yours, would you?”
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