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#yes i changed one word on purpose
notmoreflippingelves · 7 months
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It's dawned on me suddenly
And for no obvious reason
That I can't go on
Living as I am.
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deadsetobsessions · 8 months
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Damian Wayne was like a duckling. A violent, stab-happy, danger-prone duckling, yes, but a duckling all the same. Which means when Danny almost got stabbed by a sleepy, instinct driven Damian, he was able to wave it off with a laugh. Damian, on the other hand, stared in horror at the butter knife firmly lodged in Danny’s arm.
“PENNYWORTH!” Danny jerked back at Damian’s scream. “RICHARD! FATHER!”
God damn, the kid had a pair of lungs on him. Danny’s wince was interpreted as pain to Damian, who gently grabbed his injured arm and started to pull him towards the kitchen’s marble island.
Danny blinked, non plussed as his hearing picked up a thundering of feet as the present family members scrambled towards Damian’s distress call.
“Wait, Damian, I’m fine. It’s-”
“You have been impaled, you imbecile! Had it been any of the other simpletons, they would have-!”
“Ouch.” Danny put his other hand in mock hurt over his slow-beating heart. He literally doesn’t care about the butter knife. He’s just impressed there was enough force in there to impale him. “Are you calling me names now? After- gasp- stabbing me?”
Before Damian could reply, the beginnings of regret, remorse, and guilt on his face, Alfred, Dick, and Bruce burst into the kitchen.
“What happened?!”
“My word, master Danny!”
“What is it?!”
“I’m fine. It’s like a small stab. Not even a big stab. I’m good.”
Dick paled, seeing Danny’s arm clutched in Damian’s hand.
“That’s- that’s a knife. In your arm. How is that ‘fine’?!”
“What happened.” Bruce asked Damian, gently removing Danny’s arm from Damian’s death clutch.
“I- I did not mean to,” Damian starts, guilt coloring his voice.
“He didn’t,” Danny cuts in. “I startled him and got stabbed for being dumb. I won’t fault him for having a defense mechanism like that, ancient knows what I might do if you guys startled me.”
The awkward silence that settled at his words made Danny twitch awkwardly.
“Uh, so, can I add this knife to my collection? Even if I didn’t get mugged?”
“Danny.”
“Bruce.” Danny stared stubbornly back. With his uninsured hand, he patted Damian on the head. He was going to enjoy the fluffiness before Damian’s guilt was no longer enough to hold him back from snapping at Danny’s hand like a grumpy alligator. Bruce loses, obviously. He’s a teenager who was also an ex-vigilante. Batman’s got nothing on a determined halfa.
“Master Danny, I must insist you refrain from getting stabbed. There is only so much gauze and antiseptic cream in the house.” Alfred returned- huh, when did he leave?- with a med kit.
Danny called bullshit because he knows there’s a whole ass medical bay beneath the manor.
“Sorry.”
“No need to apologize.” Alfred said, promptly beginning the extraction of the butter knife.
“Are you okay?” Dick asked, hovering worriedly. “He- are you…?”
Damian was allowing Danny to ruffle his hair, so…
“Yep, I’m good. This isn’t even on my top thirty most painful stabbings,” and it really wasn’t. That honor was given to the GIW and that one time Jazz accidentally stabbed him with her earrings. “That was pretty impressive, actually. It’s like, a butter knife. The other ones had pointy ends.”
“Do not clump me with those pathetic wastes of spaces. I am naturally superior and would… would never harm you on purpose.” Damian said, getting quiet at the end like he was trying to plead to Danny to believe him.
“Of course not. But- if you want help me keep the knife, you can hit me with a mug, it would technically be a mugging.”
The pun got the desired effect. Damian leaned away with a disgruntled look and Dick stopped hovering as close in order to let out a small cackle.
“Done.”
“You should go get changed, kiddo. We’re going to see Tim’s photography at the Gotham Gallery today.”
“Oh, for real?” Danny patted Damian’s fluffy hair one last time, pushing away from the counter. “Oh, I’ll clean up here first and-”
“That will not be necessary,” Alfred scolded, a mop somehow already in his hands. “Please see to it you are prepared for the day.”
“Thanks, Alfred. Can I keep the knife.”
“Very well.”
“Sweet. See you guys later?” Danny pranced off after seeing the nods.
——
“He’s… he got stabbed a lot. Before us, I mean.” Dick tapped a furious rhythm onto the counter. “Not that we’ve stabbed him until now but even once is concerning for a civilian.”
“He was used to it.” Bruce replied.
“Perhaps we should join Todd in his endeavor and ensure that his worthless tormentors are permanently out of the picture.”
“God, he said top thirty. He was counting.”
Damian silently withdrew a kitchen knife.
“No murder with my quality chef’s knives, Master Damian.”
“Tt.”
“Master Jason follows the same rules. Now, out of the kitchen. I may be old, but I remember the last time master Bruce and master Dick stepped foot in here and I will not have a repeat.”
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seresinhangmanjake · 3 months
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His
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader
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Summary: You used to be a Lady, a daughter of a Great House until Feyd took you. Since then, your sole purpose has been to warm his bed, but when Rabban asks about having you for himself, Feyd makes a choice that changes your future.
Words: 2600
Notes: Possessiveness. Grumpy Feyd. I know it's similar to another one of my fics, but I realized that after the fact, so...
Feyd-Rautha Masterlist
You didn’t sleep. Not a wink. You laid in his bed all night, waiting for the man who never came, and your heart didn’t cease its ferocious beats for a second. Where is he? Why isn’t he here? Is he ok? What happened? The sun rises without answers to those questions. 
You shoot up in bed when the door eases open. Expecting to find him, you’re disappointed to see instead his harpies enter one after the other. They don’t look at you. One goes about riffling through your dresses in the closet, one heads into the bathroom and you suddenly hear a rush of water filling the tub, and the last of them goes to the vanity Feyd brought in for you, lining up makeup and hair pins that she intends to use on you. 
The air about them is poised—an echo of who they used to be before they were turned into pets—as, for the moment, their vile, more carnivorous side lies dormant. 
Feyd only allows them to near you a couple hours after they’ve been fed; the peak time between their hunger sated and their bellies rumbling. At any other time, your uniquely foreign scent wafts to their nostrils and they are incapable of holding themselves back. More than a handful of instances—when they’ve managed to manipulate the guards to open their cages with their seductive smiles—they’ve gone on the hunt for you; one time in particular, sneaking into the bedroom in the middle of the night and yanking you from Feyd’s arms with the intention of sinking their teeth into your flesh. Feyd had been so furious he’d cut a finger from each of their hands. 
Still, they don’t scare you. You see in them women not entirely unlike yourself: owned, and therefore, changed. Soft are the women who have had the luxury of marriage and child-rearing in the comforts of wealth and beautiful homes—and good for them; how lovely to be soft—but it is the women who have not a choice in their existence that develop a steel shell. And you and the harpies have steel shells. In that way, they are your kin, and you try to subtly express that when you can, even though their allegiance to Feyd can make that quite difficult.
“Where is he?” you ask. 
They ignore you, continuing with their tasks, and you huff. Yes, sometimes they refuse to speak with you, and always it seems when you need their words most. In the past, you’ve been tempted to dangle your arm in front of their sharpened fangs in the hope that the offering will encourage their cooperation, but you’ve yet to find the bravery for that. Plus, Feyd would lose his mind. Well, he would lose the rest of it. 
“You’ve spoken to me before,” you continue. “Why not now?”
One of them stops and faces you. She glances at her sister who shakes her head. 
“Tell me,” you plead. 
“We are not permitted to speak with you on the matter,” the other says to your frustration. That is not good enough. Regardless of how he sees you and how you feel, he is the one thing keeping you alive on this lifeless planet and you refuse to go about your days worrying over his safety and what his disappearance means for your fate.
You throw the sheets off your legs and stand. 
“I don’t care,” you spit as your silky nightgown falls at your ankles, but then you reconsider your tone. The harpies do not do well with aggression. Being so animalistic, their instincts are easily drawn out, and they tend to attack when attacked, which is not a fight you would win. 
You take a calming breath, placing a hand over your heart. “We are the same. He owns us, he clothes us, he feeds us,” you remind them. “On this planet, I am as much your sister as you are each other’s. We all care about him in a way and if I knew what happened to him, I would have the decency to tell you.”
The harpy who drew your bath returns to the bedroom. Having overheard your words, she crosses her arms and says, “With respect, my Lady, we are not your sisters,” she says. “We have never had him the way you have, and he does not feel for us the way he does you.” 
Your clenched jaw loosens, lips parting. If you had assumed anything about the relationship between Feyd-Rautha and his harpies, it was that they had once been where you are; that when you came along, they lost their rank and became something alike the handmaids from your home world. You’d assumed that when they warmed his bed, their handmaids were the women who entertained him before them, and so on like a disgusting, perverted pattern. But if that is not the case, then your sense of identity is even more confused. Not to mention, nary a soul has referred to you as ‘Lady’ since you were taken from your family. So why show that respect now when Feyd practically stripped you of the title months ago? 
You look to the only one of the three who seems unsure of the situation. She’s biting her lip, worrying the fabric of your unworn gown between her fingers. 
“What about you?” you ask her and her head lifts to meet your eyes. She’s the smallest of them—pixie-esque, like you read in fairytale stories as a child—and despite the core of their primal nature, the gentlest. “You want to tell me.”
The harpy by your vanity hisses, but the gentle one does not shy away at the warning. “She has been kind to us,” she tells her sister in the most self-assured tone you’ve ever heard leave her mouth. 
The sister snaps back. “He instructed us to do one thing: get her ready for the day and act like nothing is wrong. It was not to tell her what happened.”
You lightly gasp. “So something has happened,” you state, feeling your heartbeat quicken. Your chest begins to rise and fall to match the rapid rate. “Is he ok?”
There are a few seconds of silent pause before Pixie stands a little straighter, setting her shoulders in a strong line. “Our Lord na-Baron was answering for the death of his brother.”
Your head jerks back. “Rabban?” you question, your brow pinching. “Rabban is dead?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“And Feyd is the one who killed him?” That doesn’t make any sense. While Feyd has complained enough for you to know Rabban is a bumbling idiot, he eventually found a way for his brother to serve a purpose. Why would he kill a man when he is no longer the nuisance he once was, you wonder, so you ask, “Why?”
“The Lord Rabban…made suggestions,” Pixie tells you. One of the harpies groans as the other shakes her head.
“What suggestions?”
She bites down and swallows hard, then she says, “He suggested that the na-Baron share you for his own pleasure.”
Instantly, you’re hit with a wave of nausea. Share? Share you? The concept of a foreign woman hopping between men of status is not unusual, but at this point, you assumed if Feyd were going to participate in something like that, he would have sent you off already. Not doing so didn’t even surprise you. He’s too possessive. 
“You said he was answering for Rabban’s death,” you say, but answering for that surely wouldn’t have taken so many hours, not when the Baron saw Rabban as a waste of space. “So where is he now?”
He doesn’t notice when you step into the training room and you’re thankful for that. You came on a mission to extract more answers out of him, but you don’t mind having a second to admire him sparing against his trainer. 
He’s sweaty. You like him sweaty—sweaty and bare-chested and perfectly, effortlessly mesmerizing as aggressive grunts leave his lips. You silently watch their violent dance, your form mouse-like by the door until his trainer looks up and halts to stare at you. Feyd whips around to follow his line of sight, then he sighs and turns back to the smaller man. He mutters something as he grabs the rag at his belt and runs it down his face. 
The trainer leaves and Feyd places his knife back on the table among many others. “I told them to keep you away today,” he says dully, monotone, not meeting your eyes as he runs his finger over the blade and fiddles with the hilt. “Incompetent brats.” 
“You didn’t come to bed.”
“I was busy,” he responds without letting a beat pass. He continues to avoid your stare and mess with the knives as if he’s never wielded them before.
You slowly step down the stairs into the pit of the room. “Busy killing your brother?” you ask. The muscles in his back twitch and flex under pale skin as he grips the hilt harder. 
“That is none of your concern.” The distance between you lessens until you’re a foot from his back, but he doesn’t turn around. 
“Even though you killed him because of me?” you ask. His neck ticks and his head tilts and shifts to adjust to the tension. When he still doesn’t respond, you try another angle. “Why are your harpies referring to me as their ‘Lady’?”
That seems to do it. Feyd faces you, crosses his arms, and leans his lower back against the table. “You think spending one night without me gives you permission to be nosy?”
You don’t give in to his method of shutting you up by aiming to make you feel silly and guilty. Instead, your eyes narrow and you mirror the crossing of arms. “Why am I a Lady again?”   
“You just are.”  
“Are you sending me home?”
His eyes flash. Blue irises darken a shade. “Don’t be stupid.”
“So I’m a Lady on Giedi Prime?” you ask, dropping your chin to emphasize how ridiculous that sounds. 
The edge of Feyd’s jaw sharpens as he clenches his back teeth. “Stop asking questions.”
“Then answer one,” you say. 
It’s a shot taken by an untrained hand, as he doesn’t enjoy demands, especially not from you, but you figure you have nothing to lose in the attempt, so you don’t cower under his menacing glare. You wait. And much to your surprise, he surrenders. 
He blinks, and when his eyes open, they have softened ever so slightly. Then he says, “You’re marrying me,” and everything from your lungs to your limbs freezes in shock. 
“W–What?” you stutter. That makes less sense than Rabban’s sudden death. 
Feyd groans and stands straight, his arms falling at his sides. “See what being nosy gets you?” he snaps. “I wasn’t going to tell you immediately, and you had to go and ruin it.”
He grabs a fresh knife and stomps his way over to a dummy, ready to attack something other than you for the insecurity that he can’t completely contain. You’ve never witnessed him insecure, but you know the feeling when you see it—the defense mechanism, the distancing himself, the grumbly attitude. 
“I’m not sure I understand,” you press as he slashes and stabs at the soulless victim. “I’m marrying you because you killed your brother for wanting to fuck me?”
With a grunt, the dummy’s head severs from its torso and flies off in your direction. It rolls and rolls and stops just before hitting your feet. The dead eyes stare up at you in silent amusement. Now you’ve done it, they mock.
“I don’t ever want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, do you understand me?” Feyd growls.
Your eyes shoot to his. “The marrying you part or The your brother fucking me part?”
He tosses the knife aside. It clatters against the ground as he closes in on you. His hand wraps around your neck. “Don't test me,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I will sew your damn lips shut if I have to.”
An empty threat if you’ve ever heard one. He would never harm you, but even if he were going to try, his fingers would need to be squeezing much tighter.
You roll your eyes. “Well then how am I going to suck your cock?”
Something about the tease stuns him. His tense features immediately settle and his whole body eases with his exhale. Glancing at your lips, he licks his own, and you think he might decide to kiss you—after all, it’s been a good twenty-four hours since the last one—but he doesn’t.
You snort. “Didn’t think that one through, did you.”
Long fingers unwrap from around your neck. “You’re not funny,” he mumbles with an odd sense of shame.
“If you don’t find me entertaining, can you maybe take the time to explain all of this better?”   
Feyd considers keeping his mouth shut. You know him well enough to know that. However, it’s ridiculous to contemplate since he’s already spilled the bigger news. Nothing could be more shocking than you, after the bed-warming position you’ve held for months, becoming his wife. 
“My uncle was going to take you away from me for killing Rabban,” he finally says. “So I told him I've had plans to marry you for the alliance and that's why I refused to share you. Rabban wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he had to die.”
Raising a brow, you say, “The Baron accepted that explanation? My House may be one of the Greats, but we do not offer much for Giedi Prime.”
Feyd shrugs. “My uncle enjoys anything that causes upset. Marrying me means we will always own something very valuable to your family.”
It would likely offend another, but you don’t mind being owned. While the Baron may believe the Harkonnens as a whole will own you, you belong to Feyd and Feyd alone. He’ll never allow anyone to hurt you and now he’ll never have to fight or argue with anyone to stake his claim, which works for you just fine, to say the very least. 
“Thank you,” you say.
“For what?”
Your head tilts as you smile. “Caring enough to protect me.”
“Don't flatter yourself,” he says. “I didn't do it for you, I did it for my own benefit.”
Your sweet smile morphs into a smirk. “The benefit being that you get to keep me all to yourself…for the rest of your life.”
With a scoff, Feyd rolls his eyes and crosses his arms again. “Whatever.”
“Feyd…” you sigh, leaning into him.
“What?” he returns in his snarky tone as if he doesn’t want you near, but he doesn’t step out of the bubble of your space.
“I'm happy.”
A pink tinge sneaks onto his pale skin, and he quickly looks away. And before he has a chance to come up with some witty remark to smack you with, you grab his face and press your lips to his. 
You hold on to him until he starts to kiss you back, and then he's reaching for you, pulling you close, wrapping his arms around you, and you know you won't be going anywhere for a good long while.
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plutoasteroids · 5 months
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PAC How Will Your Future Spouse View You
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Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3
DISCLAIMER THIS IS A GENERAL READING TAKE WHAT RESONATES AND LEAVE WHAT DOESN'T.
Strictly for entertainment purposes.
PILE 1
So, before I get into the tarot bit of the reading the overall vibe I am getting is that you and your future spouse will be that couple that are still doing cute stuff together even in old age. You know those older couples you see on TikTok on dates still happy and very much in love, yeah like that. One word I can use to describe it is cozy, just very warm and affectionate basically feeling like this person is your home. It's going to be like 'I'd rather come home to you then be anywhere else'.
On to the tarot bit, Your FS sees you as someone very confident and optimistic (even if you don't see yourself that way). They see you as being positive and very wholesome. Again, before I pulled cards I channelled and I still got the warmth.
Oh my gosh, if any of you have read The Song of Achilles that's basically it. Before anyone points out to me they were a same sex couple .Yes, I know but I am talking about the relationship dynamic between Patroclus and Achilles.
You may have gone through a difficult time in your life and your future spouse will admire how strong and resilient you are, how you're able to adapt to challenges and changes in environment. You may be the type of person who is connected to both their divine feminine and masculine and they truly find that attractive.
They certainly view you as their other half and I know its cliche to say soulmate but that's all your future spouse is saying. You just give them so much happiness and emotional fulfilment.
'They are my home, my soulmate, my forever'
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PILE 2
Ugh Pile 2 your spouse will literally worship you😩. Like you'll tell them your insecurities and they'll just sit there kissing every scar, mark, dimple anything you're insecure about they'll adore. If you're a female or a feminine reading this and you have thick thighs I heard them say 'Come here and crush my skull with those sexy thighs'. Whoever you are you have someone's poor child down horrendous for you.
I think they may be the type to just watch your social media whether you are getting to know each other, dating, engaged or married your social media pages, pictures and videos will always be on their phone screen and they won't go to sleep without listening to a little voice message you sent. Once they get attached baby there's absolutely no getting rid of them, I heard 'You'll have an easier time getting rid of bed bugs'.
When you meet them, they may be a party animal or a player.
Disclaimer it's not toxic obsession more like they will let you be your own person but at the end of the day they are yours and you are theirs, you are their spouse, and they are your spouse and they will forever put you on a pedestal not to the open where they will neglect themselves.
They see you as a prize (again not in a creepy way) You may have options when you meet this person but best believe they'll make sure to stand out and win you over. They see you as the best the world has to offer in terms of what a wife/husband/spouse should be. Your person may have had a few letdowns when it came to love and just know that they see you as a dream come true and again, I know that's very cliche but trust me when Isay they view having you as a spouse as their biggest accomplishment and they want you to know that they'll prove to you every day they are worthy to call themselves your spouse. They feel like you have gone through a period of depression and sadness, and they want you to know that they acknowledge it and they see you as strong every day.
The couple I channelled for you guys is Queen Charlotte and King George from Bridgerton.
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PILE 3
First thing I heard 'Sugar Daddy'. This person will spoil you but love you even more. Yes, they may have money and give you gifts but this person truly does love you, care about you and respect you.
They may be older than you that's why people may think that they are your glucose guardian which is not technically wrong and not technically correct either. I feel like that will be a long term joke you two have about them being your sucrose supplier..
They will definitely view you as delicate, I want to say that they are the protective type but not protective to the point of you feeling suffocated by them. They want you to be comfortable and have what you like 'If my spouse wants that watch I'll get it for them'.
They will view you as fun loving, yet you have this air of power to you that they love. Sure, they view you as delicate and they want to protect you, but they also view you as strong and beyond capable of taking care of yourself and those around you basically your spouse is saying 'they want me, but they don't need me'. They know that you can walk away from them anytime and they like that you're always in your power no matter what.
Your spouse admires how you don't need them to feel whole or for financial gain they see you as a breath of fresh air, a change of pace, an adventure.
He may touch you a lot with your consent obviously, like a hand on your waist, shoulder or they may steal little quick kisses. Also, there may be a lot of friendly banter in the relationship.
The couple I channel for you guys is Fallon and Liam from Dynasty.
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chlorinecake · 4 months
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Thoughts on stalker x stalker??
— 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 | 𝐬.𝐣𝐲
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▹ PAIRING: stalker ex bf ! jake x stalker ex gf ! reader
▹ SUMMARY: You and Jake, exes torn apart, developed a mutual obsession with each other overtime, the lingering romance coming to light with a simple flash of his camera…
▹ WARNINGS: BIG DICK JAKE who records a lil sextape of him fingering you because he's a helpless titty fixated perv, unprotected sex (cowgirl), some crying, a brief handjob and fingering session, kinda angsty
▹ WORD COUNT: 3.5k
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“Do you really see better with those glasses on?”
Jake's chocolate brown eyes peeked at you through his specs, a gentle hum rumbling from his throat before answering.
“No. I mostly wear them for the art student aesthetic I’m going for… now don't smile, pretty.”
Snap.
You let the small smile on your face relax at his instructions. “And the other reason?” You pressed, watching as he angled the lens a little higher over you this time.
“Hm, dunno... maybe because cute girls always ask about them?”
You hated it whenever he talked about other girls—
Snap.
Another click of his camera sounded throughout the quiet studio, it’s white flashes lighting up the dim room.
“So you like the attention then?” You teased, watching as his facial expression remained nonchalant.
Focused.
“Your attention? Yes,” he admitted, narrowing his eyes behind the camera. “Might be one of my favorite things, actually…”
Snap.
Good answer Jakey, you thought to yourself, trying your best to keep a neutral facial expression before him.
“One of your favorites just like old cameras, apparently...” you went on… “How come you never use the new one I bought you for your birthday last year?”
“Because,” Jake answered while lining his eyes up with the camera lens, “this one is much easier for me to carry around... I like that it’s portable...”
Why would he need a camera on the go, you asked yourself silently… even though, the reality was that Jake had actually dropped the other camera while following you one night—
Snap.
“Jeez, how many more shots do you need, Peter Parker?”
“You'll know when I'm finished,” the dark eyed boy replied with a foreign rasp to his tone, index finger gently squeezing into the camera button as he continued. “Now stick your tongue out for me.”
“I'm sorry?”
Snap.
His unusual sentence really caught you off guard this time, a feeling of chills washing over you as he took his lower lip into his teeth.
“Beautiful,” he said almost breathlessly, “just try following my directions next time though, yeah?”
“Jake, I need a break...” You sighed, changing your position on the couch as his vision remained glued behind the camera.
“In a minute, ____…”
Snap.
He used your first name on purpose because you used his, and he knew you were the type of girl who didn’t like that very much.
“I said that’s enough, alright?”
You slightly raised your voice at him, his demeanor remaining just as calm as before once a prolonged sigh escaped his throat.
“I suppose five minutes of wasted time wouldn’t hurt,” he said sarcastically, placing his red camera on the stool beside him before extending a hand, helping you off the couch.
“Thanks,” you replied half-heartedly, grabbing the large white sheet from the couch arm and wrapping it around your naked body.
“I could never get tired of this honestly,” Jake confessed, watching you intently as you poured yourself a cup of water from the nearby cooler.
“Tired of what?” You asked in between your first sip, his eyes being all over you except your face as you spoke.
“Looking at you,” was all he said for you to roll your eyes at his words, making him chuckle at your reaction.
“I’m serious, y’know that?”
“Mhm… I can tell,” you smirked with a nod, taking the last sip of your water before making your way back over to plop on the couch. “How about you go over your pictures… you’ll never know if we caught the perfect one already if you don’t check…”
He didn’t verbally respond to your suggestion, only nodding in agreement as he reached for the camera, clicking through its film.
To no one’s surprise, Jake, who doubled as your pervy ex-boyfriend and personal neighborhood stalker, felt himself getting hot all over again just from looking at the pictures of you displayed on the grainy screen.
Today's excuse to photograph you? He needed a nude model for his chiaroscuro themed visual project at the fancy art university he attended.
You knew Jake would’ve a hard time finding any other female (or male) to willingly get naked for him, so you obliged… under the small condition that he wouldn’t try to fuck you afterwards.
Simply put, your infatuation with him always made it easier to agree to whatever stupid favors he needed you to do—
“God,” he groaned under his breath, taking a seat as an attempt to hide the boner slowly growing behind his pants.
“Damn, are they really that bad?” You asked with worried brows, misinterpreting his reaction.
“N-no, not at all,” he corrected, eyes still glued to the camera screen.
“Oh... well… okay then,” you sighed with relief, or maybe it was a yawn?
The studio AC was set to such a low temperature that you couldn't help but feel a little sleepy... especially with how mundane this whole model process was getting to be.
“Can I see the pictures?” You asked, making Jake's eyes widen slightly at your request. He knew it'd be suspicious to say no so he instead gave in, reluctantly handing you the camera.
Clicking the left arrow on the circular directional button, the gallery scrolled, picture after picture, with each slide shocking you with how good they came out.
“Lovely, aren't you?” Jake nearly whispered from behind you as he leaned over the couch, his hands pulling your hair out of the tussled bun he previously styled it in for the first part of the photoshoot.
For the next series of shots, he planned to go for a more natural look, taking your hair down to let it hang as the scent of your shampoo ignited him all over again.
Jake couldn’t stop himself from grinding his hard-on against the back of the couch, eager for any sort of friction that would ease the tension building up inside him.
You felt the teeth of the comb meet your scalp as he continued to comb, the simple act somehow making it even harder for him to control himself.
“You're really talented at this,” you said, just before your eyes glazed over the series of pictures following the one's he'd just taken of you.
Some were from recent trips you took to the supermarket, events you don't fully remember, and even a few scandalous shots of you through your apartment window, changing out of your work clothes—
“Thanks, but I prefer giving credit to the actual person I'm shooting,” he added, looking over your shoulder as you turned the camera off, just before he got a chance to see what you were looking at.
Though, from the almost immediate shift in the studio's aura, Jake had developed a pretty good inkling in his chest as to what you might've seen.
Your throat tensed up, chest expanding slightly with each exhale as a smile grew on Jake's face.
“Just let me know if I'm being too rough, alright?” He started, sectioning out your bangs as his hand slid around your neck, gently cradling your chin upward.
“Jake,” you choked out weakly, a shaky moan slipping past your lips as the comb got caught in a particular knot in your hair, “t-take your time, please...”
You stuttered, hoping in your heart that he wouldn't make a big deal about it.
In truth, you often watched Jake from afar yourself, not being able to get over your obsession with him, even months after you two first broke up…
Your eyes had a way of chasing stolen moments—the curve of his lips as he sipped coffee on his way to class, or the way his personal style slowly changed from denim coats and Timberland's to leather jackets and black boots.
You saw it all, seeking after it as often as you could… using it as a means to coax your own lonely desire for him.
Still, you couldn't quite shake how strange it was to see his gallery filled with images of you from every angle and emotion, even though it eventually delighted you to know that he wasn't as interested in other people as he let on—
“I'm in no rush, ____,” he said plainly, trying to redirect the energy in the room, “just relax for me... I'm not trying to hurt you...”
He chose his words wisely, releasing his hold from around your neck before making his way over to the wall where he dimmed the lights even more.
“I know, Jake,” you nearly whispered, wind flowing from the slightly opened windows as your voice flew with its gust…
“But how long have you been watching me?”
His wrists froze at your question, a mix of relief, guilt, and fear rising within every part of his body.
You turned your gaze towards him, eyes locking to reveal a mirror reflecting your similarly twisted desires, the tension screaming with ambivalence…
“Since we broke up...” He confessed, eerily loud footsteps sending shivers down your spine as he paced against the wooden floor, walking towards you, “does that bother you, love?”
You stammered at first, gentle grasp clinging to the white sheet around you. “It doesn't, Jake... not at all,” you finally mustered, watching as he licked his lips because God, he was such an anxious perv for you...
The way you looked before him in this moment, both fear and recognition present in your features as your body remained still as stone, every natural highlight of your skin looking even more gorgeous beneath the dim lights.
This entire moment was all too much for him… You were too much for him…
Slowly creeping towards you, his intense energy did nothing but make your arms sprout with tiny bumps all over.
“Good,” was all he said at first, trying to digest your body language while freeing himself from his jacket, “but I'm guessing there's something you might wanna come clean about, too, hm?”
“I… yes,” you admitted, somehow regaining your initial confidence, “since you wanna hear me say it so badly... I haven't exactly been able to get over you, either...”
He smirked at your honesty, “How bad has it gotten? The withdrawal, I mean... d'you ever think about me when you touch yourself?”
“Cute, but no...,” you scoffed, “I prefer hands-free fantasizing instead... less mess for me to clean up alone,” you smiled teasingly, tracing the arch of his jawline with your index finger.
It almost felt foreign when you did that just then...
You hadn't touched him like that in months... and even though the act was ordinary, it made you feel something intense—
“I need to take a few more shots of you like this,” he said randomly, reaching for his camera but not sitting on the opposite couch this time.
He stayed right in front of you, joining you on the couch and slightly caging you beneath his frame.
“Trying a new angle I see... these gonna be for your project or—”
“I'm gonna keep these for myself,” he interrupted, snaking his free hand beneath the sheet and lightly caressing the flesh of your thigh before kneading it, dangerously close to your core. “Just make sure you follow my instructions like I asked...”
You nodded at his words, letting your lower body relax as he gently guided your legs open, the sheet falling from over you boobs and exposing them to the air as he grazed your pussy lips with his fingers.
Jake nearly drooled at the sight of your hard nipples, clicking with his tongue to make you look back at the camera. “Start by squeezing your tits together for me,” he started in a low voice, “wanna see how well they’d suffocate my dick…”
The poor guy was still very much hard right now, and it didn't help him one bit with how wet you felt against his fingers, his skilled touch circling your clit as a feathery moan left your lips.
“C’mon pretty, do as I say…” Jake cooed, pointing the camera to you as you did just that, arching your back over the sofa arm while squeezing your tits together, his fingers quickening against your sensitive bud as he kept recording.
You're not sure what came over you just then, but you were starting to feel more than willing to do whatever Jake asked of you, especially when his fingers worked on teasing your initial tightness.
His digits curved against your g-spot, the pressure he applied only escalating as his stiff cock started leaking in his pants.
This entire moment felt strangely nostalgic, reminding you of the many times Jake would stand over while making you cream with just his fingers—
“Tell me when you're close, baby… beg for me to let you come,” he huffed, voice sounding somewhat labored as he intently watched your chest heave up and down, biting his lower lip to stop himself from kissing you.
Because as badly as he wanted to taste you, he had to capture your bliss on camera first, for the nights that memories become too vague... for the nights when fantasies don't compare to the real deal...
Your whole body was a mix of hot and cold, given the temperature of the room and the sexual energy meddling between your excited bodies.
“J-Jake…” you stuttered with a whine, clinging to the couch as your face flushed a ruddy hue, walls desperately clenching around his fingers, “please...l-let me come for you…”
The poor boy didn't know what to do with himself given how wet you were, his puppy-dog eyes looking almost in awe now that the realization had hit him:
He finally got you where he wanted you… and from your perspective, the likewise…
“You can let go now baby,” is all Jake manages to say before you're coming undone, the knot in you abdomen unraveling throughout every limb of your body as pure pleasure coursed through your starved out veins.
Jake kept the camera on your body the entire time, too, his digits only slowing down slightly to help you ride out your high.
He hadn't even fully slipped from your hole yet before a feeling of emptiness washed over you, lust-ridden eyes following Jake’s every move as his veiny hand retreated from your core.
He caught on to it, too... the way your eyes panned in on him like your own built in set of camera lenses... capturing every movement to store in your favorite mental file.
“Fuck,” Jake groaned around his own fingers suddenly, tasting the milky slick he gathered from your hole, “been missing the taste of you so bad, angel...”
“Then kiss me,” you whispered heavily, a clear sheen of Jake's saliva mixed with your sweet release painting the cupid's bow of his pouty lips.
He didn't hesitate to take heed to your words either, setting the camera down with haste before hovering back over you on the couch, not even guiding your face as he kissed your lips, humming into the contact.
The feeling of Jake's sloppy textured tongue against yours sent shivers down your spine, his hot breath doing nothing but heat up the warmth already present between your legs.
His heart pounded against his ribs as the kiss continued, his glasses eventually fogging up from how intense the contact was, compelling you to push him away for a seconds to remove his glasses, your own heart fluttering at his flushed demeanor.
“I need to touch you... r-right now,” you choked out breathlessly, not even bothering to cover your naked body now that the sheet was slipping to the floor.
It was a bit awkward at first, you'll admit, being completely naked while Jake was fully clothed. You grew tired of undressing him with your eyes and knew you had to do something about the issue throbbing behind his pants.
Before Jake could even respond, you were already pushing him back against the other side of the couch, his head plopping on the sofa arm with a gentle thud, fluffy brown locks framing his face.
The shadow of a smirk meddled over his handsome features as you eagerly yet patiently worked on unzipping his pants, the thick mound from his clothed hardness making your head spin.
There was really no point in taking things slow with him in this moment because its not like you two haven't already fucked each other before... only difference now was that it had been a while, so the nerves had built up—
“It's so red,” you remarked with a whisper, just having shimmed Jake's pants down enough for you to get his cock out, “does it hurt?”
“I'll let you know once you start touching it,” he let out with a relaxed breath, eyes once again focusing on the way you sat before him with your tits out on full display.
You took his comment as some sort of green light, gently taking his length in your grasp and pumping it in long, drawn out strokes.
His thighs were already trembling, hips grinding up into your first to gain a bit more friction.
“Fuck, stop teasing, ____,” he groaned with half-lidded eyes, wrapping his hand around yours to manually control the pace.
You let out a laugh at his neediness, swatting his hand away so you could take over again, “This is all apart of the foreplay, Jake... you know I'll be riding your cock properly before the night's out, anyways...”
Deep down, you were having just a little too much fun toying around with Jake right now, but given the sexually frustrated furrow of his eyebrows, you decided to be nice and just let him have you already.
Still pumping his shaft in your hand, you sat up on your knees to straddle him, lining up his tip with your entrance before letting your weight sink onto him, struggling to adjust to his size given how long its been since you took him.
A quiet curse fell from Jake's lips as he watched you wiggle past his mushroom tip, his veiny hands reaching forward to help you completely reach his pelvis.
You let out a shaky whimper at the sudden feeling of fullness, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to stop yourself from making any more pained sounds.
“There you go, pretty... nice and easy...” Jake cooed while still gripping the flesh of your hips, mostly because if he didn't, he would've started thrusting into you, “do you wanna stop?”
“N-no,” you practically blurted out, thighs still feeling tense despite how badly you wanted this with him, “I want you to make me cum again, Jakey... I can take it...”
Your words were like magic to his ears, his strong hand guiding your body against his as he left a tender kiss to your cheek before holding you in place, his dick moving in and out of you at a steady pace that escalated in a matter of seconds.
To be honest, you were shocked by Jake's adrenaline, your body already shaking beneath his arms as he held onto you tighter, grunting with each time your desperate walls clenched around him.
His balls bounced to the rhythm of his powerful thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin making you shut your eyes tightly in pleasure, whining frantically at the mix of sensations.
Your eyes started to sprout with tears, damping Jake's shoulder as he fucked against your g-spot, making it nearly impossible for you to hold in your delighted screams.
Pouring out a string of whiny moans, your body subconsciously moved with his hips, Jake catching on to your reactions rather quickly as he whispered a sultry “You like that, baby?” against your neck, your head nodding lazily as you looked into each other's eyes, right before your lips crashed into his. 
“I missed this so fucking badly, Jake... 'missed being this close to you,” you let out weakly, one of his thumbs going to wipe the tear of moisture sliding down your face as he kept rutting into you.
“I know, angel,” he panted, kissing you on the center of your lips before pulling back, his tip reaching the furthest its ever been inside your pussy as you rocked your hips against his, wobbly pleas of pleasure slipping past both your lips before you felt yourselves reach your peaks.
“Aww, f-f... shit,” you whined, Jake's hips still pivoting against you despite how strong the orgasm was, your thighs trembling as you felt your walls tighten around him.
“That's it, baby,” Jake cooed through heavy breaths, reeling out more of your pretty moans as he rode out your high for the last time, holding you close to him, “let it all out, angel...”
You let your legs relax, just as Jake sat himself up straight, delicate lips kissing along your jawline as he whispered against your skin, “Now you belong to me again…”
And there it was, two twisted souls basking in the very web of obsession the sewed together, a lost love blossoming yet again from a matter of stolen glances and a series of clandestine photographs bringing you back together again.
You internally yawned at the feeling of Jake's lips against you, his possessive words only making your heart sing as you reached down for the sheet, draping it over both your spent bodies...
“I've always been yours, Jake,” you smiled sincerely, ruffling the hair atop his head before falling back into his embrace, letting yourselves snuggle into the plush cushion of the couch, “even when you left me first...”
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▹ Author's Note: This story is a work of fiction and does not intend to romanticize the harmfully obsessive behaviors described between the two characters. Real-life stalking is not okay my guys, so please, don’t be a sasaeng and instead seek healthy relationships !
▹ Perm Taglist ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 ) : @squoxle @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr
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pathologicalreid · 3 months
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Hello, love your writing, can i request a oneshot for spencer Reid x wife!reader with the plot of the movie taken where she goes on a business trip or something and she gets taken and the team have to work against the clock to get her back. Had this idea for so long and thought you would be perfect to write it. Perfectly fine if you dont but im craving this story.
leave a message after the beep | S.R.
When you go missing under suspicious circumstances on a business trip, the BAU goes to Texas - and ends up in the middle of something bigger than anticipated.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, blood, guns, reader almost kills someone, hospitals, the securities and exchange commission, typical cm violence, texas, takes place maybe circa season 7 word count: 4.03k a/n: okay anon so like yes i can write this but also i've never seen the movie taken so really i took your request and made it my own! i hope you like it either way!
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Tuesday, 2:17 p.m.
“Hey, Spence, it’s me. Shame I got your voicemail, but I just landed at Dallas Fort Worth and I’m waiting for my ride to take me to meet the regional officers. Not sure if you’re traveling, but uh, call me when you get this, I guess. Or when you can. Hopefully, this trip goes better than I think it’s going to… oh, I think my ride is here.”
Tuesday, 6:42 p.m.
“Hey babe, so, the first meeting went fine, they don’t seem very receptive, but people generally aren’t when I’m sent in to change their methods. Wish you’d pick up your phone. Anyway, I’m on my way to the hotel now, I’ll probably try you again before I go to bed. I know my updates are probably riveting.”
Tuesday, 8:09 p.m.
“Well, I’ve definitely stayed in nicer hotels than this one, but I guess I can’t complain about being put up for free. I’m probably just biased because the a/c unit is busted – oh, my room number is 316, I know you like to have it. I opened the windows to let air in but it’s so dry here that I’m not sure it’s helping any. I’ll shut them before I go to sleep, so don’t worry about that. Call me back, I miss you, don’t worry about waking me up. I think that’s all I’ve got, goodnight, I love you!”
There was a collective sigh in the roundtable room, five agents around the room all looked nervously at each other. No one wanted to be the first person to speak. No one wanted to be the first to propose a theory. “Where’s Spencer?” Emily asked, looking through the voicemail transcripts that were splayed out in front of her.
“In Hotch’s office, they’re talking,” Rossi said, eyeing the photo of you that was being projected up on the screen. Most of the time, Penelope just used driver’s license or passport photos in files, but for you, she had chosen a photo from the last BAU O’Keefe’s outing. Your skin was flushed and there was an odd shadow being cast on your face, but your smile was unmistakable.
The official files would have your driver’s license photo, but that picture was for the BAU. Seemingly unable to peel her eyes off of the screen, JJ asked the question that everyone was sitting on, “We’re on this case, right?”
It felt ridiculous, one of their own had gone missing in the middle of the night and they weren’t even sure if they had the jurisdiction to look into it. When no one answered, Morgan looked around the room, “The brass isn’t seriously going to try to tell us not to investigate.”
“No, they’re not,” Hotch said, suit jacket unbuttoned and fluttering behind him as he walked into the roundtable room with purpose. “We’ll debrief more on the plane, JJ and Garcia will stay here, the rest of us are headed to Dallas,” he instructed, nodding at everyone before turning around and walking out the door, the rest of the team following like ducks in a row.
On the jet, the traveling members of the team watched as Rossi held a cup of coffee out for Spencer to take, but the team's youngest member took a moment to even recognize that it was there, “Oh,” he mumbled, “thank you.” Blinking a haze from his eyes, he took the cup in his shaky hands.
A familiar concern flowed among Spencer’s teammates, they all watched as he twisted his wedding ring around his finger – a nervous habit that usually presented itself when he missed you. “Y/N’s boss is en route to Quantico to talk with JJ, the flight’s about three hours, we should get started,” Hotch was the one to speak up, herding the sheep in the correct direction while everything felt aimless.
With his legs tucked beneath himself, Spencer watched the team as they bounced back and forth in a discussion on what you were doing in Dallas and Penelope scoured through your recent communication.
“According to the voicemails and the hotel records, her room was on the third floor,” Emily spoke up, flipping through the file in front of her. “Do we have crime scene photos from the hotel room yet?”
On the video screen, Penelope shook her head, “CSI is still processing the scene, I have an inquiry in with them to send the photos as soon as they can.”
Checking his watch, Hotch looked over at Spencer, still sequestered on one side of the jet, “Make sure they keep the scene undisturbed for when we arrive. Dave and Morgan will meet with the sheriff at the hotel, and the rest of us will head to the precinct to set up.”
If Spencer wanted to be the one to investigate the crime scene, he didn’t protest his assignment, he just continued to spin that gold band on his finger. He didn’t notice the glances exchanged between the rest of his team; he could only think of you.
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With the involvement of the BAU, the team had been redirected to the Dallas Field Office. “There was a hole torn in the window screen, the crime scene techs think that’s how they got inside,” Morgan announced to the team, they were all gathering in the conference room.
“On the third floor?” JJ questioned over video chat, she and Penelope sat right next to each other on the screen.
Rossi nodded, “We must be looking at a team. At least two, likely three UnSub’s in order to pull something like this off. They cut the camera feed and broke into the hotel room where she was staying – this was premeditated.”
It wasn’t difficult to deduce that being taken from the third floor of a hotel meant that you had been a target, but the evidence of a break-in settled like a boulder on Spencer’s chest. Someone had intended to take you. Someone had intended on grabbing you from your hotel room in the middle of the night – and they had succeeded.
“Is there any chance she forgot to close the windows when she went to sleep last night?” Emily looked over at Spencer, dark brows raised quizzically as she leaned over the table, skimming through the voicemail transcripts again.
Clenching his jaw, Spencer shook his head, recalling your promise to close the windows before the end of the night. “No, she’d never forget. She knows I worry,” although, after this, you’d never be able to chide him for worrying too much ever again. Sharing a knowing look with the brunette before him, “So, she’s been missing since last night, not this morning.”
The initial assumption had been that you’d disappeared at some point early in the morning, maybe on your way to your first meeting of the day, no one was entirely sure, but this confirmed that you had been missing for at least eight hours more than the first estimate.
A knock on the door garnered the attention of the team, each of them turning to see a field agent, “Uh, Ezra Buchmann is here to speak with you, he said he got a call from your tech girl.”
Hotch nodded succinctly, “That’s the co-worker who reported the case. Morgan, go see if he needs anything. Dave, let’s go check out the office building that Y/N had been working at.”
“Do you think she might’ve been caught up in something at work?” Spencer asked, following his team members with his eyes as they left the conference room.
The unit chief didn’t provide a forward answer, “I’d like to start checking off some possibilities. It’s been fourteen hours with no firm leads.” It wasn’t as optimistic as anyone had hoped, but Hotch shared a look with Emily before leaving the room.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Spencer turned to the evidence board, looking at the pictures of your hotel room, the water splashed around the rim of the bathroom sink, your phone charging on the bedside table, your wedding ring resting on the counter, and if he separated himself from the missing posters, he could almost convince himself that they were just random pictures. Almost.
Frowning at the blown-up images of partial fingerprints and a random CCTV shot from across the street, he recalled your voicemails. “I wasn’t busy,” he confessed to Emily. “When she called me, I wasn’t busy. I was doing other things, but I wasn’t too busy to answer the phone. I assumed that I’d have the chance to talk to her today,” he said, slightly leaning over the oak table, resting his fingerprints on the varnished surface in an attempt to keep himself standing.
Pursing her lips, Emily took a member for responding, “That’s not an outrageous assumption to make,” she tried to reason with a miserable man. “You’d never think something like this would happen.”
“Until it does,” Spencer continued. “We see it happen to people all the time, we’ve made a life of it, but I never thought it would happen to me. To her,” he maundered. If he had a dollar for every time he had heard the same sentiment from victim’s families, he’d never have to work another day in his life. “I did call her back when I got home last night,” he added, though, he wasn’t entirely sure who he was trying to reassure.
In an effort to comfort him, Emily reached out and patted his arm, “We will find her, Spencer.”
Dead or alive? He wanted to retort, but he bit his tongue, holding it in.
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As a favor to him, in the hopes of providing him with some emotional respite, Emily had haggled with the field agent whose name was last on the chain of custody of your belongings. It wasn’t entirely proper for evidence to be released to family, but she offered to put her name on it in the interim.
She stayed with Spencer in the conference room, letting him keep your things nearby as she spoke with JJ and went through the information that had been acquired back at Quantico. The team now had your performance reviews at work and, according to JJ, your boss couldn’t say enough good things about you. While it was nice to hear, it didn’t bring them any closer to finding where you were.
Tracing the woodgrain of the table with his fingertips, Spencer eventually tuned the phone call out, instead wondering at what point he was obligated to call your parents. He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice your phone was ringing in the evidence bag before him until Prentiss tapped him on the shoulder.
It was an unknown number, but that was a barrier easily blocked by Garcia with a quick search. The rest of the team watched as she blanched on the screen, “Uh, you might want to answer that.”
“Garcia, who is it?” Hotch asked, a hardened look on his face as he looked from the screen to the buzzing cellphone.
JJ frowned at Penelope’s monitor as if she couldn’t believe what she was reading, “It’s the SEC,” she responded.
Swiftly, Hotch answered the phone call, turning on speakerphone so the rest of the team could hear, “Hello.”
“Hello, may I speak with Mrs. Reid?” A male voice came through the receiver, everyone sharing the same wary look.
Focused on the phone call, Hotch shook his head, “This is Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner with the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, you can speak with me.” He said, elaborating on the situation and rendering the SEC investigator speechless.
Unable to listen to the conversation any longer, Spencer got up, minding his movements as he walked out of the conference room. He checked the map of the building that was posted on the wall before walking up the stairs, making his way up to the roof of the building.
The dry heat of Dallas was about as miserable as everyone made it out to be, but it was hard to ignore the way it reminded him of home. Maybe he could call his mom – speaking with her usually brought him some semblance of peace. Though, she might have a negative reaction to the situation he found himself in. On the hot rubber roofing, he kicked around piles of dirt before leaning against the ledge of the building, craning his head back and closing his eyes when he heard the rooftop door open.
“Look, I’m really not in the mood for any sort of discussion right now,” he complained, neglecting to spare a glance at whoever was disturbing his quiet – not exactly an Eden, but quiet.
He recognized Emily by the sound her boots made, even on the rubber that had been softened by the relentless sun, “I’d be more surprised if you were in the mood to talk.”
Impulsively, he rolled his eyes, “Did Hotch put you in charge of me?” He was glad his eyes were still shut, that way he couldn’t see the look on Emily’s face when he sniped at her.
“No,” she responded, gathering his attention as he brought his head down, squinting in the sunlight. “I thought you might want to know what just happened,” she nearly challenged, dark hair gleaming in the daylight.
Mentally kicking himself, he nodded for a moment, “You’re right, I just… I’m sorry.”
Taking a moment, Prentiss walked over, standing next to him, “I know.” She sighed, turning around and taking inventory of the surrounding buildings, “She was sent out here to look at some shady dealings of the company – insider trading, that kind of stuff. The main branch has an investigation open with the SEC, and they have been for the last few months. She was supposed to meet with that Ezra guy this morning to try and work something out. Hotch is talking to the CEO right now, he’s claiming he couldn’t tell JJ because it’s need-to-know,” Emily explained, focusing her eyes on the highway in the distance. “The SEC has an office in Fort Worth, they’re sending some people, and they faxed over all of the files.”
Setting his jaw, Spencer was the first to move to the stairs, the air conditioning providing an instant relief as he strode down the steps with Emily trailing close behind.
A field agent was standing in the middle of the office, stirring a cup of coffee, “Would someone really kidnap a woman over an SEC investigation?”
“We’ve seen much worse for much less,” Spencer mentioned in passing, swerving through the office of people until he made it back to the conference room. “Why would Y/N’s boss send her to investigate something that had already been brought to the SEC?” He posed the question to the rest of the team, taking one of the files that Morgan handed him and reading through the pages.
Rossi shrugged, nodding his head in the direction of the evidence board, “He wanted it handled quietly,” he posited. “Maybe he thought she could negotiate a solution and they could call off the securities investigation.”
Understanding where Spencer was going with his question, Hotch watched the board as if it was all coming together, “But, Y/N had no idea there was an open investigation. This was just another assignment to her.”
You had basically said as much in your voicemails, you went in, and you cleaned up fires across the country, and now you were caught in a blaze. “It was a setup,” Spencer concluded.
“And I know just who you need to talk to,” Garcia said over the phone, typing on her keyboard, “Check your phones.”
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Ezra’s assistant folded immediately under the threat of being charged with interfering with a federal investigation. She had no knowledge of what her boss was up to, but she did know where the BAU could find him.
On the edge of the city, your company held an old office building that was slated for demolition. With the information from the assistant and some actions of questionable legality from Garcia, the team was able to nail down Ezra’s location and, hopefully, yours.
Letting SWAT lead the way, Spencer, Emily, and Morgan all made their way up yet another flight of stairs, hoping to be able to find you on the third floor. The SWAT commander signaled with his fingers to direct everyone in their respective directions.
There was a clang from across the floor and everyone froze in place, “Fuck you!” Your voice rang out, reverberating through the mostly empty office space. The yelp that followed would have sent Spencer clambering in your direction if it weren’t for Morgan grabbing his arm in warning. “I didn’t know,” you spoke again, your tone less obstinate as the misery you felt crept in.
Drawing their weapons, the team clung to the wall as SWAT gave orders over comms until the team came into view, lifting their firearms.
In retaliation, Ezra pulled you up, keeping a deadly tight grip on your upper arm as he kept you compliant by pressing the barrel of his gun to your temple. “She told me you’d come,” he said, nearly seething with rage like a rabid animal.
It seemed like a ridiculous moment to feel relief, but the fact that you knew the BAU would come for you ever so slightly lightened the weight on Spencer’s shoulders. However, whatever relief he felt was quickly banished from existence when his eyes met yours, you were covered in blood. It leaked in a steady stream from your nose and down your sleep shirt, he hoped that was the extent of the damage that had been done but based on the evidence of a struggle in the hotel room, he doubted it.
“Y/N, don’t look at him, look at us, look at Spencer,” Emily reasoned, noting the way you looked over at your captor, eyeing the gun in his hand.
You didn’t look scared, not to Spencer, though Emily had reasonably assumed that you would be in this situation. “Y/N, don’t,” Spencer said in a warning.
But his warning came too late, you had already swung your bound hands up, grabbing the weapon from Ezra as you kicked his legs out from under him. If Spencer hadn’t been so worried, he would’ve been impressed, but now he found himself in an entirely different situation.
“The safety’s still on,” you chastised as your now shaking hands undid the small latch, settling your pointer finger on the trigger as you stared him down.
SWAT seemed entirely dumbfounded, not sure how to go about the admittedly unique situation, so, it fell upon your husband to talk you down. Slowly, he holstered his weapon and stepped toward you, “Baby, put the gun down.”
You sucked in a harsh breath, “He set me up, Spence”
“I know, darling, I know,” Spencer said breathlessly, holding his hands out to stop any and all movement in the warehouse. “This isn’t the answer though, okay? You know this isn’t the answer.”
Your hands didn’t stop shaking, still bound together by the flex cuffs on your wrists as you narrowed your eyes at Ezra. “He set me up,” your voice broke at the sheer memory of the betrayal.
Distantly, you heard Derek tell people to lower their weapons, convincing the field agents that you weren’t a threat. “This isn’t you,” Spencer insisted.
Blinking as tears fell from your eyes, you gripped the handle of the gun, leaving your pointer finger hovering precariously on the trigger. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer. This isn’t you. This isn’t the answer.
Swallowing thickly, you looked down at Ezra, who was taunting you, trying to get you to pull the trigger. You fought against yourself, trying not to stare at Spencer because you knew as soon as you met his brown eyes, the choice would be made for you.
“Pull the damn trigger,” Ezra jeered, baring his teeth at you. This was it; this was the end. The FBI had the whole building surrounded. Even if he tried to run, the BAU would follow him, they’d chase him down, and they’d kill him themselves if it came down to it.
Slowly, you moved your thumb, re-engaging the safety before you lowered your arms, handing the gun off to Spencer. As he grabbed the barrel of the gun with one hand, he pulled you in with the other, passing the gun off to Emily so he could hug you tightly.
He pulled away for a moment, retrieving a pocketknife and using it to cut the flex cuffs from your wrists, letting the stiff plastic fall to the ground, and catching you when you practically threw your arms around him.
Your legs gave out from under you, and Spencer wondered how long you had been in this sweltering building without water, likely having used the last of your strength to stop Ezra. “Shh,” he hushed gently, “Let’s sit down,” he spoke to only you as he guided you to the ground.
Closer to you now, he saw more of the damage that had been done, the glazed look over your eyes, your chapped lips, and a bruise on the side of your head. “I knew you’d come,” you murmured dazedly, swaying ever so slightly, “I told him you’d come.”
“I know, I know,” Spencer reassured you, listening to the buzzing of people, hopefully EMTs, around you.
A hiccupping sob almost broke his heart, but he just kept his hold on you, keeping you upright and wishing your nosebleed would clot. “I almost killed him,” you mumbled.
But you didn’t, he wanted to respond. Part of him felt like it would’ve been fine if you had. You’d have gotten away with it, even, but he knew firsthand what it felt like to take another life. He wanted to believe that he had played a part in you turning the safety back on, but even he wasn’t sure.
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“How are you feeling? Better?” Spencer asked, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed and taking your hand in his.
He squeezed your hand gently, allowing you to admire the way your wedding ring looked now that it had been returned to its rightful home. “Much,” you assured him, keeping your head resting on the mountain of pillows behind you. You had been cleaned up, stitches on your forehead, and a bandaged cut on your thigh, but the main concern was your dehydration. An IV delivered fluids to you while you sipped on a cup of water, waiting for your stomach to settle enough for you to eat something.
Spencer raised his eyebrows, reaching out and sweeping a strand of hair behind your ear, “Good enough to try something for dinner?”
You nodded apprehensively, “Something light?”
The smile that sprouted on his face was enough to convince you to eat. He offered to go talk to your nurse, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before he left the room, leaving the door open so you could see him in the hallway.
A small chime got your attention, looking around for the source of the noise, you found yourself digging through Spencer’s bag, retrieving your cell phone from the leather satchel.
There was a scratch over the screen, but it still worked just fine following your skirmish in the hotel, you opened the phone to find that you had a voicemail. You tapped the message before bringing the phone to your ear.
Tuesday, 10:23 p.m.
“Hey love, I’m just leaving the office now. I’m sure they’ll be more receptive to you as you talk more, you can be very convincing. The weather is very dry in Texas, make sure you keep hydrated, okay? I’m sorry I didn’t answer any of your calls, we’ve been trying to prepare all of this paperwork for Strauss and time just got away from us. I miss you, maybe when you get home, we could talk about taking a trip. We could go see my mom. It’s been a while. Hm… I have to admit, I’m a little bummed you didn’t answer the phone, but I’m glad you’re getting sleep. I love you so much, sleep well.”
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screampied · 7 months
Note
Needy reader x Sukuna? Where she's been being bratty cause he's been busy, and he needs to put her in her place? Orgasm denial until he felt the reader learned her lesson? I FEEL LIKE IT WOULD BE SO HOT
໒꒱ ₊˚ ‘ TEASE ME, PLEASE ME ! ’﹒⺡— SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
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☰ warnings. fem! reader, modern au, brat taming, unprotected, ōrgasm denial/edging, doggy, dirty talk, praise, dumbification, mdni.
an. yes
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you were annoyed, to say the least.
all you knew was that you wanted more, more of sukuna. yet you had to be a good girl and wait. it irritated you, the simple fact that he was on the phone. as he’s talking, holding the phone right up against his ear, you drag your feet towards him, propping yourself down right on his lap.
“tch,” he mutters, cutting off from his words before pulling you close towards him. you lean into his touch. falling back against his chest, a hand then grabs onto your thigh. “sit still,” he says, almost reading your mind. knowing you, you’d do the entire opposite, which you certainly end up doing. sukuna lowly grunts, feeling you jerk your hip right up against his sweats, specifically against his bulge.
he’s been on the phone for how many hours—you lost count. but you were aroused, just his smell was enough to get you off. to have your panties coated in nothing but your own pathetic wetness.
“yeah, ‘m listenin' yeah,” sukuna rasps, tilting his head towards the right, trying to focus back on the topic. due to you messing with him, his mind was anywhere but the current discussion at hand. knowing that made you smile, giggle aloud and all. albeit, sukuna overheard and he’s sending you straight daggers near the back of your skull. he breaks away, lowering his tone before retorting, “glad ya think this is funny. jus’ wait ‘till ‘m done with this call, little girl.”
his voice only makes you more excited between your legs, you were indeed a brat. never taking him serious…
one of the many things he found annoying about you. how you were always giving him sass and back talk, yet he also found that trait about you partially amusing.
mainly due to the fact in how he’d always be able to put you right back into your place. like today.
he clenches his jaw, feeling you grind up your ass against him. sukuna groans, getting hard from something as facile as this. he tells you one thing, and you just do the exact opposite.
“get off the phone, ‘kuna,” you’d moan, pitching your voice a tad bit - purposely making your voice loud for whoever on the other end of the line to hear. “i want you.”
“i told ya to wait,” he snarls, and you let off a gasp once he starts to bounce his thigh. propped up on his right thigh, your moans started to get a bit whiney, nails digging right into his pants leg. leaning back against his chest, you teasingly try to reach into his sweats before he smacks your hand. “don’t try me. be a good girl ‘n wait.”
“you t-take so longgg,” you’d babble, practically grinding on his leg by now. the sheer fabric ghosting against your panties felt good, but it wasn’t enough. you wanted more, you needed more. to be stretched out, stuffed entirely full, it was all you ever wanted. “fuck me, ‘kuna.”
sukuna clicks his tongue, you were already testing his patience.
speaking of patience, it was running thin. very.
“sorry, sorry. i’m here,” he grumbles, and the bouncing of his thigh only gets more intense. you moaned, feeling yourself throb before hiding your face into his neck. it felt good, but the stimulation wasn’t enough. you wanted more and he knew it too. the way your breathing patterns gradually changed. “yeah, my uh .. pet’s bothering me. keep talking.”
it seemed like his phone call lasted forever, yet that’s when you ended up cumming right on sukuna’s thigh. your legs shook violently as it was so unexpected.
it made you spasm, and you were quite loud too. it was apparent whoever was on the other line heard you. sukuna’s jaw clenched, and you throbbed once you slowly look up to see him glaring straight down at you.
“fuckin’ brat,” he grouses, and he hangs up the phone, mindlessly tossing it elsewhere. you have a near smug grin spreading on your face, but it all changes once sukuna shoves you off his lap to instead bend you flat over his desk. “spoiled little girl. told you to wait ‘n you can’t even do that?”
“s-sorry, ‘kun—”
“girl shut the fuck up ‘n bend over for me.”
you grow quiet, not even asking questions.
he found it pathetic how you were so quick to arch your back. so willing, you moaned — feeling a rough hand kiss against your ass, the sting…
it made you bite down on your lip before you hear a bit of shuffling from his sweats. right after giving your rear with a spank, he caresses it lovingly to make you feel each individual nerve.
“this what you really want, huh? for me to be mean ‘n bend you over like this, princess?” he rasps. you let off a soft moan, feeling sukuna’s sharp nails softly run against your skin.
“y-yesss.”
“dumb girl, ya weren’t supposed to answer.”
whilst you were bent over the desk, sukuna doesn’t waste any time to make his way inside of you. you wanted him so bad.
you wanted far more than just his boring thigh. just imagining his thick cock easing its way inside of you, it had your head spinning.
he had so much girth, you’re salivating at the pure image of feeling him stretch you out like he always does. holding your hips up so he could bounce you on his cock — all until you’re just stupid fit him. eyes rolled back, tongue lolled out, his ultimate favorite descriptors.
“such lazy posture, can’t even bend for me right, tch.” and he’s clearly mocking you.
mocking you with how you tried to sit up a bit but he makes you lean down further. your breathing hitched once sukuna brings his tip towards your slick, puckering entrance. he groans, watching the way how you’re trying to quickly swallow him.
it amuses him, you amuse him.
you swallow thickly, feeling him grab both of your wrists back. he holds onto them with one hand, another gripped around his length. “s-sukuuu,��� you slurred out, feeling his plump tip brush up against your slit. the strings of your own mess voluntarily coating his dick just from a few love taps, it makes him insanely feral.
sukuna likes studying you like this, from behind more specifically. the way your muscles would retract. the perfect position to see your ass go back against him, the recoil.
he loved the recoil.
“want attention, i’ll give you attention, girl.”
you’re completely speechless the moment he gradually goes inside, showing somewhat of a decent courtesy at helping you adjust to him. yet once you’re all good. and …oh, he’s vigorous.
drilling his hips into you with such power, babbles run out of your mouth and your head’s nearly being shoved against the multiple scatted papers on his desk.
“mhm,” he grunts, gifting your ass with another rude spank. you were so warm from the inside, one of his favorite things to feel.
the way you gripped down on him, clamping and clamping. a cluster of nerves made your body feel like it was on cloud nine. his thrusts had you were making the most stupidest sounds, over and over. “shame. all it takes to shut ya up is to bend you over.”
“s-shut uppp, sukuna.” you whined, still having a bit of brat left within you.
he rolls his eyes, and with a sharp smack against his hips. it makes you eat your words. “never know when to quit, huh? bet me bein' this deep in you makes you soaked,” and he leans up close to you—your ass was pressed right up against him and he’s buried all the way in. a hand wraps around your neck softly, a thumb stroking the passageway of your throat before he whispers lowly into your ear. “soaked for me like some slut.”
“i’d be more wet if you knew how to f-fuck me right, suku—”
he doesn’t even let you finish your sentence, you definitely struck a nerve. although, all sukuna does is snicker. he admires your . . brattiness.
“can’t stand that nasty fuckin’ mouth of yours,” he grunts, and his pace quickens. his dick reaches everywhere to have you spasm.
you’re whimpering out his name repeatedly as if it’s some sort of mantra. until it’s the only word your brain could comprehend.
he’s ruthlessly driving his hips into you so good, it leaves your maw hanging, a bit of drool running past your lips.
it was a sight, you were a bit filthy. actually, a bit was probably nothing more than a pure understatement though.
you were practically being rammed against the wooden desk, the constant jerks and screeches the furniture sang in harmony rang throughout your ears.
“f-fuckkk, ‘kuna,” you’d whimper, feeling his cock tap right against that particular spot. it sent a bunch of nerves to coarse all throughout your veins. you were nearly limp, feeling yourself start to grow warm all over your body. “think ‘m close, ‘m gonna c-cum, sukuna.”
“i don’t let brats cum on me, little girl,” sukuna replies in a husky tone. it makes you pulse — it was pathetic, him muttering a few words in that deep voice was enough to have you soaked. “besides, ya don’t even deserve it anyway.”
the biggest pout goes against your lips, and you furrow your eyebrows as you feel his hips pivot deeper into you. the angle he’s got, it’s got you sent into a complete frenzy. his rounded tip kisses against your sweet spot numerous times before you let off a soft squeak. “y-yes, yes i do. please.”
“oh, you think you do? after the little shit you pulled?” and he sounds amused more than anything. the sudden rasp in his tone makes you wet, you’re casually bent over with the most cutest arch possible. “i beg to differ, baby. you interrupted my phone call just so i can fuck you.”
completely ignoring his comment, you whimper out a sweet, “s-sukuna, please. wanna c-cum, please.”
“awww,” he purrs, and he starts to jackhammer his cock into you. it leaves you dumbfounded, your mouth open and you’re struggling on what to register in your empty little brain. your pussy squelched as a response, squelch after squelch it started to sound more like a harmony. a lewd harmony. “you wanna c-cum?”
he mocks your stutter and you pout for probably the umpteenth time. sukuna purposely butches your voice, and with the way he rolls his hips into you—you’re captured in a trance.
his cock was so thick, dragging all throughout your walls to where you’re a babbling mess. “yes, wanna cum. please ‘kuna. ‘m c-cumming.”
“no, you’re not.” he huffs out, and you let off a whine once he prods again and against your most sensitive spots. his cock roamed everywhere, he knew just the right areas to reach, to torment, to toy with.
your mouth suddenly grew dry, being denied like that — it had your heart racing. “what you’re gonna do is, you’re gonna be a good girl ‘n wait some more.”
“but s-sukuna.”
“but- but, yeahhh,” he snickers, chuckling at the way he mimicked your whiney state. he was so mean, yet it never failed to make you drenched between your thighs nonetheless. you were hungry for more, panting and heaving all throughout. although, sukuna ends up pulling out abruptly.
you’re still catching your breath, laid flat over the desk, wriggling your ass in confusion as to why he suddenly pulled his shaft out of you. you frowned, now clenching over nothing.
“w-what happened?”
“i’ll tell ya what happened,” sukuna mutters, and he gets right up close towards you. he gets behind your ear, and you let off a moan once he brings a hand between your legs, softly stroking near your swollen pulsating entrance. “i’m finished.”
you furrow your eyebrows, yet moan once he starts to slip a finger inside of your folds — softly giving you a few sweet strokes. “h-huhh? but you didn’t-”
“i’m done,” he repeats, and the curse kisses the side of your forehead. “no brat’s gonna disrespect me. but hey, you can always be a big girl ‘n finish yourself off.”
you whined, definitely not wanting to do that at all when he was right here. you moan, uttering out a needy, “but sukuna…” only for him to turn your head towards him — leaving a sweet and sloppy kiss planted right on your lips. the second he pulls away, he smacks your ass before leaving.
“no buts, finish yourself off. come call me when you’re done being a brat, princess.”
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babyleostuff · 4 months
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when they take a joke too far | ot13
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❥ seungcheol 
as much as i love cheol, i don’t think he’d immediately notice that he took the joke too far, mainly because of the fact that when he’s in the moment, surrounded by other people, you know - trying to be funny (maybe attempting on impressing others with his amazing joking skills), he’d be a bit too focused on the people surrounding him. it doesn’t change the fact that the second he notices you acting a tad bit off, he’s all over you asking you questions - if you are all right, if you want to leave, if you need food or water, his jacket etc etc. when he’d find out you were upset by his joke, oh - he’d be so so disappointed and angry with himself, truly. cheol would apologise, of course, and ask you if you needed space (it would break his heart if you said yes tbh, but he'd understand that). he just wouldn’t want to disappoint and hurt you even more.
❥ jeonghan 
jeonghan knows he can be quite petty and sarcastic at times, and his jokes can be taken ambiguously sometimes, especially when people don’t really know him and his humour. then again, he’d never tell a mean joke on purpose, he’s not mean like that, but sometimes his jokes do not come out as he means them to. it could take him some time to notice you being upset over his joke because after all you’re quite used to his sense of humour, so he’d never think that you could get upset over it. in his mind his joke is just a silly comment, he obviously doesn’t mean for it to upset you, god forbid. when he finds out you’re bothered by it though, he’d apologise in any way he could - he’d be extra attentive, clingy, and careful with you, but giving you space at the same time.
❥ joshua 
immediately feels so bad when he sees your expression fall after his bad joke. does not wait to apologise later or reflect on what he had just said - your visible sadness is enough for joshua to cradle your face in his hands and apologise, as sincerely as he can. even if you’re with friends or other acquaintances, he doesn’t care if people are staring or murmuring to each other, all he cares about is apologising. even if you’d forgive him, joshua would still be a bit more wary around you, making sure to give you space but at the same time still care for you and take care of you, because despite your words - he knew you were still a bit upset.
❥ jun 
wouldn’t be sure whether to pack up his things and move out of your apartment, bury himself under the sheets, or to bawl his eyes out. the worst part is when he doesn’t even realise that he upset you with his joke, because what do you mean that he made you sad and he proceeded to go about his day like nothing happened? HE DIDN’T KNOW, PLEASE FORGIVE HIM. it’s never, ever jun’s intention to make you upset (duh), and it makes everything so much worse - he’s the one who’s supposed to make you laugh, not sad. when he realises that he took the joke too far he’s not sure how to approach you, because if he could he’d apologise immediately, but then again - what if you hate him now?
❥ hoshi 
this man is the epitome of “saying before thinking”, and while he’d never tell a joke to offend someone on purpose, shit happens and not all of his jokes come off as jokes. he also gets easily distracted so it could take some time for him to notice you being upset, but at the same time he’s such a simp for you, so he’d either realise you were bothered by his comment an hour later or the second the joke left his mouth. would be the type to fall to his knees, hug your waist, bury his face in your stomach, and proceed with an at least hour apology because he feels that bad. his dramatic behaviour (and the even more dramatic apology speech) would make you laugh so hard, you’d forget about the joke in seconds. still, hoshi would be extra caring with you because no excuse could justify his joke that was lame and unfunny in the first place.
❥ wonwoo 
to be honest, i don’t see a world where wonwoo would take a joke too far, he’d notice you being uncomfortable before you’d even know you were upset by the joke yourself. BUT, if it (somehow) happened, his apology would come straight away. there is no way he’d be able to proceed with his day without apologising at least fifty times - he’s so in tune with your emotions, it’d be like he could feel you hurting because of the joke himself. wonwoo would feel very ashamed of even thinking, let alone telling such a joke, he’d feel very disappointed in himself, and he’d beat himself up for that for days.
❥ woozi 
would apologise immediately - jihoon doesn’t like bullshitting around stuff, there is no way he’d wait with apologising, not only because he doesn’t like getting into conflicts, but because you deserve that apology. it’s never his intention to upset you, and he wouldn’t be able to proceed with his day without saying something. like, what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn’t? after incidents like those (not that they happen often), he’s a bit more cautious around you, making sure to not overstep any boundaries, and letting you have some space.
❥ dk 
not happening, sorry - there is no way seokmin would take a joke too far to the point of upsetting someone, especially you. no. freaking. way. he’d rather set his body of fire than make an upsetting joke. 
❥ mingyu 
there’s also a slim chance of mingyu taking a joke too far, he’s too good of a person to upset anyone with his jokes. if it happened, he’d immediately apologise, probably in one of the most dramatic ways ever - throwing himself on his knees, yapping about how sorry he is, and how he didn’t know how such a joke could even come to his mind, while he’s eyes would be screaming “FORGIVE ME PLEASE”. he would be so disappointed and angry at himself for saying the joke, like it would take him days to get over it, even if you said you forgave him. there’s just something about taking a joke too far and making your significant upset because of it that breaks mingyu’s heart.
❥ minghao    
he can be very blunt and petty, his humour is not for everyone, but that still doesn’t mean he’d upset anyone on purpose (unless that person is rude, then they get the full on xu minghao treatment). when he notices he took his joke too far regarding you, he’s kind of clueless on what to do next - it’s not like he can ignore the fact that he said what he said, and he feels so ashamed for making you upset, in fact - too ashamed to apologise immediately. all of his confidence and bluntness suddenly leaves him, because how is he supposed to keep his head high when he just made his significant other upset with a joke, he decided to think of and then say. 
❥ seungkwan 
our savage boo can be a tad too savage at times, and sometimes his remarks can be a bit upsetting. good thing is that he quickly realises when he oversteps the boundary of what is funny and what is not, so it wouldn’t take him much time to understand that you got genuinely upset over his joke. would take your hands in his, and with a lowered head (he’d be too embarrassed and ashamed of upsetting you to look at you), and try to apologise as sincerely as he could. seungkwan would make sure to give you some space, though it would break his heart - but he knew that that was what he had to do for you to forgive him completely.
❥ vernon 
vernon isn’t known for coming up with loud and bold jokes, so he immediately catches himself after telling the joke that clearly wasn’t a good one, especially because it was directed towards you. his first instinct is to watch you to see your reaction, he wouldn’t want to say anything right away, afraid that it would make the situation only worse. he’s very cautious when approaching you, he’d understand if you’d need some space, but at the same time he doesn’t want to wait with his apology, because he feels really, really bad. he's also really good at apologising - maybe taking the full accountability for a bad joke is the bare minimum, but then again finding the bare minimum is very hard lately.
❥ chan
chan is usually quite good at controlling what he’s saying, he’s very cautious of the emotions of the people around him, and how his words might affect them. sometimes shit happens though, and not all of his jokes come out as he’d wish them to. chan’s a simp and he’s a loser for you, so he’d catch on to the fact that he took his joke too far quite quickly, and wouldn’t know how to act. he just made you sad, no - he just offended you. his joke, his words made you upset, and that’s a complete failure of his boyfriend duties, because his jokes are supposed to make you laugh, not upset. wouldn’t know how to approach you, would try to apologise through acts of service.
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listen. listen.
I know it’s a fandom joke to be like “Edwin can’t read social cues and that’s why he’s a bitch lol” but like… yes he can? I kind of think there are moments he chooses to be kind and compassionate and gentle, and then moments where he’s just being cunty on purpose. Like this scene? Right here? This is on purpose (and Crystal clocks it, and gives it right back and I love their bitchy besties dynamic).
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That doesn’t make him irredeemable or mean that we can’t like him as a character or whatever (the obsession with Good and Moral characters is definitely directly contributing to fandom rot and character interpretation, in this case). But I really need people to stop pretending he doesn’t know what he’s doing, because I kind of think he does.
Take the scene with Charles and the pot that the sprites were originally in. Charles did not drop the pot like Edwin claimed. As plenty of people have pointed out at this point, he broke it on a skeleton in a moment of panic because he was protecting Edwin from those skeletons in the dandelion field.
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Edwin, however, subtly changes his description of events from threw to dropped. He knows what happened. He was there. He’s also trying not to make tensions worse, and he knows telling Crystal that Charles broke the pot intentionally would escalate things. So he doesn’t tell her. (Everything works out the same in the end anyway, and they do save Niko together).
Then there’s the scene on the cliff, after Charles pushes The Night Nurse into the fish. This one is interesting to me because I feel like it gets misinterpreted so easily. Edwin tells Charles what he did was extreme. Perhaps the wording was poor, because Charles feels like he’s being criticized for what he did and crumbles. I think Edwin was concerned for Charles, though, because he steps forward and does something that Charles does for Edwin when he’s upset or stuck on a case- he reaches out to touch him. This is unusual for Edwin, but he has to know it’s meaningful for Charles if he does it so often (there’s similar shoulder touches in episodes 1&2 pictured here). That’s a small, subtle gesture that he noticed over time. (He does get shrugged off, but he did try).
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Or like— people have commented on this situation. I’ve heard a lot of “surely Edwin doesn’t really think Scooby Doo is that thrilling/clever/intelligent”?
Hear me out. Niko is his friend. When you’ve made a friend, you show interest in things they enjoy so you can spend time together and get to know what is meaningful to them. That in itself means he is aware this is important to Niko, which is very sweet. (Although I would like to think he genuinely likes the book recs, I’m sure those healed something within him).
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So it’s not that Edwin can’t choose to be subtle, and it’s not that he isn’t aware. It’s that he simply decides to be a bitch sometimes (and tbh I would love to go into the why behind that sometime).
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jobean12-blog · 6 months
Text
Boom Clap
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader
Word Count: 1,063
Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.
Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰
Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too
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“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”
Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.
“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”
“And not just any,” Wanda adds.
“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.
You sip your drink to hide your smile.
“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.
You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.
“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks
With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.
If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.
“Umm…” you start.
That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.
Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.
He’s here.
You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.
Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.
He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.
He looks hungry and determined.
And he’s here for you.
You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.
Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.
This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.
“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.
“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.
“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.
He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.
“Come home with me?”
“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.
“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”
Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.
“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”
“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.
You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.
You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.
Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.
You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.
But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.
Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.
You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”
“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”
“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.
Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”
“Always doll.”
Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.
He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.
“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”
“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”
His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.
He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.
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@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50
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alltheirdamn · 4 months
Text
Lilies | dom!joel x sub!f!reader
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Song Inspo: Lilies by Ethel Cain
Summary: Joel gives you everything, but you’re beginning to crave more. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 5.5k (sorry lol) Warnings: dom/sub dynamic, a teeny tiny bit of Stockholm syndrome, lingerie!kink, reader has long enough hair to braid, brat taming, jealousy, angst, names (little flower, sir, whore, slut), degrading!kink, anal play, anal sex, orgasm denial, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, ball-sucking/worship, rough sex, creampie, slapping, spanking, aftercare, joel is kinda a meany but also kinda sweet A/N: this just kind of tumbled out of me and yeah… here we are lol very far out of my element with this dynamic, so hopefully i did it justice. (i am very horny for dom!joel right now, please don’t perceive me)
Masterlist | Ko-Fi
The rules were simple:
You were to be at Joel’s home at exactly four pm every Friday and stay with him until Sunday evening
Your hair must be in a braid at all times
You could only wear lingerie (selected and purchased by Joel)
That was your routine. 
You had been Joel’s submissive for half a year, and nothing had changed. You submitted to everything he asked without question. Yes, there were safe words in place and long conversations about wants and needs, but none of that mattered to you. All that mattered was Joel’s unwavering attention every weekend. 
As time passed, though, you started wanting more. Three days weren’t enough for you. The rules weren’t enough. You wanted all of Joel. Not just his commands. Not just his cock. You wanted him to be yours in every way. 
Nothing within Joel’s rules explicitly stated you could only see one another. As far as you were concerned, he only tended to one submissive at a time, and you had been with him the longest. Pride swelled inside you when you thought of that; Joel kept you because he wanted you. He enjoyed the pleasure you brought him, and in return, he cared for you deeply. But you wanted to see how deeply he cared about you and if he was as committed to you as you were to him. 
That's when you devised a meticulously thought-out plan to prove Joel’s possessiveness. The desperate need to make him realize there would be no one else to make him happy. 
You clicked the door open at precisely four pm and entered Joel's home. He kept it spotless, an immaculate representation of his attention to detail. Nothing went unnoticed, and everything had its place and purpose. Within his home, you had your purpose as well. 
Tip-toeing through his kitchen, you brushed your hand over the marble counter, the stone cold to touch as you walked into the living room. Floor-to-ceiling bay windows compromised the room's side wall, looking out onto the brick terrace. Joel’s view of the city was the best money could buy, and you spent most Saturday mornings curled up on the patio sofa, watching the sun rise over the skyline. 
The plush, gray couch in the center of the living room faced a large flat screen, one rarely used when you stayed on the weekends. Joel insisted on being present with you, whether it was fucking you into oblivion inside his bedroom or dotting over you with aftercare and affection. The lines blurred between strict rules and faltering emotions. He wasn’t a man of many words, but the feelings expressed through actions were enough to make your heart grow fonder. 
Joel was to arrive home in less than thirty minutes, giving you enough time to piece yourself together in the new lingerie he had purchased. Wandering into the bedroom, you looked over the sight of his king-sized bed, covered in a white down comforter and scattered with an array of luxury pillows. The sheets beneath the comforter were silky soft and cool to the touch, but the press of Joel’s body against yours during the night kept you wrapped in a blanket of warmth.
The master bath was beyond beautiful, with its white trimmed crowning and alabaster bathtub under the window. Two sinks were carved into a marble counter: one for Joel and one for you. Countless times before, Joel bent you over the counter, forcing you to watch him through the bathroom mirror as he ruined you from behind. You came to learn that was one of Joel’s favorite activities: making you watch him while he fucked you. You loved it, too. 
You loved everything he did. 
Setting your overnight bag on the counter, you laid out your lingerie piece by piece. The white lace bustier was practically see-through, with a detailed pattern that left little to the imagination. The only part of the top that wasn’t fully transparent was the fishbone wiring that traced the underside of the bust. The matching underwear was no better; your neatly trimmed sex would be fully seen under the lace that comprised the tiny bodice. In Joel’s words, he wanted you to look “angelic and ethereal.” Once again, the thrumming in your heart increased knowing he saw you as such. He worshiped you head to toe, and you were so eager to give him anything he wanted. Slipping the garment over your body, you worked on your hair, plaiting the strands into a perfect braid you had mastered over the last several months. You secured it with a silk bow—just as Joel had requested—and settled it between your shoulder blades. Admiring yourself, you smiled into the mirror. Joel would be pleased with you. 
But first, you needed to do something. 
Reaching into your purse for your cell phone, you adjusted the camera to capture your lace-clad body in a teasing portrait. The photo wasn’t for Joel. Scrolling through your phone, you found the contact of your latest man of interest—well, not a genuine interest, so perhaps, the latest victim? You were only using him as part of your plan, and you hoped it worked in your favor. 
As your finger hovered over the send button, you heard the unmistakable sound of the front door lock sliding open. A thrill of anxiety rushed through your body; you would do this. Pressing send, you ran to the bedroom and placed your phone on the nightstand. The ringer was on, which Joel did not favor during your time with him. 
His large frame shadowed the bedroom door as he stepped into the room. In all his glory, Joel Miller was yours for the next seventy-two hours. But if you had it your way, he’d be yours forever. Clad in his usual work attire, his broad shoulders and chest stretched out his business suit, the white button-down peeking out beneath the jacket. His thick thighs were covered in well-tailored trousers, and his shoes were pristine and polished as he liked. Gazing up, you drank in the neatly trimmed scruff along his jaw, the silver patches thickening as they neared his ears. The mustache over his upper lip was just as clean, the edges dipping close to the curve of his mouth—which was currently tipped up into a satisfied grin.
“Hello, little flower,” he greeted. 
Little flower. 
That had always been his preferred name for you. “You’re so delicate, like a little flower. I could marvel at your beauty but crush you in my hand in seconds.” 
Such a sentiment shouldn’t ignite something so visceral inside you, but it sounded so sweet when it fell off his tongue in honey-drench syllables.
“Hello, sir,” you smiled, your body situated on the edge of the bed. 
You watched as he shed his suit jacket, folding it carefully and draping it over the dresser. His eyes stayed trained on you, the rich brown of his irises boring into you with a softness so tender it toppled something inside your stomach. Working at the cuffs of his shirt, Joel rolled them in perfect sections until they hugged the thick muscles of his forearms just below his elbows. 
“You look radiant in the new set,” he said, his eyes dragging over your body. 
You preened at his compliment, a blush crawling over your chest and neck. 
“Thank you, sir. I love anything you pick out for me.”
Joel cracked a wide grin, pleased with your response. He curled his pointer finger at you, beckoning you closer. You obeyed his command wordlessly, stepping into his warmth. Rough, calloused fingers trailed over your bare skin, trailing higher up your arm until his hand came to cup your cheek. 
Your eyes fluttered shut as he rubbed a thumb over your cheekbone, the touch you craved when you weren’t in his presence. You craved tenderness at all hours of the day; you lay awake sometimes at night yearning for more. Always more. 
You craned your neck to kiss his lips softly, gently. If you could choose how you’d die, it would always be in this moment, where the world dissolved around you, and it was just Joel’s body against yours. 
The moment shattered away as your phone shrilled from the nightstand, the vibration rattling the wood. Joel broke from your lips, his eyes set ablaze and swimming in darkness. Disappointment washed over his features, the crease between his brow forming and his lips set in a thin line. Without a single word, he strode to the nightstand and stared at your phone screen, no doubt flooded with texts from the man you had sent the photos. 
Your heart thudded in your ears, the sound pressurizing inside your head. On bated breath, you waited for him to say something. 
“Kneel,” he ordered, his voice cold. He didn’t even glance at you as he said the word. 
You did without hesitation, your knees dropping to the carpet floor without a sound. The tension in the room was palatable as Joel walked into your line of vision. He held the phone in front of your face, his fingers tight around the edges. 
“Read.” 
Your eyes scanned the words on the screen, a slew of text messages… each more vulgar than the last. You didn’t want to say them aloud. 
“Read,” he repeated. 
“I—I don’t want to, sir,” you whispered.
Joel’s body was foreboding, a shadow swallowing you whole as you sat perched on your knees before him. He could do anything he wanted to you, and the truth was that you’d let him. You’d let him do anything because you wanted it. You wanted him so desperately. 
“I didn’t ask if you wanted to read it,” he said. “I am telling you to read it.”
You swallowed thickly, your voice barely above a whisper, as you began to read off the text thread.
Damn, I need to know what your pussy looks like.
Let’s meet up tomorrow.
Send another picture. I want to see your legs spread wider.
Bet you would let me cum inside you. 
Line after line, word after word, you were embarrassed. Embarrassed and afraid, neither settled well inside your stomach as it churched together. 
Tossing the phone to the ground, Joel crouched to meet you at eye level. It was the first time you felt terrified by the way he looked at you. Several times, he had been rough—almost always, as it was what he enjoyed—but there was always a glimmer of softness even when he hurt you. 
“You did this for a reason.” Joel didn’t ask; he said it like a calculated realization. 
You bowed your head, too ashamed to meet his eye. Oh, but he didn’t like that. Gripping your chin with merciless strength, Joel lifted your face to meet his. A breath apart, but so far away. 
“Explain yourself, little flower. I’m growing rather impatient.”
“I wanted to see you jealous, sir,” you admonished. “I wanted to know what you would do.”
“Jealous,” he echoed, rolling his tongue over his teeth. 
He ripped his hand from your face, letting your head fall between your shoulders. You started at the polished tips of his work shoes, the black leather shiny and without marks. No detail went unnoticed. 
“Undo my belt,” he instructed, stretching himself back to his full height.
Straightening your spine, you reached up to his belt and began to unclasp the metal, holding it tight around his trousers. Joel continued to stare down at you unamused. You worked at pushing his pants down his thick thighs, shoving them far enough to reach his kneecaps. 
“Take out my cock. Let’s see how well I’ve trained your throat.”
You hooked your thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, giving them a good tug until his thick cock sprung free. It bobbed against his stomach, the reddened tip weeping with precum. Your hand came up to grip the girthy base, but Joel tutted in protest. 
“Hands behind your back, little flower.”
Clasping your hands at the base of your spine, you peered up at him with an eager expression. Joel arched a brow, waiting for you to comply and give him his request. Shuffling your knees forward, you dragged the tip of your tongue over the slit, lapping at the salty precum that dripped down. You peppered him with kitten kisses, your tongue tracing the veins on the underside of his cock. Joel rewarded you with a satisfied hum, bucking his hips forward until the head of his cock parted your lips wider. 
Dropping your jaw open, you welcomed each girthy inch of his cock into your warm mouth, the faint smell of his body wash mingling with his musky scent as you took him deeper. The moment the head of his cock brushed the back of your throat, you sputtered softly and felt the tears begin to well in your eyes as you squeezed them shut. 
Joel ripped himself from your mouth, his hand coming down to squish your cheeks together. 
“Keep your eyes open.”
“Yes, sir,” you said sheepishly. 
He released his grip on your face and adjusted himself back at your wet lips. Sucking in a deep breath, you wrapped your mouth around his cock once more. Joel jerked his hips forward, sending his cock to the back of your throat. You swallowed around him, keeping your tongue flat against the underside of his cock. Your nose brushed against the trimmed curls that framed his pubic bones, the hairs tickling your nose as he held you there. 
“I’m going to count to ten, little flower. Be a good girl, and show me how well you can take it.”
You nodded, your mouth suctioning tighter around him. Joel’s eyes darkened, his lips parted as he readied himself to count. 
“One,” he barked. 
You blinked away the tears springing in the corner of your eyes. You could do this; you had done it before. 
“Two.”
You unhinged your jaw, your senses invaded by his scent as you pressed further into his pubic hair. Somewhere between breaths, Joel counted three and four with a loud grunt, and you continued to focus on exhaling through your nose. 
“Five,” he gritted. 
The urge to gag around his cock grew harder to ignore, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. Your chin was coated in drool as you anticipated the next count, your eyes foggy as you stared up at him. Joel tilted his head, admiring how he stuffed every crevice of your mouth. 
“Six.”
“Seven.”
More saliva pooled in your mouth, and you hollowed your cheeks to avoid sputtering around him. Joel’s lips curled into a devilish smirk, and he nudged his pelvis closer until your nose smashed into his skin. You coughed around his length, the corners of your mouth dripping saliva onto your neck and chest. 
“Almost there, little flower. Doing so good for me,” he crooned. 
Joel brushed a finger over your throat, tapping the bulge protruding against your aching flesh. Eight and nine were a blur, your eyes barely staying open. Every flutter of your lashes garnered a dissatisfied tut from Joel, his body tense and throbbing with anger. 
“Ten,” he sighed. 
You tore away, coughing violently as you sucked in jagged breaths. Twisting your hands behind you, you squeezed your eyes shut to push the remainder of the tears down your cheeks. Joel wrapped a large hand around the base of his cock, stroking himself slowly and lazily. 
“Stick out your tongue,” he ordered. 
The words he said were far and few, which terrified you. Deep within yourself, you knew you had enraged him with your little act. It garnered no affection as you hoped, but he still gave you the attention you yearned for. Good or bad, you would take it. You would take anything he gave you. 
A trail of saliva, salty and thick, dripped from the point of your tongue as you did what he instructed. Joel rested the velvety skin of his balls against your mouth, the weight of them heavy on your tongue. You didn’t need his commands as you slipped one of his balls into your mouth. Above you, Joel shuddered and clenched his fists at his side. You worshiped each with equal measure, alternating between gentle caresses of your tongue and sloppy suctions of your mouth. 
“That’s it, little flower. Just like that,” Joel cooed. 
A desperate moan left your lips as you lapped up the salty wetness covering his silken sack, swallowing down the remnants of your drool. Joel pumped himself faster, the sound of his jagged breathing mixing with the lewd noises of your mouth. His release was nearing; you could sense it in the way his thick thighs flexed around your face. 
“Please,” you whined, your words muffled into the hair around his balls. 
Joel’s hand slowed around his length, his thumb brushing over the slit as more precum leaked out. Staring up at him helplessly, you waited for his release to paint your tongue. He gave you a stern look, nodding toward the bed. 
“Hands and knees. Now.”
“But—,” you protested. 
Joel smoothed his palm over your cheek before pulling back and delivering a sharp smack against your face. You jerked at the sting of his touch radiating through the layers of your skin. He undoubtedly left behind a reddened mark across your cheek and jaw. 
“You’ve already angered me once,” he warned. “Get on the fucking bed.”
Your knees scuffed against the ground as you scrambled onto the bed, situating yourself in the position he commanded. The unmistakable sound of the leather unsheathing from his pants ignited a new wave of fear through your body. Joel discarded it beside your face before coasting a hand down the center of your spine. 
“I’ll give you another chance to explain yourself,” Joel said. 
The bed dipped under his weight as he pressed a knee into the comforter beside you. You glanced over your shoulder, watching through teary eyes as Joel quickly unbuttoned his shirt. Dark chest hair scattered over his broad chest, spattered lower until it tapered into a thick trail down his pelvis. A thin sheen of sweat glistened over his golden skin as he discarded his shirt carelessly onto the ground. Careless…it wasn’t something you were used to with Joel. 
“I just wanted your attention,” you muttered, your head hanging between your shoulders. 
Joel tugged your braid, forcing your neck to crane backward. Despite the harshness of his words, his touch, his demeanor… your body throbbed with an unavoidable need. It throbbed at the apex of your sex, the lace rubbing against the slick that pooled between your thighs. Joel paid no attention to the way your legs shifted side to side, his unwavering stare penetrating you. 
“Do I not give you enough attention?” He questioned. 
“You do, sir,” you nodded, the strain on your neck growing uncomfortable. 
“Perhaps you don’t deserve attention at all,” he mused. 
He released his grip on your hair, your head falling forward and hanging low between your shoulders. Joel moved behind your body, his thick fingers tearing apart the lace hugging your ass. You yelped at the sheer force of it, the chill of the room skating up your bare sex. Joel’s fingertips traced over the back of your thigh, lingering close to the outline of your weeping pussy. Just one touch. That’s all you wanted—just one. 
His touch disappeared, leaving you whining and frustrated. Joel huffed a laugh before bringing two fingers to your mouth. 
“Suck. Get them nice and wet for me.”
You obliged, rolling your tongue over the thick digits as they pressed down into your mouth. He pulled them away, a web of drool connecting from the tip of your tongue to the pads of his fingers. Joel knocked your legs open further, and you waited in anticipation for his fingers to give you what you needed. Except, he didn’t. 
A gasp left your lips as he pushed the calloused skin of his fingertips against the tight ring of muscles above your slit. With one hand gripping your ass, Joel spread you wider, humming at the sight of you fully exposed. 
“Maybe you don’t deserve the attention you want. You’ll take what I give you, and you’ll thank me.”
“Please,” you whined. 
“No,” he growled. “Desperate little sluts don’t get what they want.”
Joel’s finger dipped into your clenching hole, prodding you open despite your whines of protest. It wasn’t the first time he used this way, but it felt different. It wasn’t kind. It wasn’t meant to be focused on your pleasure. He was determined to prove a point, and you would comply because you were so greedy for anything he could give. He pressed the second finger to your hole, stretching you wider as he pushed them to his second knuckle. Wider and wider, he stretched you, uncomfortable but not unwelcomed. 
“I see how wet you are, little flower. I know how greedy this pussy can get, but you know what? You don’t deserve it. This pussy doesn’t deserve my attention at all.”
“Sir!” You cried. 
“You’re going to take my cock in your ass like the pathetic whore you are,” he growled. 
Joel curled his fingers inside you, slipping them deeper until they were fully seated inside you. If you felt full now, it would be nothing compared to the way his cock would split you open. The sheer thought of it sent a shockwave to your clit, the aching bud pulsating painfully. Joel laughed at the way you squirmed underneath him, rewarding your cries with a jarring smack against your ass. Fuck, it hurt. 
Tearing his fingers from you, Joel disappeared from the bed and riffled through his nightstand drawer. You heard the familiar sound of the lube squirting into his hand and the rough breath of Joel as he realigned himself with your loosened hole. The initial intrusion of his cock sparred stars into your vision, the tip of his cock tearing you open. Even in his angered haze, Joel was slow—careful. 
“Breathe, little flower,” he urged.
You barely managed a full gulp of air before Joel bottomed out entirely. A scream erupted from your lips as you adjusted to his size, each inch of his length stuffed inside your tightening hole. Your body flexed and tensed under Joel’s touch, one hand pressing into your lower back, the other looping a finger through the plaits in your hair. Beneath him, you were helpless, entirely at his mercy for whatever he wanted. 
With a slow retraction of his hips, Joel snapped his hips forward hard enough to send your upper body into the comforter. The rugged momentum of his thrusts tore you apart; piece by piece, Joel diminished you into nothing but a hole for his use. 
“Greedy fucking whore,” Joel grunted, each thrust weighted and heavy inside you. “How’s it feel, huh? You love being used like this?”
“I love it, sir,” you cried. 
Joel pulled out to the tip, a heavy breath expelling from your mouth. He ripped into you again, resolving you into a heap of tears and shallow whimpers. His finger in your intertwined hair tightened, pulling your neck back until you had no choice but to connect with his piercing stare. With blown pupils and curled lips, Joel was the epitome of carnal rage. You did this. You spurred him into this embodiment of anger. 
“Is this enough for you, little flower?” He demanded. 
Arousal dripped between your legs, the snap of his balls against your clit radiating pleasure through your body. You writhed under his hold, a pleading cry leaving your mouth as you stared at him helplessly. Usually reserved and stoic, Joel’s emotions washed over his features, speaking louder than his words. You didn’t just anger him; you hurt him. You questioned his role as a dominant, which was an unspeakable thing to do. 
“Answer me!” He raged. 
“It’s enough!” You sobbed. 
Joel fucked you into abandon, your asshole sore and pained with every cantation of his hips. He was tearing you apart from the inside out, unrelenting and punishing. Your safe word balanced on the tip of your tongue, yet you withheld. You knew Joel would stop the moment you said the word, but you didn’t want him to. You wanted to prove you could be everything and more. You wanted to prove yourself until he wanted no other but you. 
The pulse between your legs was unbearable. You were stretched out and gaping around his cock, void of any chance of release. Joel knew how your body responded; he was aware of how your hole contracted and flexed around him. Yet, he gave you nothing. He wouldn’t. 
“Taking my cock so well, little flower,” he muttered between labored breaths. “Swallowing every inch of me.”
“Please, sir. Please, I want to cum,” you babbled. 
The sting of his palm against your ass was his response to your pleas, a simple gesture to shut you up. You took it, though your body buzzed with pleasure in every limb. 
“I know you do,” he crooned softly. “But you don’t get what you want. Only what I give you. So fucking take it.”
The world was caving around you, your vision blackening at the edges. Joel wound your braid over his fist and quickened his thrusts. Your body sagged into the bed, limp and pliant. Guttural sounds fell off Joel’s lips as he fucked you into the bed. Your ears deafened to the noise, your mouth hanging open and dripping spit into the soft bedspread beneath you. The erratic drive of his cock was the only warning you had to know he was close. Jagged, deep thrusts speared into you as Joel toppled over the edge with an animalist growl as he pumped his release into your fucked out hole. You twitched under his body, your knees slipping lower as your body gave out. 
Despite the haze inside your mind, your lips tipped up into a satisfied grin. He used your body just as he wanted, and you proved fealty to him—ardent, unwavering submission to the one man who wove his way into your heart. 
Joel pulled himself from you, slow and gentle, until the roll of his release was falling between your slit. You clenched around nothing, the tight ring of muscles aching painfully. He reached up to undo the silk bow holding your braid together, his fingers working through the soft waves as they floated over your back. 
“Little flower,” he whispered, kissing your sweat-coated spine. 
You flinched at his touch, not out of fear but of shock that still radiated through your muscles. You hadn’t fully returned to your mind, and Joel took notice. Working you onto your back, he roamed a hand over your breasts; his hand pressed firmly against the thrumming pulse of your heart. You stared up at him blankly, the tears now dried against your cheeks. What had been the face of cruelty only moments ago had now morphed into the soft, longing gaze you always yearned for. Joel’s pupils had returned to normal, the flecks of amber and rich chocolate boring into you with a look of concern. 
“Thank you, sir,” you whispered. 
He bent over you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fluttered close, relishing in the softness of his lips on your skin. You wanted this. You ached for it fiercely but could not form the words to beg for it.
“Stay here a moment,” he said. 
You lay against the bed, your limbs twitching as you rolled onto your side. Curling into yourself, you fought off the tremors still wracking through your muscles, a steady pulse rhythmically beating within your clit. Joel denied you your orgasm, which he never did. It was your punishment for wanting too much—a miscalculated attempt at proving your worth. 
The sound of running water drifted from the bathroom, followed by Joel’s heavy footsteps nearing the bed. With a quick unclasping of your bustier and a firm hand under your knees, Joel lifted you from the bed. You became weightless in his arms, cradling you to his sweaty chest. Wrapping a shaky arm around his shoulders, you rested your head inside the crook of his neck and exhaled an exhausted sigh. 
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly. 
The pungent aroma of lavender and vanilla tinged your nose as Joel guided you into the bathtub. Immediately, your muscles unwound in their tension, a relieving groan expelling from your lips. The heat of the water soothed your tender flesh, the bubbles running over your bare skin in small clusters. Joel was dedicated to aftercare, especially after rougher sessions with you. This was no different. He always remained beside the bathtub, soothing you with praise as you tipped further into its warmth.
You blinked up at him, giving him a tired smile. He gave you a silent nod, then motioned for you to slide forward. He never bathed with you. It wasn’t a rule, per se, but he never granted it to you. This was different—foreign. 
You slid your body as far as it could go, your knees pressed to your chest as Joel dipped into the water behind you. Hooking a strong arm around your abdomen, he pulled you flush with his body and dropped his mouth below the shell of your ear. 
“You chose to anger me today,” he muttered. “I need the honest truth as to why you did it.”
You twisted your face around to meet his steady gaze, your bottom lip quivering while you debated if the truth was worth voicing. 
“I wanted you to be possessive,” you admitted. “I wanted to know if you cared for me the way I care for you.”
Joel’s eyebrows raised slightly, the words shocking him.
“Of course, I care for you. Do I not show it well enough?”
“No—no, you do, sir. I just…I want to be the only one you care for.”
“You have been, little flower. There’s been no one else the entire time you’ve been with me,” he insisted. 
You turned your body around, your knees bruising against the tile as you cupped his face. Never had you been so vulnerable with Joel, but you needed him to see your desperation. You needed him to see how committed you were to your role in his life. 
“I want to be the only one,” you repeated. “I don’t want you to have another.”
Joel’s hands rested at the curve between your waist and hips, prodding your flesh soothingly. 
“Is that what you want, little flower?” He questioned. 
“It doesn’t matter what I want, sir. What matters is if it’s what you want.”
He pressed his forehead to yours, creases forming near his temple as he shut his eyes. Silence fell between you, so loud it fractured your heart. No answer was an answer. You failed in your attempts to prove yourself. You failed to make him want you more. He didn’t want you, no matter—.
“My sweet, little flower,” he sighed. 
Fresh tears slipped down your cheek, and you made no effort to swat them away. It was useless when you knew you lost the one thing you wanted the most. Joel brushed his lips against yours, and you let a muffled cry escape. 
“Rules can be rectified,” he started. “If this is something you wish, I’ll happily oblige.”
“Really?” You asked, pulling away. 
You studied him for any sign of doubt, any stolen glance that may prove his words a lie. But he looked at you with complete devotion, irrevocable certainty.
“I want you just as badly. All you had to do was ask. There was no need for defiance or jealousy.”
“I’m sorry, sir.”
“I think you’ve proven yourself more than enough today, little flower. Turn around so I can care for you properly.”
You slipped back into his warm embrace, your legs widening and pressed against his. Joel smoothed a hand down your stomach, his fingers tracing the swollen lips of your sex. You bucked into his hand, chasing the orgasm that still swam within your stomach. He drew slow, tantalizing circles over your soddened clit, muttering soft words into your ear. 
“Such a good girl,” he cooed. “I know what you need. I’ll take care of you.”
“Yes—yes,” you panted, arching into his touch. 
The pad of his finger pressed into the throbbing bud, the surging pleasure inside you growing agonizing. Bathwater sloshed around your body is rivulets, the push and pull of the waves crashing into the space where your skin didn’t touch. Closer and closer, he drove you to the edge until a delicious rapture tore through your body. Every muscle beneath your balmy skin seized upwards, a wail of relief echoing around the empty bathroom as you caved into your climax. 
“That’s it, little flower. So beautiful when you come undone for me,” Joel mumbled into your ear, his teeth nipping at the lobe. 
Shockwaves trembled over you as you slumped against his solid frame, your head falling back onto his shoulder. You had what you wanted. Body and soul, Joel granted your wish. Ecstasy wasn’t a strong enough word to describe the swelling inside your chest. 
“Stay with me. More than just the weekends. I’ll have your things brought here, and you can stay permanently,” Joel offered. “This house is rather lonely without you in it, anyway.”
“Okay,” you submitted, a grin stretching across your face. 
He was yours.
869 notes · View notes
starlost97 · 8 months
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— prettiest.
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summary: With Charles questionable dating history, you didn't want to risk getting into a relationship with someone with that reputation. He was, however, determined to change your mind. And when you did, he couldn't be happier.
tags: fluff, Charles Leclerc is a simp, f!reader.
characters: Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz Jr. (mentioned).
warnings: swearing.
a/n: pathetic men begging for a chance? yes please. also love u charles but u would never see a glimpse of any of my female friends <3 anyways don't take it too seriously! enjoy :)
word count: 461.
requested?: yes! by a friend.
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The world is a cruel place.
Charles, however, was the only one to blame in this situation.
He was also the only one that could fix it.
When you told him that despite your feelings for him, you wouldn’t date someone with such a questionable dating history, the driver was extremely sad. Everyone heard the jokes about how you can’t introduce your female friends to Charles, so why would you risk getting in a relationship with someone with that kind of reputation?
Well, the monegasque made sure to show you everything he had to offer.
Liking all your instagram photos, commenting on them — and making all their fans go wild in the process —, shamelessly staring at you — although that wasn’t really on purpose — when you appeared on screen. The world knew how obsessed he was with you.
He stopped going to parties. He only went to them when he knew you were there, and that was clear.
Charles didn't ask you out again for a long time, though. As if he had a plan to complete before allowing himself to bother you again.
But God, he was terrible at hiding how badly he wanted to take you out. To treat you just like you deserved. To turn all his adoration into worship.
He did last surprisingly long, however. It wasn't hard to exceed the expectations when they were that low. Even Carlos thought that he would last two days without telling you how much he loved you.
Well, he lasted four. And he was very proud of it.
“You're so beautiful.” He mumbled, staring adoringly at you. “Such a shame I didn't win you yet.”
“Yet?” You asked, smiling. “So full of confidence, aren't you?”
“How could I not be? I just made the prettiest girl in the world smile.” Charles said, stroking your cheek. “Come on, give me a chance. I'm starting to get desperate.”
“Sorry, starting?” You breathed out, starting to laugh.
“Alright, you got me. I'm desperate already. Hopelessly desperate.” Charles said, feeling butterflies only with your laugh.
You two stared at each other's eyes for some time, sharing adoration.
“You better not make me regret this, Leclerc.” You mumbled, getting up from the couch and walking away.
Charles was quick to grab your hand and pull you to himself. Your faces were now close to each other, and you could feel his quick heartbeat against your chest.
“I swear that you won't.” He said, closing the gap between you and kissing your lips, feeling as relief filled him. “Fuck, how can your kiss be so sweet?”
He stared at you in disbelief. He indeed just kissed perfection, didn't he?
“I might have to kiss you again and again to find out, pretty girl.”
2K notes · View notes
ncttytrack · 7 months
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perv!bestfriend!jake who ends up fucking you one day after you catch him stealing yout panties😻
This scenario 😵‍💫
Pantie stealer! - s.j
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He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty.
Genre: perv!bestfriend!jake x reader
Words: 3,8k+
Warnings: Jake is a massive perv, creampie, shocking, Dom!jake, sub!reader, lowkey size kink
⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆ ⋆ ˚。⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚。⋆
You and your best friend Jake have always been very close and your friendship started way back when you were eight years old. Your family had just moved in next door and you decided to invite Jake’s family over for dinner to welcome the new neighbors. You and Jake clicked instantly, enjoying the same tv-shows, games, movies, sports - everything, and you have been friends since then. After school you always hung out, ignoring the classmates making fun of you both and calling you a couple, they didn’t know your friendship. Jake was in your eyes only a friend - nothing more, nothing less.
But everything changed when you both hit puberty, the teenage hormones completely taking over your body. Jake clearly remembers the first day he thought you were attractive, and much more than a just friend. Yes, as kids he always thought you were cute, referring you to his other friends as the “cute girl next door”, but now it was different.
He was at the ripe age of sixteen, and just invited you over to chill out by his pool with his other friends. The sun was shining bright, and it was the middle of July, making the weather extra hot - perfect for a cooling pool day. He remembers laying down on a sunbed, watching his friends, Sunghoon and Jay, play in the pool, when you suddenly catch his eye in the corner. He watched as you slowly pulled off your t-shirt and unbuttoned your shorts, showing off a bright blue bikini with spaghetti straps.
The last time he saw your body was the year before, and he could confidently say that a lot had happened since then. His eyes scanned your body, from your much bigger boobs, down to your ass - filling out the bikini bottom you were wearing perfectly. And the straps of the bikini top were tied at the front, and only a weak tugg would let your boobs loose, exposing what he at that moment so desperately wanted to see.
“Damn, seems like your friend have grown up the last time I saw her”, said Heeseung, leaning down on his sunbed beside him - using his elbows to push himself up to get a clear view of your frame. Jake could feel the embarrassment by the warmth of his cheeks, not liking how his friend talked about you, pushing Heeseung away. “Man, shut up”.
But he was right, you had grown up. You had actually grown up a lot, and since then, it has been difficult for Jake to be around you.
As Jake was eye fucking you by the pool, trying not to make it obvious (even though everyone could see the massive bulge forming under his swimshorts), you did the same. It’s not like you were any different, noticing how Jake's soft baby stomach turned to chiseled abs over the years when watching him lay down on his sunbed. When you got eye contact, you looked away, trying to distract yourself by jumping into the pool to play with his friends.
Jake tried not to be a perv, but always failed miserably, until he couldn’t stop himself anymore. Always trying to catch glances through the door crack when you showered at his place, feeling his dick twitch when he saw the way you massaged the soap on your tits - watching the soap glide down your body to your core. Purposely dropping something to the floor, making you bend in front of him to pick it up, making it possible for him to shamelessly look at your ass in those short-shorts you always wore during the summers. Jerking off to you almost every night, trying to imagine you in cute lingerie, black ones, screaming his name for more. “Jake, Jake!”
Now you were both older, in your twenties to be exact, and you didn’t live with your parents anymore. Because you and Jakes are both broke college students, you decided to live in an apartment together, since you had been friends for such a long time and it possibly couldn’t get weird between the two of you. But, this has only been more difficult for Jake, and being around you 24/7 is slowly driving him crazy. You had become very comfortable in your new shared apartment, walking around almost naked, just wearing those cute underwear sets he had imagined all those years ago.
His perverted actions continued because of this, sneakily taking pictures of your almost naked frame to either save for later, or to send to his other friends to brag about his hot roommate walking around in only underwear. “Dude I’m so jealous, if I were you I would have already fucked the shit out of her by now”. He looked at the text Sunghoon sent him. If he could decide, then yes, you would’ve already been leaking with his cum by now. But he can’t, he can’t ruin the friendship you have shared for so long.
But you’ve made it impossible for Jake to not act out his dirty thoughts, and that is the situation Jake happens to be in now.
While laying on his bed palming himself by the thought of you, he figured that jerking off to only the thought of you was simply not enough. He needed something from you, something that could help him get off, something…like your cute panties you always wore. He could describe them to the letter, they were black, which happened to be his favorite color, lace panties with a little bow at the front. The panties hugged your figure perfectly, showing the exact right amount of ass for him to get hard. He knew what he had to do.
It was 2 am, and he quietly sneaked into your bedroom, being extra careful to not wake you up. As he walked to your drawer, he watched your sleeping figure. “Cute” You looked so peaceful, and he almost began to feel guilty for what he was about to do. But he was more horny than guilty, shamelessly opening the first drawer to immediately find your black lace panties. His hand begins to touch the fabric, rubbing it against his long fingers, and immediately his cock hardens at the feeling.
He couldn’t stop himself, hastily bringing up the fabric to his nose, smelling the detergent - letting the smell fill him up. He let out a shaky breath from the smell. You had washed them, it’s a shame they weren't dirty. Without getting caught, he sneaked out of your bedroom and entered his own over the hall.
That night was arguably the best night of his life, using your panties to jerk himself off. First he would lay them on top of his face, closing his eyes imagining you sitting on his face, before grabbing the black laced panties and wrapping it around his cock. “Fuck, y/n” The feeling of the soft lace against his hard, swollen, cock was all it took for him to shoot the fattest load of cum - making the fabric completely soaked. But that wasn’t enough for him to get off, the sight of your drenched panties making his cock hard again, so hard that it almost began to hurt.
His dick was already sore, hurting when just softly touching the tip, making Jake let out a hiss from pain. As he did before, he wrapped your panties and wrapped it around his cock, carefully jerking it up and down. It was so painful, but also felt so good, letting out moans while tears streamed down his face.
He felt so disgusting for this, imagining that it was you he fucked, and not your panties. Imagining that you were on all fours, desperately crying and screaming for him to fuck you harder, deeper, faster, until beeing compleatly filled with his cum - watching it leek out from your used up hole. He could even imagine what you would taste like, bringing up your panties to his mouth and imagine that his cum was yours, sucking and licking the fabric. Just that though, that taste, made him cum again, and once more after that, before being too tired to continue.
It was the next afternoon, around 6pm, and Jake was heading home from campus to his apartment. You didn’t have any lessons that day, and decided to stay home to do some chores before Jake gets back. Jake has been acting weird lately, maybe something was bugging him? To be a nice roommate, you wanted to do something nice for Jake, opening his bedroom door to tidy up his dirty room.
It looked like a mess, dirty clothes everywhere on the floor and his bed was far from tidy. Couldn’t he at least make his bed before he headed to college? Or did he use the argument that he was still going to sleep on it later, so why make the bed anyway?
After throwing his dirty clothes away in the laundry basket in his room, you walked up to his bed to tidy it up. As you lifted one of his pillows you were met with an astounding sight. Under his pillows were your panties, and your favorite pair too, covered in white stains. Omg…did he steal your panties? You picked them up and immediately knew what Jake had done with them.
The white stains were his cum. He had used your panties to get himself off, and probably more than once by the looks of it. The, still wet, panties were way too distracting for you to hear Jake coming home, getting surprised when he suddenly opens the door to his bedroom.
When he saw you, holding the thing he thought he hid good enough for you to not find it, he panicked. “Y/n… what are you doing?” You looked back at Jake, and then at the panties you were holding once more. You let out a chuckle “What am I doing? No, Jake, what are you doing? Are these my panties?” He gulped down the saliva that was forming in his mouth out of nervousness. Fuck, what have I done.
He never answered, just stared at you nervously. “Did you- you- jerk off using my panties”. You couldn’t help but to feel the arousal between your legs by the thought of him wrapping your lace panties around his hard pulsating cock, letting out soft groans - probably thinking about you while doing it. Subconsciously you clench your thighs together at this thought, something that Jake noticed.
The sudden smirk forming on Jake's face by the sight of your clenching thighs didn’t go unrecognized by you, immediately backing away from him when he suddenly walked closer to you. “Maybe I did, do you like that? The thought of me jerking off with your cute little panties, hm?”
You didn’t recognise the Jake you have always known in front of you, but this new, discovered, version of him sure did turn you on. His eyes were dark, hooded, and he licked his lips by the sight of your nervous figure. Still walking away from him, you felt the edge of his bed by your knees, falling down by Jake pushing you to your back. He doesn't waste a single second before towering over you, putting his leg between your knees to tease your core. The feeling sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, letting out a small whine from your mouth - but still loud enough for Jake to hear.
“You don’t know how long I've wanted this y/n, to trap you underneath me”. He leaned down to your hair, smelling it to fill him with the scent of your shampoo. “Mm, you smell sooo good baby” The action sends shivers through your spine, and hearing the pet name makes you wetter than what you even were before. You never knew how much of a pervert your life-time friend was, even getting a boner by the smell of your hair.
“J-jake, what are you doing” you say, trying to make sense of what is happening right now. Your body is already trembling by his words, and his leg is pushing harder and harder against your core. The smirk on his face grows wider when he feels the wet patch on your underwear against his leg. Thank god you were wearing a cute short skirt, without stockings even, making it so easy for him to feel you up. It’s as if you were asking for it.
“Oh, you know what I’m doing y/n, and by the looks of it it seems like you want me to continue”, Jake says while pushing his leg up even further against your pussy. Not thinking rationally anymore, you begin to grind your hips against his jeans, arching your back when the harsh fabric rubs against your clothed clit. He lets out a chuckle at the sight, he had no idea you could be this desperate.
He suddenly grabs your jaw with his hand, forcing you to look at him - still rubbing yourself against his leg. “Look at you, just begging to get fucked”, he says and pouts his lips at you, his other hand sneaking up to your waist, and up your shirt. You feel his cold hand against your warm skin under your shirt, slowly creeping up towards your boobs, only to slide down to your stomach again. He was such a tease, so close to giving you what you want, but not doing anything before you actually give him your word.
“If you want to fuck me that bad then just do it, Jake” you say, trying to sound as demanding as possible, though failing when the feeling of his hand grabbing your boob makes you let out a loud whine. The sound, mixed with the sight, makes Jake so hard it’s almost painful.
"Yeah?, Do you want me to? Want to get stuffed with Jakey's cock?” As he says this, he suddenly lifts your whole body up with his hands, and replaces his leg with the bulge in his pants. It’s then you finally can feel him. Just by the feeling alone, you know it’s big, probably already leaking with preecum ready fuck you dumb.
“You are such a pervert Jake”, you say while Jake lifts up your shirt, taking it off your body to see more of you. He licks his lips, finally seeing your boobs without a bra, and leans down to wrap his head around your nipple. The feeling of his soft tongue licking and sucking your sensitive bud, occasionally using his teeth to make it more painful, makes you let out a cry, automatically grabbing his hair. You can feel the smirk on his lips against your nipple, “Oh, yeah?”
You wrap your legs around his waist to bring him closer to you, completely letting this feeling of arousal take over you. “Yeah, you are, sneaking into my room, taking my panties, you are so-” he sneaks his hand under your skirt and presses it against your clit, making you unable to finish your sentence. “sooo dirty, I know, but you love it don’t you?, say the words and I will give it to you.”
You look up at the man in front of you and you can’t believe this is happening right now. This is the same Jake you have known since you were eight, the same Jake you always talked to about other boys, the same Jake you shared everything with. And now he is on top of you, making you beg for his cock. Fuck he is hot right now, looking down at you like you are nothing but his play thing. His sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead, his mouth is agape, letting out heavy breaths from the feeling of his clothes dick against the wet path forming in your underwear.
“Please, Jake”. He looks down at you with a smirk on his face before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss is rough, as if you both have waited for this moment forever, and it doesn't take long before he pushes his tongue into your mouth. You let him take over you completely, letting him be incharge of what he wants to do and therefore when he pushes you tongue so deep inside your mouth you almost choke, you just take it. As he pulls away from you he grabs your neck, squeezing it. “Fuck you look so cute with my hand around your neck, baby”
While his hand is still on your neck, he uses his other to unbutton his pants and pulls them down alongside his boxers. The sight of his massive cock makes your mouth water. It’s not only massive in length but also in girth, and the tip is red and already leaking with preecum. You can’t wait anymore, pulling down your skirt to throw it on floor.
The sight of your soaked underwear is sending Jake over the edge, almost cuming in his pants by the way you are leaking. He brings his hands down to your clothes pussy, before tugging the fabric harshly upwards against your core. You let out a loud whine, desperately grinding yourself against the fabric, hiding your face behind your hands out of embarrassment. Because of this, Jake slaps the side of your thigh, making you scream out of pain. “Don’t cover your face, baby, I want to see you” You follow his demands, lifting your hands up from your face and instead grab his shoulders.
He leans down towards your panties, using his teeth to pull them down. “I’m saving these for later” He says and licks his lips, while bringing the fabric up to his nose to smell your panties in front of you. You let out a gasp “J-Jake!”, trying to grab the panties from him. “Ah-ah” Jake says, before throwing them on his night stand before you could stop him.
Before you could complain any further, he brought his cock down to your entrance, dragging the tip up and down against your pussy. He clenches his jaw trying to not push himself inside of you this instant, wanting to tease you enough first until you finally beg for him to go further.
The feeling of his hard cock grinding against your sore clit, makes your head spin, and you want more, pushing your hips up and down - grinding on his length. Jake looks down at you. You look so cute like this, his hand still around your throat, eyes completely shut from the pleasure, pleasure from the way you grind on his cock.
Tears are starting to form in your eyes when it takes too long for Jake to take it one step further. You are so close, but this is still not getting enough to reach your high. He almost laughs at your face when seeing how close you are, desperately trying to cum, but simply can’t before getting stuffed by his cock.
“J-jake, please just fuck me already!” He bites his lips, finally getting the words he always wanted. He uses his hand to push your body down, forcing you to stop grinding against his cock, before grabbing your hips with both of his hands. “You could’ve just said so, pretty”
The feeling of your warm pussy wrapping around Jake's cock, makes him throw his head back. Fuck. It felt so good, feeling you clench around him. And by the looks of it, you felt good too, letting out small moans from the way his cock stretches you out perfectly. He looks down at your stomach, and almost let out a whine from the sight of the bump. He can see his cock inside of you. One of Jake’s hands leaves your hip to come in contact with your stomach, his palm pushing down against the soft skin to feel his cock inside your stomach.
“Say my name” He says, still not moving, probably until you do as he says. You are shaking underneath him, and the only thing you want him to do is to fill you up completely. “Jake” He lets out a shaky breath from the way you say his name, string to pull out of your pussy - getting ready to fuck into you again. “Yeah, baby, one more. Can you do that for me?” He says, almost begging you at this point.
“Jake-!” you scream out his name as he slams into you, already pulling in and out of you at a fast pace. The hold on his shoulders gets stronger, trying your hardest to not collapse underneath him. The speed Jake fucks you almost rips you apart, and by the sight of your tears streaming down your face makes Jake let out a groan. “Fuck, y/n, you are mine, understand that? My own little cum slut” he says, not slowing down one bit, already starting to get closer to his release.
“Your cum slut, only yours!” the way he fucks you have turned you into a animal, and the thought of this being your best friend is long gone by now. Jake only fucks you harder after hearing your words, bringing his hand down to your clit to rub it - knowing it feels good for you. And oh it does, the feeling of his harsh fingers against your soft bud makes you scream out his name.
"J-Jake! I’m close-” you scream as Jake lifts up your legs on his shoulders, making him fuck into you even deeper. “Yeah? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock”. His words send shivers through your whole body, and you do as he says, cuming all over his cock. Him not being done with you, he still fucks into you, overstimulating you to the max before finally cuming as well.
He looks down at your pussy, and it’s completely drenched, juices still leaking out from your fucked up hole. He has to taste you. Before you could stop him, he leans down to your soaked pussy, tasting your cum mixed with his own on his taste buds. “Mm, you taste so good, baby”. He grabs your thighs, pulling you closer to his warm mouth, not letting you leave, wanting to lick up all your juices before he was done.
Before almost making you cum for the second time by his mouth, he pulls away to look at you. You had never been so beautiful, laying completely ruined on his bed and your body is wet from the sweat and the cum. Your big teary eyes look up at him, “That-that was amazing, Jake” You say, giving him a weak smile, making his dick twitch.
He leans down to kiss your forehead, patting the top of your head. “Good for you that this isn’t the last time we are doing this then.” He says before laying beside you on his bed, pulling your naked body into his.
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kookslastbutton · 6 months
Text
Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter ii
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✒ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.
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pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader
genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love
Word count: 4.5k
Warnings: oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, fighting, confrontation, tornado of emotions, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, public shaming (both direct and indirect), morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of abandonment issues, mentions of therapy, attempts to self-regulate but reader is pissed, mentions of self-blame though oc knows its not entirely her fault, mentions of defamation charges, JK is just 🤬 while KTH is 😇
playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.
a/n: Woah okay....so had I fun writing this, even though it took me a hella long time to decide whether to continue the story as a series or not 🫣 Anyway I altered the summary slightly from chapter one (and updated for consistency purposes), but it doesn't change my overall plans! As you read this chapter, I hope you will be able to see my vision (I'm nervous af! haha)! Enjoy 🥰 (edited but pls forgive me for any oversights...my typos are ridiculous)
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You’re seated in a wide sofa chair, surrounded by four blank walls, and the gentle sound of water tricking from a faux rock waterfall. Every element of the space is carefully integrated as a means to calm you. Yet it doesn't calm you in the slightest. Your hands are clammy. Muscles tense with the adrenaline spiking through your veins. It doesn’t help that you’ve been running on nothing but black coffee all week either, refusing to eat until the first promo shoot with your company’s new endorser was launched.
A natural in front of the camera, Kim Taehyung was able to speed the process up, yet it didn’t stop the massive dark circles from forming under your eyes. This morning, he'd told you they were unnoticeable but you've seen how you look in the mirror, and they're anything but unnoticeable. Still, you find his gesture to soothe sweet. Thankfully, your new partnership has been smooth sailing which is quite a blessing considering the disaster he nearly walked into.
Yes. You’re referring to that disaster in particular. When, in some desperate last-minute attempt for validation, you threw yourself into the arms of your ex-husband.
More like fixed the collar of his shirt and whoops, slid right on his dick…again.
What is wrong with you?
You’ve been asking yourself the question far too many times. You’d think being a hot-shot CEO of a million-dollar tech company would make you like titanium, resilient as finely pounded steel but no; you're just barely keeping yourself together. You regret your rash decision that day, you regret ever marrying Jeon Jungkook, and you regret ever giving in to your stupid feelings.
That’s why you’re here now, waiting in the office of your therapist’s private practice, hands restless in your lap. You’ve been seeing Melody for just over two months since your divorce was finalized, ready to move on; trying to, more like.
‘JeonX CEO Jeon Jungkook’s ex-wife compensated $1.8 billion in divorce’
‘South Korea’s Golden It couple split with ex-wife taking half the company revenue’
These are the lovely words that greet you from your phone screen.
You have the urge to grab your special red ballpoint pen from your bag and scribble out the entire paragraph, except it’s not a printed gossip magazine— it’s a newspaper column on the internet. Instead, you close out the pesky tab on your phone and reply to its sender.
Chim 🐥: can you believe this crap they’re saying about you?! It's no shit you were given a hefty divorce settlement. You brought in half the income! They’re making you look like some kind of gold digger. I swear if I ever lay my eyes on that pretty ex-husband of yours, I will end him! 😡 [sent at 5:06 pm]
Park Jimin, your childhood best friend, sends you a follow-up text when you don’t immediately reply to the news articles he forwarded over. He’s been extremely overprotective of you lately and especially pissed at how the media’s been portraying you, while Jungkook is seemingly getting a free ride. He’s always had an axe to grind with your ex-husband, to be honest, the divorce gives him only more reason to hate him.
You: Thanks for your concern Chim, but nothing they say surprises me anymore. If you don’t mind, can you stop sending these to me? [sent at 5:12 pm]
You hope your message doesn’t read as cold or dismissive. Jimin’s concern for you is a light in a dark place, but you don’t really want to be reminded of the amount of slandering articles still targeted towards you.
Gone are the days when the public saw you as a powerful woman in business, the one to watch, or the CEO of the fastest-growing startup in the last ten years. You're now simply Jeon Jungkook’s conniving ex-wife; as if you’ve merely seduced him for his money and ran when the going was good.
Of course, the whole situation is skewed to his side; half the world is in love with him after all, and that includes the few lingering reporters who've been practically salivating three feet from you at any given chance, hoping to get an exclusive “inside look”. Your marriage was a sham, you wanted to scream, a mutual business transaction.
Too bad rather than an increase in status, resources, and market share, you gained a pile of twisted, unwarranted emotions and regrets.
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“I apologize for the wait Ms. __."
The door swings open as your therapist rushes into the room. She stops at her desk to retrieve last week’s session notes, then takes a seat in the chair adjacent to you with crossed legs.
“It’s okay,” you assure, straightening your posture. “I understand how crazy busy the day can get. It wasn't a long wait anyway."
Melody gives a small smile and jots a few words on her notepad. “Thank you for understanding. How are you doing this week?”
You take a deep breath. "Tired," you respond, "especially this week at work. It's like as soon as I wrap up one project, there's another jumping out from nowhere." You used to be ahead of the game. Now you're barely surviving.
"That's right," she hums. "Last week you mentioned having to attend a charity gala soon. Would you like to start there today?"
Crap, you're suddenly reminded that you have to pick up your gown by 7 pm tonight. You entertained the idea of not going to the gala at all, but that would do you no favors in the end. Given your situation, you can't skip out on such an important charity event.
"Sure," you nod. "The Winter Gala's tomorrow night, actually. It's funny how I used to look forward to it every year, being an opportunity to network and catch up with my peers. I can't say I feel the same thrill this time around."
"Because of the divorce you mean?"
"Exactly. Being the CEO of one of the largest software corporations in the world, my ex-husband's influence far exceeds my own. So whether out of loyalty or political agenda, anyone who's anyone will be on his side of the room. I'm gonna end up being that one awkward person in the corner in a far too expensive Dior gown who no one wants to dance with." You nervously chuckle out the last sentence.
Melody opens her mouth to respond, yet stops when she notices you're not quite finished.
"It'll be the first time seeing my ex-husband after months of no contact too. I guess that's what I'm looking forward to the least."
When you think about it, the most you've seen of Jungkook is his face appearing on the massive screens downtown. He's been featured in at least a dozen interviews lately, teasing a brand-new product his company's planning to release in the spring. Seems he's doing well.
"What you feel is valid Ms. __." Melody seeks to assure you. "In the past, you used to go to these events with Jungkook right? He provided you with a sense of safety, as you did for him, no doubt. I wonder if it's a lack of consistency and belonging that worries you, more than it is about seeing your ex-husband and your peers. Companionship too, of course."
"I suppose that makes sense, but it never used to be this way." Your voice raises to match your sudden argumentativeness. "I used to be very comfortable in my own skin. I used to be confident going to these events alone, long before Jungkook came into the picture."
You pause to take a breath before continuing.
"When Jungkook became CEO of his family's software company, JeonX, he was steps away from being bought out by both our competitors, so a partnership was proposed. We married at 27 as nothing more than two ambitious, rising leaders in business. Neither of us was after love or romance when our careers were at stake."
"But then that changed for you," your therapist carefully observes. "Combined, you both held the largest share of the tech market. You and Jungkook were also in an extremely intimate relationship, yet treated it as a business contract. Unfortunately, those don't always come out clean in the wash. It appears to me that while you gave him three honest years of your life, he stole those three years from you."
The words take a moment to sink in; Jungkook stole three years from you. It conflicts with what you want to believe, though from the bottom of your heart, you know she's right.
"I feel so...guilty. I hate that I fell for him, and I hate that I'm struggling this much to let him go." As you tear up, Melody hands you a tissue from the side table with an empathetic gaze. You mouth a thank you and gently dab your eyes with the soft fabric.
"I'd give yourself some grace Ms. __. But if I may ask, what about Jungkook?" she gently probes. "Do you think he feels the same?"
"No...," you say with remorse, shaking your head. "He's moved on."
Melody remains silent for as long as you need in the moments following, cautious to follow your lead. The last thing a therapist should do is rush their patient through the session, so she sits patiently and waits for your go.
"Sorry," you finally say. "We should continue."
"No need for apologies," she replies. "Take your time."
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It takes a good minute or two longer of sitting in your car before you can fully compose yourself. As usual, your session with Melody was intense and insightful, but it was far too short. You're gripping the wheel with both hands when her final words of the session echo through your head: "Give yourself some grace; blaming yourself won't do any good."
Seemingly simple advice, yet tough to follow when you constantly feel responsible for the mess you're in. Yes, even though Jungkook has the bigger end of the stick, you made your share of mistakes too. You should have looked into other options when you found out your competitors were looking to buy out JeonX instead of eloping with their CEO.
Just what were you thinking __? you harshly scold yourself. You were trying to protect your company. You both were. Too bad you placed the cart in front of the horse.
Forcing yourself to take a slow, deep breath, your eyes widen in alarm when you catch the time on the clock— 6:38 pm. Fuck! The boutique that's holding your gown for tomorrow's gala is closing in twenty minutes. Without a moment to spare, you yank the seatbelt and slam your foot on the gas.
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"Good evening Ms. __." A young woman, fitted in a black pencil skirt and white blouse, greets you with a faint bow as soon as you step foot into the posh boutique.
"Hello, Hana," you refer to the young lady by name with a smile. "I'm terribly sorry to be coming in this late. I came by to pick up the gown I sent in for alterations two weeks ago. The event's tomorrow and I know the shop will be closed for the day."
Knowing the exact dress you're referring to, Hana responds with a soft tone, "Please don't worry Ms. __. We have the gown ready." She disappears to the back of the shop to retrieve it.
As you wait, your mind drifts to memories of last year's gala. You had worn a vibrant, gold gown that evening, slightly risky with a low neckline. Jungkook liked it though, as he wore a matching gold vest himself. You can imagine how crazy the press went when you both set foot on the scene, arms linked and appearing to have coordinated your attire perfectly.
Every investor at the gig wanted to be your friend that night, anxiously pushing through the crowds to speak to you. One of them nearly split your dress in two, as he had accidentally stepped on your gown after one too many drinks. You recall Jungkook scolding the man before turning his full attention to you, making sure you were alright. You consider this to be the first time you truly started looking at him as your husband, a feeling of warmth blooming inside you.
How foolish you were to let that feeling grow.
You're attending the gala alone this year, without him.
Possessing no desire to call attention to yourself this year, you've chosen a rich, navy blue gown instead. It's subtle yet sophisticated. Made out of the finest silk, its silhouette is sleek and falls straight down to the floor without any extravagant frills. The neckline is simple too, paired with a tasteful open back. There are no flashy accessories or embellishments, just a straightforward, classic design. You find the gown beautifully elegant, and nowhere near as bold as your previous one.
"Here it is Ms. __," Hana chips from afar, her heels clacking against the polished floor tiles. In her hand is a generously sized garment bag, your dress flowing underneath.
"Thank you so much, Hana," you say, taking the gown from her hand. "Again, I'm sorry for my tardiness picking this up. I hope you have a wonderful night."
You leave the boutique, the sun having already set.
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The Winter Gala takes place on the top floor of Seoul's most luxurious hotel, specifically in its grand ballroom. The walls are adorned with gold trim, and its floors are elegantly lined with polished black marble. Above, a magnificent glass chandelier glimmers, catching the moonlight filtering through the surrounding glass windows.
Despite being a private event, the gala attracts a whole slew of press and locals who eagerly gather on either side of the hotel's front doors, treating it as a prime spot for viewing the red carpet.
Physically, you're ready; dressed to the nines, and makeup done just right. Mentally, you're absent; secretly sipping a margarita at the end of the earth, wherever that is. The day finally comes for you to make an appearance at the Annual Winter Gala and it's clear, you're not prepared in the slightest.
Your nerves consume you as you sit in the backseat of your limousine. You protested against being dropped off at the front entrance. Hell, you hadn't even wanted to arrive in a limo. However, your PR team insisted you be seen arriving, happy to be supporting a charitable event for the eighth year in a row.
Reluctantly, you complied.
Chim 🐥: I wish I could be there with you tonight 😞 No matter what, don't let those snobs get into your head. You look stunning and you have nothing to be ashamed of! [sent at 6:23 pm]
"Thank you, love," you whisper to aloud upon reading your best friend's endearing message. Before you can craft a reply, your door is flung open, with harsh flashes of cameras blinding you. When you step out of the limo, you hear a mix of passionate cheering and interrogative remarks.
"Ms. __, could you share with us your experience of attending the gala without Jeon Jungkook by your side for the first time?"
"Ms. __, it's unexpected to see you here this year, especially considering your recent separation from your ex-husband, who is also on the guest list!"
"Ms. __, how do you plan to navigate the evening's festivities without the familiar presence of your former partner?"
Just keep walking __. If you can just get inside the building and tune out the noise, you'll be fine. You coach yourself with every step, but make little progress with the amount of discomfort only skyrocketing. Your photos are being taken, and questions barrage you from all angles. To top it off, you feel a strong migraine coming on and oh fuck— is that the devil now?
You don't have to glance back to guess the sudden increase in cheering is due to the arrival of another hot A-lister. It has to be Jungkook with a new woman by his side. You think he wouldn't bring a date to an event like this, even if she were a hire? You'd be horribly mistaken.
You fight against the urge to turn around and confirm if your suspicions are true.
"__!" a voice calls out, which you ignore.
But wait a minute.
You stop in your tracks—that's not Jungkook's voice at all; it’s far too raspy.
Peeking over your shoulder, your jaw falls open as you see Kim Taehyung steps behind you wearing a boxy grin on his face. He's dressed to the hills with a shiny maroon, Louis Vuitton suit hugging his slim waist. Quite handsome, per usual, but what is he doing here?
Taking the initiative, Taehyung strides next to you and waves to the crowd charismatically. “My movie shoot wrapped up early so I thought I’d swing by and see what all the excitement’s about,” he says.
You observe how easy it is for him to appease the crowd, a skill you’re still working to sharpen.
“Tae-” you begin.
He then turns to you and looks straight into your eyes. You shiver at from the sudden intensity.
“I got an invitation too, and the gala happens to support a cause that I find close to my heart.” His voice lowers for the next part, allowing only your ears to hear. “I also didn’t want you having to be alone this evening, __. I hope I didn’t overstep my boundaries.”
Taehyung’s words manage to coax you away from your previously frazzled state, comforting you as the chaos quiets around you.
“Thank you, Taehyung. You didn’t, don’t worry,” you reply, giving a tight-lipped smile. “It’s actually a good thing you came since you’re basically the second face of my company after all.”
“I’m happy to hear that. We’ve been working so well together recently, and I don’t want to ruin it. May I?” He offers you an arm.
“You may.” You slip your arm into his and continue towards the hotel entrance. You admit you’re glad to see him.
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With Taehyung nearby, your apprehensions of the night start to subside. He’s not always beside you, slipping away to mingle often, yet his mere presence relaxes you. You haven’t even thought about Jungkook to be honest. Well, maybe a little bit.
You take a sip of the drink in your hand and casually scan the ballroom until bingo, you spot your ex-husband by the bar in the middle of half a dozen people. Figures he’s the center of attention, effortlessly tethering people to himself. Jungkook loves the spotlight, and the spotlight loves him. As you continue watching him from across the room, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions swirls within you; longing, sorrow, anger. You haven't seen him in over two months, it feels surreal.
Memories of your time together come flooding back all at once—both the good and the bad, yet mostly bad. It's strange how someone you were once so close to can suddenly feel like a stranger. You allow your gaze to linger a moment longer, curious to conclude a date is nowhere in sight. Perhaps you’re mistaken and they’ve merely slipped away for a second. You’re positive he would’ve brought someone.
Bitterly, you gulp down another sip of your drink. When you place your glass down, you nearly choke at the sight of Jungkook's dark eyes burning holes at you. You avert your gaze immediately, silently begging that he didn’t just witness you staring at him and take it as an unsolicited invitation to come over.
“So,” a provocative voice unexpectedly slides next to you. “Looks like you just traded one bachelor for the next __. I’m shocked to see you’ve shown up to our little soirée.”
Oh god, you roll your eyes, recognizing the owner of the slithery voice like the back of your hand. You do not have the stamina for this tonight.
“Kathy," you greet with the fakest, yet sweetest smile possible. "Nice seeing you again. I haven't seen you since last year. How's the baby?"
"Oh please," she scoffs. "Don't try to deflect, sweetie. We both know it's you who is of far more... intrigue. If you understand my gist."
You want to hurl at this woman's condescending tone. Nothing gets under your skin more than someone your age calling you sweetie. It's not endearing in the slightest, especially when it's Kathy Lee, Director of CommaTen. You despise each other, likely because you both hit it big in the industry at a young age. Meeting someone who reminds you so closely of yourself isn't always a blessing.
“Anyway, as I was saying," she continues, brushing her hair behind an ear. "I have quite the bone to pick with you about stealing that actor from me. Kim Taehyung was mine first, you know."
Hers? She speaks as if a person can be owned. You won't lie, you're surprised Taehyung agreed to partner with you at a time when most of Seoul's elites have turned against you. You're naive to assume that his support wouldn't backfire on his reputation. On the other hand, he's been your endorser for two months now and his following remains fully intact.
“To be frank, I didn't know the two of you were talking business at all," you respond to the accusations with composure, though burning up inside. "But of course, he's free to make his own decisions, can't he? Whatever the reason, something must have enticed him."
“You—" Offended by your insinuation that your offer was better than hers, Kathy doesn't stop what comes next. "We both know the only reason why Kim Taehyung's with you is because Jungkook left you! And you need the extra publicity, isn't that right?"
Fuck. Well, now you're really fucking embarrassed because, at that moment, everyone in the room shifts their attention your way. A pin drop could be heard in the entire ballroom since even the live band ceased their playing.
This is why you didn't want to come. Your fingers fumble with the fabric of your gown.
“Don't act like you're above me just because your company might be worth more than mine, __. We'll catch up with you soon," Kathy spits her final words before spinning around and triumphantly walking away.
Don't cry, you tell yourself. Everyone's staring at you; the press, your peers, Jungkook, and Taehyung. Don't you dare cry.
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As the murmurs of conversation gradually resume around you, you force yourself to take a deep, steadying breath. Kathy's words were nothing but a feeble attempt to save her own face. Besides, what company doesn't have at least one endorser?
"Are you alright?" Taehyung's low, gentle voice catches your attention as he swiftly returns to your side, no doubt influenced after witnessing Kathy's verbal jab.
You manage a tight-lipped smile, nodding faintly as you attempt to push back the overwhelming wave of humiliation. "I will be," you reply, though the words feel hollow even to your own ears.
His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer, a silent understanding passing between you.
"I hope you don't take her words to heart, __," he mutters. "I chose to become your partner because I genuinely believe in your product. I'm selective about who I support, so please trust me when I say it wasn't because of material gain or pity."
You're on the verge of responding to his reassurance when you catch sight of your ex-husband from the corner of your eye, striding his way over to you for the first time tonight. His expression is unreadable, so you brace yourself, unsure of what to expect.
"__," he starts, his voice low but carrying an unmistakable urgency. "Can we talk?"
You and Taehyung share a quick glance before you follow Jungkook out of the ballroom, seeking privacy.
As soon as you're out of earshot, Jungkook turns to you, his features softened by a hint of concern. "Hey," he starts. "I meant to get over to you sooner but got tied up. You know how it is."
"Yeah, I know," you respond, though you'd rather he didn't come over at all, especially after being dragged into the spotlight in front of all your peers and colleagues.
The two of you share an unsettling silence before he speaks again.
"You-You look good." He allows his eyes to rake up and down your body, causing you to cross your arms in discomfort. There was a time when his gaze brought a flutter of excitement, but now, you're not so sure it brings you the same pleasure.
"I'm sorry for what happened in there," he says. "You okay?"
"What?" you repeat, your eyes wide with surprise, stunned by his unexpected apology. "Am I okay?"
Where was this concern when he handed you the divorce papers nine months ago? Or when he willingly took advantage of your vulnerability that time in your office, only to disappear afterward, as if he hadn't just torn your heart out of your chest? You clench your fists, trying to contain the rising temperature of your anger.
"Yeah, about what she said about you," he clarifies. "It was uncalled for, and I feel horrible about it." He reaches out to touch you, but you instinctively step back, as if his touch would scorch you.
"Please, don't," you sigh, a trace of weariness in your voice. "It's fine."
"I'm serious __, I can have her charged with defamation for that. It wouldn't take much!" His insistence is unwavering, and it strikes your last nerve.
"You don't need to fight my battles for me, Jungkook," you suddenly snap, voice stern. "I'm not completely helpless now that you've divorced me!"
Jungkook's expression darkens, regret flickering in his eyes. "I'm not saying you are. I'm just trying to help."
"Help?" you repeat, doubtful. "How do you think that's going to look for me in the media? Jeon Jungkook slaps another high society member with a defamation charge for ex-wife. Thanks, but no thanks. I get enough of that as is."
He sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know they've been difficult on you recentl—"
"Difficult?" you interject, your anger bubbling to the surface. "In case you haven't noticed my face is on every gossip magazine, billboard, press release, and anything else they can use to scorn me with. It's unbearable, especially since I still have a business to run."
Jungkook winces, clearly stung by your words. "Then let me help. I'll get them removed for you. I still care about you, __."
You scoff. "You care about me? Is that why you made me sign our divorce papers three months after you found out I wanted more than a fake marriage?"
His jaw clenches, gaze dropping to the floor guiltily. "It's not like that, __. I'm not trying to be an avoidant asshole. I want you to-"
"Find someone else. Yeah, I got it," you mutter bitterly, feeling a fresh wave of hurt wash over you.
"I'm sorry, __. I am."
You stare at him, torn between resentment and a lingering ache for the connection you once shared. Now, he's apologizing?
"So am I," you say, slowly backing away from him. "You don't have to do anything, Jungkook. I'm fine."
You then turn on your heels to return to the ballroom where Taehyung still waits for you, leaving your ex-husband standing in the hallway, alone.
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a/n: A much-needed confrontation between oc and jk eh? But... *laughs evilly*..this is not the end...LMK what you think! 🤔🤍
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side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬
no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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princesssmars · 3 months
Text
teasing abby not on purpose but kind of on purpose… nsfw.
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you knew as soon as your sink started acting weird you were gonna be screwed. it was only a matter of time until the stupid thing broke, and then you’d have to call your annoying ass landlord to call an even more annoying maintenance company to come fix it.
which you knew they never would. for some reason they loved to schedule people to come fix things in the middle of the day when you had to go to work, then blaming you for being five minutes late like you didn’t cause three traffic accidents just to get over there.
but now, as your broken sink is spouting water like a fire hydrant and you’re soaked from head to toe, you find yourself with only two choices. and you choose the hotter one.
you hadn't been seeing abby for long, only officially dating for around a few weeks at this point. but she was sweet, strong, and exceptionally good with her hands. she'd offered to help build a mounted shelf you were looking at on amazon last week, so you figured she had to have at least some experience with fixing things, right?
you only start to realize the mental jump you took when she's laughing at you over the phone, telling you she doesn't have much plumbing experience but she'll do what she can. really, its no problem, she's right down the street.
until you heard a knock at your door less than four minutes later while you were trying to take every towel you had to put on the floor, hoping to avoid an altercation with your neighbor below you for flooding her and her four secret cats.
so that's the only reason you open the door and give abby a view of you with a soaked-through tank top and no bra. truly, the only reason.
it's not like anyone can blame you when you get her reaction. she's notoriously not subtle at anything, and its intensity is dialed up to a twenty-five as she stared at the wet fabric barely hiding your nipples, only brought out of it when you snap your fingers and loudly clear your throat to bring her attention to how shes supposed to be helping you with your problem.
she was really selling herself short, setting herself in front of the sink and fixing whatever the problem was in less than ten minutes. it’s funny how her eyes keep darting to you when she reaches for some tools, wondering why on earth you hadn’t changed yet because there was no way you were going to suffer in a tiny cold shirt just to rile her up, right?
wrong. we’re you discreetly shivering when she would turn away and start doing her thing again? yes. was it worth it just to see the way her arms flexed as she tightened and pulled and how the muscles in her back showed through her ridiculously tight top…
once she finishes she helps you with cleaning up the mess, mopping up any excess water and removing any towels that have been soaked through, piling them in your washer and starting the cycle. when she comes back to your room she feels like her heart is going to leap out of her chest because you’re still wearing the damn shirt.
“seriously?” she raises her brow, crossing her arms and fighting off the urge to smirk when she notices how your eyes track them.
“what? i like this shirt, has a nice neckline.”
you’re smiling, and then she’s smiling, and then she’s crossing the room in a second and pushing you down on the bed-
but it’s obvious that she agreed with you - it was a cute shirt. which is why she only pushes the neckline down to suck and bite at your chest until you’re nearly crying and begging for her instead of taking the whole thing off.
“what’s the matter? you were teasing me so much, can’t i return the favor?” her words are mumbled as she bites into the side of your breast, laugh reverberating in her chest at your gasp and the jerk of your leg held under her hand.
but luckily for you abby was sweet and way too pent up, so it wasn’t long before she was shoving her hand into your pants and stuffing her fingers inside you, face still planted in your boobs as she brought you to a strong orgasm. and then another. and then another.
yeah. you were glad you didn’t call your landlord.
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horny work daydreams are not a game
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brokenmenswhore · 1 month
Note
Hiii could I please request a fic where the reader is married to Aegon, she's pregnant for the first time and super insecure about her body until she realises her husband is completely in awe of her and he says he looks like a goddess to her, also he's super cute and happy about becoming a father? 😭 Ofc some smut would be highly appreciated I love how you write it!
Thank youuu
i hate kids so i hope this is ok lollll
heavenly | aegon ii targaryen
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pairing: aegon targaryen x fem!reader
warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), a lil fluffy
────── ☾ ──────
All you and Aegon wanted was to be parents.
It was your duty to provide your husband with heirs, so when you were a child, pregnancy seemed like a burden. It seemed like something you couldn’t avoid- your only purpose in life.
However, as you got older and your siblings began to give birth, you discovered your love for children. You found yourself wanting one, and excited for the possibility of having one when your betrothal to Aegon was announced.
Aegon was never the father-figure type. He was immature even as he aged, and often ran from responsibility as opposed to toward it.
When you fell pregnant, you were nervous about Aegon’s reaction. He seemed somewhat excited, but not as excited as you, and that worried you. Would he truly be committed to raising this child?
On top of your doubts, you watched your body stretch and grow as the fetus grew within you.
On one hand, you knew it was a beautiful thing. It was your body making room for a wonderful new addition to your family, something half you and half the man you loved.
On the other hand, you didn’t look the same as you had when Aegon first bed you. All the things he said he loved, all the aspects of your body he said he adored- everything was changing. You began to grow nervous that Aegon wouldn’t see you the same, now that you didn’t look the same.
Your husband would enter your shared chambers just as your handmaidens were beginning to undress or redress you for the night, and you would instinctively turn away. The nightdresses you used to love for their lewdness, and he used to love as well, were put aside for those with ample coverage, hiding you from your husband.
You assumed Aegon appreciated the changes, because he never mentioned them. He would watch you waltz over to bed, and would scan you up and down, but would never comment on your appearance- not your body, nor your clothing, nor your ever-growing bump.
He would watch you until you were sat beside him, but never spoke. You assumed he also detested the changes you were undergoing, otherwise he would be all over you as he used to be.
Halfway through your term, you were more hormonal than you could handle, and the lack of attention from your husband began to bother you. Were you truly in this alone?
You plopped down in bed beside him with a huff. “Aegon?”
“Yes, my love?” he responded.
Your frustration immediately turned to sadness and concern as you heard his voice. “I know I no longer appeal to you, now that I am with child, but I would appreciate some validation that I am not in this alone.”
Aegon gave you a worried look, giving you his full attention. “Have I done something?”
You just began to cry.
“Tell me what’s wrong, please,” Aegon said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“My body is different. It’s not the body you wanted.” You could barely get the words out, your voice cracking as you spoke in a small near-whisper.
“I-“
You cut Aegon off, “I’m scared you won’t want me anymore, and that I will be raising this child alone.”
Aegon completely turned his body toward you, rubbing your upper arm as he spoke, “you truly think I would do such a thing to you?”
“No, I just- I’m scared.”
Aegon sighed. “I wish you knew how beautiful you look carrying my child.”
“What?”
“From the moment we learnt of your pregnancy, you’ve glown,” he said, “to me, you are an absolute goddess.”
“But-“
“I want nothing more than to become a father, and it is a large benefit that I get to do as such with you. You’ve seemingly changed, and I’ve admittedly been nervous that you are uninterested in parenthood.”
“I have merely been nervous about the same regarding you. You have not lost your interest in me?” you asked, gazing up at him through glassy eyes.
“I am as in awe of you as I was the day I met you.”
You desperately needed to hear those words. You smiled, pulling him in for a kiss. When you pulled away, Aegon gave you one of the biggest smiles you’ve ever seen. “I’m going to be a father,” he said, his smile growing even bigger after he spoke.
You smiled back at him, a tear running down your cheek that he wiped away with his thumb, caressing your face while he was there.
“Another thing about pregnancy,” he said, “is it makes you look so fucking beautiful.”
He leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek, then your jaw, then the side of your neck.
“Aegon-“
“Sh, I won’t hurt the baby,” he whispered, continuing to kiss and suck on the skin of your neck.
“Will this not be uncomfortable?”
Aegon pulled away for a brief moment to catch your gaze. “If it is, you tell me immediately, and we stop, okay?”
You nodded your head yes in understanding as Aegon pushed your nightdress up your legs, gently pulling the fabric over your small bump, gazing down to admire it once it was exposed.
You became self conscious, your arms instinctively wrapping around your stomach. Aegon grabbed your wrists and unraveled your arms. “Relax, my love, you’re beautiful.”
You blushed at his words. The sight made his heart swell; even after courtship, marriage, and impregnation, a simple compliment from him still made you blush.
Aegon took a moment to free himself from the confines of his clothes, settling on his knees between your legs as he gave his cock a few strokes with his hand, leaning down to kiss you as he did so.
He lined his cock up with your entrance, watching as the length disappeared inside of you. You threw your head back against the pillows.
“Seven hells, I missed you,” Aegon said, breathy and erratic.
You leaned up and kissed him as he began to fuck into you, moving slowly in fear of hurting you.
The stimulation was a bit different, and you were whining and writhing beneath him from even just a slow pace.
You whimpered into the kiss, and Aegon pulled away. “You alright?”
“Mhm,” you moaned.
Aegon tested the waters and began to move a bit faster, watching your face contort as he picked up the pace. His eyes drifted down your body, landing on the swelling in your stomach. He watched as it shifted upward ever so slightly, almost unnoticeably, with each thrust of his hips.
He bowed his head, his self control fading. Watching you squirm beneath him, his cock inside of you, and his seed already deep within you, was everything he wanted and more.
Aegon began to move even faster, and you let out a high-pitched gasp.
“Are you okay?” he checked in.
“I’m okay,” you strained, “just a lot.”
“Do you need me to slow down?”
You nodded your head no. It was slightly uncomfortable, but you needed Aegon bad, and you didn’t want him to stop.
Regardless, Aegon still slowed down a little, nervous that he was hurting you. It didn’t affect his pleasure, though, as he was still finding himself on the brink of coming. He refused to, however, until you did first.
He fought back his climax, keeping up his pace as he focused on bringing you to the brink. One of his hands found your clit, rubbing soft circles as he fucked into you. Your back arched off the bed, which only made your stomach hurt, so you dropped it again, and the feeling made your walls squeeze around Aegon’s cock.
“That’s my girl,” he cooed, rubbing faster and faster as he kept up his rhythm in and out of you.
You were coming in just a few moments, the feeling driving Aegon over the edge. He quickly pulled out of you, desperate to see his seed on your bump as he released onto your stomach.
“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath at the sight, “didn’t think you could get anymore heavenly.”
You giggled at the praise, finally feeling at ease with your body around him.
He collapsed next to you, laying on his side and running one hand over the top of your stomach, to avoid touching his semen.
“I’m so lucky, did you know that?” he asked you.
You turned your head, stretching your neck slightly to catch his lips in a sweet kiss. “I could say the same.”
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