#but i think i need it off my desk and my mind now so fly free little weave | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

angelfic · 8 months

Text

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

“He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

#theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott smut #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott

9K notes · View notes

luveline · 5 months

Note

God bombshell x reid kills me I want them to just be together so bad but the slow burn is so good

Would you happen to have anything in mind for a situation where spencer starts to see that her feelings are genuine and he can envision actually being with her?

thanks for requesting my love! ♡ fem reader

Your arrival is marked by a bunch of different things. The smell of your perfume, the clack of your shoes. The clinking sound of your two tennis bracelets as you lift your hand, and the scratch of your fingernails in his hair. He shivers at the soft touch, worse as you lean down to talk in his ear. “Morning,” you say cheerily.

It's a quick ordeal. A swift scratch and you pull away.

You've done affectionate things like that before. Hugged him when you thought he needed it, kissed his cheek to say thanks. When he was in the hospital after Tobias, you held his hand the entire time. He's always thought you felt sorry for him —you've made it clear that you think the team could be better to him. If it weren't for you, he probably wouldn't believe it himself.

But something about your scratching rings a bell in his head.

It's just so… girlfriend-y.

He lifts his head from his desk to watch you walk to your own. Hotch won't abide you sitting together anymore on account of you letting him chat as much as he likes without chiding, but you're not far enough to escape his attention, either. Spencer's gaze follows your arms as you shrug from your jacket, and your neck as you lean back and let out a sigh.

He gets up.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asks worriedly.

“Slept just fine, honey,” you say, brushing down your blouse. “How about you? Headaches any better?”

“They're fine.”

You touch your cheek gently. “... What are you looking at me for?”

“Nothing,” he says quickly. When a rare insecurity flashes in your eyes, he adds, “You look really pretty today, that's all.”

“Oh.” Your lips perk into a big smile, charmed and charming. “Thank you, Spencer. You look handsome, too. Your hair’s growing.” You bring a hand to his face, not hesitant, but waiting permission, and when he lifts his chin a touch you rake your hand through the hair at the side of his head to tuck behind his ears. “What are you thinking? You'll grow it out again, or cut it short?”

He's probably gonna do whatever he thinks you'll like, and he's smart enough to guess. “Grow it out?”

Your delight is not subtle. “It's so soft. I love it. I love your curls.” You glance past him to the landing. “Hotch is looking at us. I'm gonna pretend I didn't see him.”

“L/N.”

“Or hear him.”

“Reid,” Hotch tries.

Spencer turns on the spot, baffled. You're told off often for flirting with him, but everyone jokes that Spencer is the unwitting party. Hotch gives him a reproachful look that seems to say, stop.

And the second bell rings. Not only does your affection go beyond the boundaries of a friendship, and act outside of playful teasing, Hotch sees it as a mutual partnership. As an equal back and forth.

Well fine. If this is real, and he's apparently going to get in trouble for things now, he has to just– just do it, right? “Did you hear that?” he asks, laying the mock confusion on thick.

Your laughter is immediate, loud and sudden and beautiful. You grab his arm and hide your head as though that might obscure the sound of your giggling, your perfume like a wave that hits him smack in the chest. He grins down at you, hand flying automatically to your shoulder.

A boyfriend-y touch, he'd say.

Spencer could be your boyfriend. He could. You press your forehead to his chest to ride out your laughing and he can see the two of you together, not just a silly daydream but the real thing.

“Don't be mad,” you're saying as you lift your head, your hand spreading over his arm, familiar in its gentleness. “Hotch, come on! I didn't see him at all this weekend, and he looks so nice today. You know he looks nice today, give me a break.”

Your voice is shaped by your fondness for him, for Hotch, too, and stretched like a sheet of silk. Spencer doesn't think he could want you more.

“I'm furious,” Hotch says plainly. “I want to see you both in my office. Preferably now.”

You wait for him to go back into his office before giving Spencer a small, sorry smile. “My bad, handsome. That one's on me. Take you out to lunch to make up for it?”

“How about I take you out to lunch?” he asks.

“But you didn't do anything.”

“Is that true?” he asks, giving you a nudge. “Come on. He's gonna yell at us about last Thursday's paperwork, you know, the Kentucky stuff.”

Your eyes widen and your lips part, but you recover, sewing your arm through his as you lament, “Noooo, I forgot about that. He's gonna fry us alive.”

You don't sound particularly upset.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

2K notes · View notes

demonpiratehuntress · 4 months

Text

can we...cuddle?

Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

summary - Law really wants to cuddle with you, but he's just not that good at asking for it.

warnings - not proofread, wrote it at 23:30 on New Year's Eve, pretty tired from an eventful day. also wanted to get it out before my tribute to Ace for his birthday at 12am.

a/n - fluff fluff fluff, this just popped into my head because i was thinking about soft!law and how much i love him

Law had never been great at asking for anything he needs or wants. He was either too prideful or too embarrassed, depending on the situation. And with you, the embarrassment part seemed a lot more prominent, because he was starting to feel unusually clingy and needy for your attention and affection. It was embarrassing.

He has an issue with outright asking for it, though. He's usually a put-together, calm man who is always in control of what he feels and how he acts. However, around you, his body seems to forget that and his mind and heart both yearn for yours. He wants to be the only thing you think of, he wants to be the only one you love and show affection to, and he wants to be the only one you ever hold.

But he could never gather up the courage to ask you to hold him, damn it!

He would see you cuddling Bepo, and envy the bear for one of two things. One, for being so easily approachable for cuddles. Two, for being able to ask you for cuddles so easily. Law wasn't the jealous type, but he'd quickly learned that when he started dating you, he'd feel and do a lot of things he'd never dreamed of before.

"You okay, Law?"

Your soft voice brought him out of his irritated thoughts, and his expression softened considerably when his eyes landed on you. You looked tired, your eyes were drooping and your body was slumping, and Law had never seen anything cuter.

"Yes, (Name)-ya." He gently grabbed your elbow, leading you away. "Let's get you to bed now, sleepyhead."

You smiled at that, giggling in the most adorable way that had Law's heart flipping in his chest. He was both amazed and annoyed that you held such power over him, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I'm not sleepy, you're sleepy."

He chuckled at that, guiding you into the room you both shared. For once, his work went ignored on the desk as he steered you towards the bed, his tense body only relaxing when you were safely lying on the mattress, pulling him down beside you.

"(Name)-ya-" He started, but you were already softly snoring, gripping onto his shirt like a baby. He would never admit it out loud, but the sight was enough to melt even his frigid heart.

He sighed. Another failed attempt at asking for cuddles. He got the cuddles anyway, but he wanted to be the one asking so he could show you that he craved your touch as much as you craved his.

The next time he tried to ask, you were laying in bed reading a book as you waited for him to finish working.

Once he was sick of whatever he was doing, he got up and slowly made his way to the bed, kicking off his shoes and discarding his coat before flopping down next to you. So preoccupied by your book, you hadn't noticed his arrival.

"What are you reading, (Name)-ya?"

You jumped in fright, the book flying out of your hands and settling on the floor next to the bed. Law's deep rumble of laughter met your ears, and you blushed in embarrassment, smacking his arm lightly and playfully.

"Law! Don't do that!"

"I'm sorry," he apologised insincerely, smirking. "You're so easy to scare."

You pouted, "You're mean."

"You love me anyway," his chest swelled at the fact.

"I do, I very much do," you smiled, heart warming.

You leaned over the side of the bed to pick your book up, but when you got back up you were met with a sleeping Law laying next to you. It was rare for him to fall asleep before you, but you knew he had been working himself non-stop, even more so than usual lately. You smiled softly, setting your book aside and thinking you'll find your page tomorrow as you shifted closer to the slumbering doctor, curling up close to him.

Law woke up the next day feeling incredibly disappointed. He had fallen asleep before he could even try asking you to cuddle him. He'd woken up to you cuddling him, but he still felt displeased by his irritating inability to state his need for your touch.

You woke up a little later in the morning, to a steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. You smiled, knowing that was one of Law's ways of showing he cared. He couldn't cook, but he could make you coffee and did so every morning he woke up before you. Which, let's be real, is almost every morning. On the rare occasion you wake up before him, you have a full breakfast ready for him and a planned speech on how he should not feel guilty for not being able to do the same for you.

"Good morning, love."

You looked up at a working Law, hunched over his desk as he furiously scribbled something in his notebook. Your smile grew, and you slowly sat up in bed.

"Morning, captain."

He groaned, "I call you love and you call me captain?"

You giggled, "Sorry, my love. My baby. My one and only."

He hummed in satisfaction, "Much better." The ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

You didn't mind much that he wasn't looking at you. He was paying attention to what you were saying, and that was more than enough for you. You knew how he could get, and had learned a long time ago to embrace and accept it.

"What will you do today?" He suddenly asked, a tad bit nervously.

"Well," you began, "Seeing as we are docked at an island and you're allowing everyone to take the day off, I think I might just stay right here in bed all day."

"Is that so?" He asked, amused. "How lazy."

You laughed at his teasing, the sound going straight to his heart. It swelled in response, growing warm in his chest. Your laugh was one of the few things that Law genuinely loved to listen to. He liked the way it made him feel, but also the fact that he had been the one to cause it.

"Very," you agreed. "But it's fun, you should try it sometime."

He finally turned to you, raising an eyebrow, "Oh? Are you giving me orders, (Name)-ya?" His tone was teasing, his smile wicked.

"Hmmm, maybe," you taunted, grinning.

The doctor let out a heavy sigh, before a calm smile tugged at his lips. Pushing his work aside, he got up from his seat and walked over to the bed, gingerly sitting on the edge.

"I suppose I can indulge you just this once, then. Since no one is around to hear just how bossy you really are."

You laughed at that, eagerly shifting to make space for him, "What can I say? Sometimes my captain needs a little bossing to relax a little bit."

He chuckled, "I don't deny that."

Then, again, Law found himself struggling to ask for your touch. He wanted to ask you to cuddle him so badly, but he just couldn't bring himself to say the words. Finally, after a few minutes of comfortable silence, he tried his best.

"(Name)-ya," he started nervously, "I like that thing you do...where you pull me close and hug me...but in bed." He waited for you to say something, but you remained silent but smirking, as if you knew what he wanted but you just wanted him to say it. He swallowed thickly. "You know where...you wrap your arms around me and keep me against your warm body." He blushed at his own words.

"Hmmm, what might you be speaking of, babe?" You teased him, evil grin on your face.

He sighed, taking off his hat and running a hand through his dark hair, "I'm trying to say...I mean I want to ask...do you-can we...can we cu-" He paused, silently mouthing the word. "Cuddle? Can we cuddle?"

Your eyes widened, because you hadn't really expected him to say it. Then you smiled and happily opened your arms for the flustered doctor. He obliged, sinking into them just as happily, a contented sigh leaving his lips.

"Law?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm really glad you finally asked."

"Me too."

And from then on, Law wasn't shy to ask, he wasn't shy to pull you aside and just hug you, and he wasn't shy to show you that he needed to touch you just as much as you needed to touch him.

Congratulations, you unlocked Clingy Trafalgar Law.

#one piece #op #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece trafalgar law x reader #one piece trafalgar law x you #one piece law #one piece law x reader #one piece law x you

901 notes · View notes

foxartist-blog · 21 days

Text

Served with Fruit and a Break 〜 (Scaramouche x Reader)

!! NSFW !!

You have been warned.

• Word count: 2.6k

• Dom (slightly soft) Scaramouche, Female reader, Nipple play, Oral (f receiving), Rare praise

Note: This is more of Wanderer’s personality and character but written as Scaramouche for simplicity.

Scaramouche was at his desk, scribbling absent-mindedly while scanning over his assigned texts. How boring, he thought. There’s no reason for me to learn something I will likely never use in my life. He read a paragraph over and over again, his eyebrows raised in mild amusement. “The way humans write…” Scaramouche exhaled as he underlined some key words. “Entirely convoluted…” he muttered.

You gently knocked on his door and quietly sneaked behind his seat, and tapped on his shoulder with a plate of sliced fruit and snacks. “Wanna take a break?” You smiled at him, hoping that he would agree. But to your dismay, he flicked his hand as if swatting away a fly. “I have no need for food or breaks,” came his reply.

His rejection caused your shoulders to slump. “But…”

“No buts. Now stop being a distraction and go do your own assignments.”

Your brows furrowed slightly in annoyance and pursed your lips a little. “Well I’m taking a break.”

He didn’t reply as his attention was back on his textbooks. The way he brushed you off did irritate you a bit. You placed the plate down on his desk next to a pile of books and picked up a small slice of a banana, with a thought running through your mind. I’ll just do this and leave…

You grabbed onto his hair to pull his head back a little and shoved the banana into his mouth. Scaramouche’s eyes widened and he spluttered. You were already heading for the door but he gripped onto your arm and pulled you back. He spat out the piece of banana before speaking. “You little…” Scaramouche faltered before sighing. “You want me to choke?”

You averted your eyes from his intense gaze. “N-No… I just wanted you to take a break.”

He sighed. “I really don’t understand why you care so much but… fine. I’ll take this break so you can stop being a nuisance.” He let go of your arm and sat back down on his chair.

Great! You gave him a small smile then pointed at his lap. “Since there’s no chairs, I can sit here, right?” Giving him a playful wink, you were quick to take your seat on his lap, picking up a cherry and popping it into your mouth.

Scaramouche paused, feeling a little embarrassed. But he would never show that side to you. He sighed as he realised there really weren't any other seats for you. “Do whatever you want. Just involve me as little as poss—” he was cut off by you shoving another piece of fruit into his mouth. “Can you quit that?” He scowled when you looked satisfied doing that to him that he decided to take his revenge. He grabbed a blueberry from the plate and forced your mouth open with his other hand. “Say aah…” he smirked as he pushed the blueberry into your mouth. You closed your mouth after he let your jaw go, feeling your cheeks heat up. You were expecting him to shove it into your mouth as you did to him but to your surprise he was handling you quite gently. As you chewed quickly, you gazed into his eyes while he stared back silently. It was only when you swallowed that you realised you were staring so absent-mindedly at him that you turned away to pick up another piece of fruit. You brought the fruit up to his lips as he gave you a tiny smirk, slightly laughing at you.

“Heh… What’s the matter? Did you happen to get lost in my eyes?” Scaramouche opened his mouth as you fed him. “And quit feeding me like I’m a baby. Why are you doing that?” He frowned as he chewed.

You shrugged your shoulders. “It's just an act of affection.” You were looking at the plate instead of his face, with the hope that he wouldn’t comment on your flushed cheeks.

Scaramouche picked off the plate this time and brought the apple slice to your lips. “I don’t… think I deserve such treatment from you. Yet…” His thumb swiped lightly over your bottom lip as you chewed, giving you a small, ticklish feeling. “I feel… greedy…” he continued, his thumb pushing past your lips when you finished eating the apple slice. You felt his thumb caressing the tip of your tongue before he pulled it out. There were moments like these where Scaramouche would openly tell you his feelings. It was something you greatly appreciated.

“Feed me a cracker this time.” Scaramouche requested. You picked up a cracker from the plate and fed him, smiling softly as you said, “it’s okay to be a little greedy…”

A small smirk slowly formed on his lips as he swallowed. “Is that so? Then I hope you don’t mind me doing this.” He picked up a strawberry and held it between his teeth before leaning towards you. Scaramouche caught your chin, pressing his thumb and middle finger against your cheeks gently to get you to open your mouth. He pushed half of the strawberry between your teeth and bit down, so half was in your mouth and the other half was in his.

“Hm. Sour,” Scaramouche muttered as he ate his half of the strawberry. He noticed you not chewing. “I don’t mind taking my strawberry back, you know.”

You stuttered out a confused ‘huh’ as he leaned towards your face, his eyes locked onto your lips. His thumb pressed between your lips as his tongue snaked in, swiping the other half of the strawberry. Scaramouche pulled away slightly as he chewed with a smirk plastered upon his lips. It finally registered in your brain what he did. ”Thief,” you remarked, playfully frowning. You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his head closer before lightly pecking his lips in a teasing manner. Scaramouche’s mouth tickled upon feeling such softness against him. His hands slid down to your hips, fondling them as he pressed his mouth against yours.

While you were kissing him slowly, you pulled away briefly and picked up a piece of fruit from the plate. You popped the fruit into your mouth then pressed your lips against his again, pushing the fruit into his mouth with your tongue as Scaramouche parted his lips. To your surprise, he spat out the fruit and slid his textbooks and notepad to the side before grabbing you off his lap and onto the desk instead. He didn’t waste a single second as he immediately pressed his mouth against yours in a searing kiss, groping and squeezing your curves through your clothes in order to force a gasp out of you so he could push his tongue inside your mouth. His hands slid up to hold your face, as he circled his tongue around yours in a slow dance. Your hands found purchase at the front of his clothes, clutching and wrinkling his Akademiya uniform while you wrapped your legs around his hips, pulling him closer. Scaramouche finally pulled away when you needed air but he could not wait as his lips immediately trailed down the side of your neck, his hands pulling, unbuttoning, undressing you.

Scaramouche grunted as he felt your thighs squeeze his hips. “Aren’t you a little too excited?” He mumbled into your neck, kissing down until he reached your collarbone, licking it slowly.

“I think you’re the one who’s excited,” you replied as you caressed his head while one hand was running up and down his side, eventually inching its way between his legs, toward his hardening cock. Scaramouche began kissing the top of your breasts, while his hands squeezed them gently, his thumbs rubbing your nipples. He was licking the line between your breasts before he suddenly gasped against your skin, while you were amused by his reaction as your hand fondled his erection through his pants. His gaze shifted to your face, his lips forming a straight line as if to tell you that he will get you back for that.

He kept his eyes on your face as he very quickly closed his lips over one of your nipples, sucking harshly while he pinched and pulled the other, startling you and causing moans to slip out of your mouth. Scaramouche smirked as he began to lick, flicking your nipple with his tongue as you gripped onto his hair, squirming. You arched your back as he opened his mouth wider to not only suck on your nipple, but some of the area around your nipple as well. Your movements of pressing your tit further against his mouth only challenged Scaramouche to fit as much as he can, as his saliva began to dribble under your tit. He let go with a wet pop, admiring the way your nipple was glistening with his saliva, all swollen and sensitive. He glanced back to your face, looking into your eyes as his finger poked your wet nipple. You grabbed his hand and pulled it away from your nipple, trembling as you managed to breathe out. “It’s too sensitive…” You said as you covered your other nipple with your hand, knowing that he was going to treat it the same way.

Scaramouche lightly chuckled. “Hey… You’re the one who urged me to take a break. All this studying makes me stressed out, so…” he pinned your hands behind you as he continued, “I need your body to relieve my mind.” As he went to press his tongue against your untouched nipple, you twisted your body to the side, attempting to avoid his mouth. He growled in response. “Quit moving around like that or I’ll bite.” He threatened unseriously, trying to make you listen to his instructions but the sound of his growl had only excited you further as wetness pooled between your legs. However you decided to let him have his way, as Scaramouche moaned against your nipple when his lips made contact. He once again sucked roughly as you squirmed and trembled, trying to free your hands from his grip. He attempted to fit your tit into his mouth as much as he could as he played around your nipple with his tongue. If he continued his ministrations, it felt as if you could cum just from him playing with your tits…!

You sighed out of relief as Scaramouche finally pulled away from your breasts, admiring again at his work, as your tits were wet and messy with his saliva. “You look so good like this,” he whispered as he gazed at your swollen nipples. Scaramouche looked pleased with himself, then his eyes trailed downwards. “Of course, I must be neglecting something…” He flicked his gaze to your face. “Care to tell me?” Scaramouche asked as he then whispered your name.

“...Please,” with a shaky sigh you squeezed his hips with your legs again. Scaramouche finally let go of your hands as he pulled your outer clothing down and grabbed your knees to spread them apart. “Oh?” He murmured as he noticed the wet spot on your panties. “Mmh… enjoying yourself, weren’t you?” Scaramouche chuckled as pressed his lips against your inner thigh, kissing and sucking as you whined. He paused for a moment, as if thinking of something. “Hold on to me,” Scaramouche demanded. You complied and wrapped your limbs around his body as he proceeded to lift you up from the desk and set you on his bed. “I don’t want you making a mess near the books,” he muttered as he pushed you down, slotting himself between your legs, and grinding his clothed cock against your panties. “You feel so good…” he groaned blissfully as he continued to rub against you, causing your panties to stick to your pussy and the wet spot to spread. “So good…” he whispered in your ear. Scaramouche paused before hesitantly whispering again. “Good girl.”

You shivered when he whispered in your ear. “How unexp–,” you were cut off as he began to kiss you hungrily on the lips, thrusting his hot tongue into your mouth. Scaramouche kept his eyes open this time while making out with you, without you noticing as your eyes were shut, focusing on the feeling and texture of his tongue. His gaze, while normally strong, was soft as he kissed you, yet still a glaze of lust was evident in his eyes. He pulled away from your mouth and shuffled down your body, his indigo-blue eyes examining and memorising each and every curve, mark, spot, on your body until he hooked his fingers around your panties. Before he pulled them down, he met your gaze once again. “I do believe there is… one ‘fruit’ you have yet to serve me. Heh heh.” Scaramouche chuckled as he pulled your panties completely off. “Mmh… you smell good…” he remarked as he nudged his nose against your clit, causing you to immediately squeeze his head between your thighs. He groaned as he felt the soft skin of your inner thighs squishing his face, and he pressed his mouth against your slit as he mumbled into it. “This is the break I needed…” Scaramouche’s tongue poked and prodded at your opening, licking up all the slick, as he ran his tongue up and down your pussy. Your hands gripped onto his hair, tugging on it as you writhed in pleasure when he closed his lips around your clit and sucked. He didn’t mind how tightly you squeezed his head, after all he was a puppet who did not need to breathe.

Yet, it did bother him somewhat, as Scaramouche found it slightly difficult to thrust his tongue into your hole when your legs were closed around him. He pushed your thighs apart, by holding the back of your knees and pressing them against your chest, folding you however he wanted. “That’s better,” he mumbled as he dove right back into your pussy and shoved his tongue in, causing you to gasp and tremble as he moved his tongue in and out of your wet hole. As much as you wanted to watch him eat you out, your head was constantly thrown back due to the intense amount of pleasure he was giving you. Your orgasm was building strongly when Scaramouche decided to shift one of his hands from your thighs to your clit, instantly soaking his fingers in a mixture of your slick and his saliva, as he rubbed and played with your sensitivity while his tongue moved in and out of your pussy at a fast pace. His actions had only caused you to shake involuntarily as you began to chant his name while your eyes were glued to the ceiling. Scaramouche could tell you were on the very edge of a powerful orgasm when he began to mumble into your pussy. “Mmh…cum…cum…cum for me…cum on my face…I’ll keep…fucking you with my tongue…just…cum…!”

You pressed your palm over your mouth to cover up a loud moan as you squirted, the edges of your vision turning white as your climax washed over you, rendering you into a crying, shaking mess. Scaramouche could only watch your reaction in awe, as he was the one who made you react in such a hot way. His tongue slowly licked up your mess, as you quivered, trying to push his face away from your pussy. “Stop it… it's too much,” your voice sounded above a whisper while you glanced down at him. It seems you’ve made a bigger mess than you thought as you noticed your fluids on his face.

Scaramouche sat up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He sighed. “I guess you’re due for a break, huh?” He pulled you closer to him by your thighs. “You have five minutes,” he chuckled as he eagerly rubbed his cock on your sensitive pussy.

Also posted on AO3. Do not share, copy, translate.

Thank you for reading <3

467 notes · View notes

writeroutoftime · 2 months

Text

pawns in your game

pairing: cassian x fem!reader

summary: when you get injured working a job with rhys, your mate - worried for your safety - loses it and finally lets go of his pent up anger

warnings: angst, injury towards reader, cass getting angry at rhys and also rhys kinda being a dick (look I have a lot of thoughts of conversations that never happened in acosf lol - I just hope this isn't horribly ooc)

words: 1.3k

a/n: first cassian fic! honestly, I know I said I'm in love with rhys, but it's the same for cass and az - so this one is for my fellow cassian people! wasn't sure how to wrap this up, so I left it open for a part 2. let me know if anyone is interested and/or has any ideas? but either way, please enjoy!! (also, if you could let me know what you think because I'm so nervous about posting this!)

tagging @captainsophiestark as requested! (hope you're having a lovely day!)

oOoOo

"Cassian, I need you to visit Windhaven and deal with Devlon. I'm getting reports of unrest, and I want this handled before it becomes a problem." Rhys commanded, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Standing at attention, Cass nodded his head once, sharply. "Of course. I will go and pack, so that y/n and I may leave before the sun sets." He moved to exit the room, holding his hand out for you, but was quickly stopped before either of you got too far.

"Actually, y/n, I need you to accompany me." Rhys interrupted, directing his attention to you.

Your jaw dropped, caught off guard, and you hurried to school your features. It was not that you had to be paired with Cassian for all missions, but it had been that way for at least a century now since your mating ceremony. It served as peace of mind to you and Cass, and usually meant your missions were more successful compared to when you were separated. Surely, Rhys understood that.

"We will be leaving for the Spring Court in the morning, and I need my most trusted courtier with me."

Shock ran through your body, but you nodded your head regardless. It must be a serious matter, for you had not visited the Spring Court in many months. However, you instantly felt a sharp tug of your mating bond followed by waves of anger that poured off of Cassian.

"Spring Court?" he ground out, fists clenched at his side. "Why must you travel to the Spring Court? I thought we put that behind us?"

"Because I have official business to conduct with Tamlin that supersedes our personal desires. And I need the Night Court's courtier present for." Rhys snapped back.

You sent a soothing message down the bond, trying to calm Cass' anger you felt growing with each second that passed. "Cass, it's alright. Both of us will be fine."

"No. Rhys, you know what happened the last time any of us stepped foot there. You really want to risk it? Can't you send anyone else to go? Lucien, Mor, Feyre?"

Now it was Rhys' turn to growl. "Watch it, Cassian. I've told y/n she will accompany to Spring and that's enough."

"But can't you just-"

"I said that's enough!" Rhys shouted, his eyes darkened dangerously as the thread of his patience snapped. "I am your High Lord, and you will not push back against what I command."

A tension so thick that it threatened to choke you immediately filled the room. You kept your eyes locked on the ground, but you didn't have to look to know Cass wore a mask of despair on his face. It had been decades since Rhys had lost his temper like that.

Cassian merely bowed his head in mock respect before dragging you from the room. He did not speak for the next hour, only doing so to whisper his love and goodbye to you, before flying to Windhaven, not saying another word to Rhys.

oOoOo

The next day found yourself in the ruins of the Spring Court. What once was a beautiful court that thrived for all its citizens now lay dilapidated and lonely, a reflection of the court's high lord's own feelings. It had rattled your nerves to set foot on Tamlin's territory considering the rocky history between the Spring and Night courts, but you would not leave Rhys' side.

Now, you were utterly exhausted from mediating with two, stubborn males all day; only for no new development to transpire, meaning you simply wasted a day away from your own court and your mate. Your only relief came from the swift exit Rhys insisted on, making sure you would arrive home before the sun set.

Yet, the tension from the previous day lingered as you and Rhys traveled to the border to be able to winnow out. But as you both walked in silence, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. Like someone, or something was watching you. Before you could communicate any of this to Rhys, you caught a solider out of the corner of your eye with an arrow notched and aimed at your high lord.

"Look out!" you shouted. With such little warning, you knew Rhys wouldn't be able to deflect the arrow on his own. And with a rush of adrenaline, you pushed your body to reach Rhys.

Mere seconds before the arrow could lodge itself in its initial target, your body collided with Rhys', knocking him out of the way and safely to the ground. Instead, the arrow lodged itself deep in your shoulder, burning like a thousand fires. You let out a guttural scream, immediately dropping to the ground.

Being part of the Inner Circle - the Court of Dreams - meant you were no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything you ever thought existed. Very briefly, you recognized that Rhys had neutralized the threat and now hovered over your body.

His face was contorted in pain and tears clouded his eyes. He moved to pull the arrow from your body, but halted the moment he touched it. Your scream reverberated in the stone courtyard.

"y/n, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." he cried, never seeing you like this. Quickly, Rhys gathered you in his arms and winnowed back to Velaris and directly into the med wing. He prayed Madja could mend the wounds, and he blanched at the thought of Cassian discovering the events that had played out.

oOoOo

Meanwhile, in the Windhaven camp, Cassian was meeting with a handful of males, attempting to negotiate peace. His focus wavered, however, as a blinding wave of agony struck his heart through his bond. He froze on the spot, his heart stopped pumping blood. While on a mission, the two of you had agreed to keep the bond closed - for safety reasons. The fact that he could feel this immense pain, meant something very wrong had occurred.

"I-I have to go." Cassian mumbled, not bothering to offer any more explanation to the Illyrians - consequences be damned.

Immediately, he took to the skies and started the flight back to Velaris. The already long flight felt like it took an eternity. The wind strung at Cassian's cheeks as he soared, but the pain didn't register like the way the bond sung in pain.

Finally, Cass could see River House in his site, and when he finally entered the house, he was met with the site of his family huddled together in the sitting room. All eyes turned his way, a mixture of pity and concern as they looked at him.

"What happened? Where is y/n?" he demanded, fully stepping into his role as Lord of Bloodshed, eyes darkened and wings drawn out menacingly.

Before anyone could answer, another scream could be heard from the halls. Cassian's knees buckled, and he would have fallen to the floor if Azriel hadn't been standing by. Rhys blocked his path, unable to meet his brother's eye.

"She was attacked, brother. We were ambushed while visiting the Spring Court." Rhys whispered.

"And they attacked her?" Cass questioned, though he knew deep down that wasn't the case. When Rhys, or anyone else for that matter, refused to speak, Cassian growled. "What happened?"

Unable to speak, Rhysand gently scraped against Cassian's mental shields and projected to him the whole truth of what had happened at the Spring Court; the ambush, you pushing yourself into harm's way for the sake of Rhys, and the pain you felt from the moment the arrow struck your body.

As Rhys withdrew himself from his brother's mind, Cass drew, deep rugged breaths. The silence in the room was so thick it felt suffocating, but no one dared to move or speak first. However, instead of speaking, Cass pushed past everyone and demanded his way into your room to be by your side.

One look at your crumpled form, sent Cassian to his knees by your bedside. He reached out, hesitantly, to grasp your hand in his and allowed the tears to fall. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart." he mumbled.

Madja made herself known from the corner, approaching Cass the way one would a frightened animal. "The arrow she was shot with was laced with a terrible poison - much worse than faebane. I've done my best, but some of the poison already made it to her system."

"When will she wake up?" Cass asked, not allowing the possibility of you never waking to cross his lips.

The healer sighed deeply, looking over the famed general, now brought to his knees at the sight of his mate fighting for her life. "Only the Cauldron and Mother know. It will be up to y/n to bring herself back from the brink." Madja spoke slowly.

With a final, soothing touch to Cass's shoulder, Madja made her exit. Now off to deliver the same news to the rest of your waiting family.

"Please don't leave me. Y-you can't leave me." Cass whispered, clutching your hand. "I'm here with you every step of the way." he vowed.

oOoOo

And that was how it continued for the next four days as your body continued to try and heal itself from the inside out. Cass refused to move from the chair he had dragged to sit by your bed. Unwilling to leave your side for even a moment.

The rest of his family took turns sitting with you and Cass, bringing him meals, forcing him to at least take a bite. He knew that everyone else was suffering as well from your situation, but it felt like his heart was being torn apart, bit by bit, with each hour that passed and you still remained asleep.

He wasn't stupid. He knew the longer you went without improvement, the less likely it became you would heal. Cass heard the hushed conversations Mor and Azriel held outside your door, discussing what to do should the worst happen, Cauldron forbid.

It was on that fourth day that Cassian reached a tipping point. He heard the door creak open behind him, imagining it was Amren who would be sitting with him, based on the previous days' schedule.

What Cass had not anticipated was to see his High Lord approach the bed and pull a chair up on the opposite side of your bed. It was obvious to see the prominent dark circles that overtook Rhys's normally bright face, and the way his body and seemingly sunk into itself. But Cass could not bring himself to care for his brother's guilt or be the first to utter a word.

With a wave of his hand, Rhys summoned a tray of food for Cassian, and only sighed when he rejected the peace offering. Finally, Rhys found a sliver of courage and was the first to break the silence.

"Madja has yet to make headway on identifying the poison y/n was hit with, but she is not giving up. None of us are." he offered, unsure of how to breach the subject.

Rhysand could only imagine what Cassian was experiencing. The pain of losing Feyre had been so immense, but in a twisted sense, at least it had been quick. A blink of an eye and she was gone. Rhys didn't think he would have been strong enough to sit vigil, feeling her fade through the bond with each passing minute.

"Stop looking at me like she's already gone." Cass growled, eyes darkening towards Rhys.

"Brother, I only want to help her, and to support you."

"I think you've done quite enough. It's your fault she's even in this position to begin with." he spat, enjoying the way that Rhys flinched at his words.

"Now that's not fair, Cassian." Rhys tried to counter. "I never asked her to that for me."

Cass could only scoff at the High Lord's response. "Of course, you didn't have to ask. You're the fucking High Lord, of course she was going to risk her life for you. Isn't that we all do here?"

"All of you, y/n including, knew what you were getting into, what the dangers were, when you swore allegiance to my court. You don't get to throw that back on me. You think this doesn't hurt me just as it hurts you?"

"No, it fucking doesn't!" Cassian screamed, his blood boiling at this point. "Because you use us like your puppets to protect you and your mate-"

"Careful how you continue, Cassian." Rhysand warned, not caring for slander against his mate, even in Cass's state of grief.

"Ever since this "death bargain" you and Feyre struck, it's like the rest of us don't matter. All we do is making sure your asses aren't killed because Cauldron forbid the saviors of Prythian are stolen from us." Cassian blazed on. "Yes, you've lost your mate before, Rhys, but she came back to you, and you to her.

"Who will remake y/n if she can't fight this? You and your High Lady are so far up on your pedestal that you don't know what it's like for the rest of us. Yes, we understood what our duties would entail, but that doesn't mean we have to continue to stand for this." Cassian spat, finally allowing years of pent-up fear and anger to spill over.

With one last, murderous, glare, Cassian turned his back on Rhysand, letting his words ring out for all in the House to hear. His wings stretched out behind him, hiding both you and he from Rhys, the Night Court, and the rest of the world. If it was to only be the two of you against everyone else from that point on, so be it.

part 2

oOoOo

a/n: part 2?

#cassian x reader #cassian imagine #actoar cassian x reader #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

660 notes · View notes

oikasugayama · 4 months

Text

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG pt. 3

MDNI, this is a NSFW series for adults

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Ranpo

you get a weird voicemail from Ranpo in which he was whimpering and saying "please, please, [y/n]," and then there was some fumbling with the phone and it cut off.

you're worried, of course you are, thinking maybe someone had taken him or hurt him and he needed your help, so you rush to his dorm and pound on the door, calling his name

you press your ear to the door and hear some muffled voices suddenly cut off, then hard footsteps approaching.

when ranpo throws the door open, his face is flushed, his hat and glasses are no where to be seen but his eyes are wide open, pupils dilated. you glance down and notice his clothes are disheveled, his shirt not tucked in, his fly undone, he's not wearing any shoes.

"WHAT" he snaps.

"i-- i thought you were-- you sent me a voicemail, it sounded like you were hurt or something??"

his face falls and simultaneously gets significantly redder, he steps back slightly and tries to think of what to say. that's when you spot his open laptop on the table beside a box of tissues and some lotion

"oh fuck," you say, looking from it to him. "holy shit, you were-- oh my god i'm so sorry!!"

he panics, trying to block your view "what? no-- no, i can explain, i was--"

"wait, was that voicemail in the middle of you masturbating?? dude, you said my name"

"seriously, it's-- no, i didn't, it was a misunderstanding!!"

"you know, you're a terrible liar, ranpo. brilliant mind, but a terrible liar."

Akutagawa

god he looks hot in this gif

Mori sends you to get Akutagawa for an impromptu meeting, which you have a sinking feeling is about your conduct with Akutagawa during the last mission. you nearly missed a target because you were, ahem... busy... in an alley together.

the first place you look for akutagawa, obviously, is in his own office, but he isn't there. in the hallway you run into Gin, so you ask if she knows where her brother is, and she says he was looking for you not long ago, so you decide to check your own office.

as soon as you crack the door open you hear the wet noise of his precum-damp hand pumping his cock. since you started hooking up, he's been finding you nearly every day to get his load off, it's no surprise that he's doing it here without you.

"akutagawa," you hiss, slinking into your office and locking the door behind you. "mori wants us to meet him now, probably about this exactly thing. i don't think we can keep doing this."

his hand stops and he glares at you, frowny mouth turning further to a scowl.

"mori may be the head of the organization, but he can't tell me who i can fuck. come here."

you take a second to decide, but when akutagawa stretches his free hand out to you, you rush to accept it. his expression brightens, no longer scowling but now smirking.

"good girl. mori can wait, can't he?"

"yes," you nod, sinking to your knees in front of him.

you meet with mori only after the taste of akutagawa's cum fills your mouth

Ango

You work into your lunch break, trying to finish a report that your boss needs asap. when you finally finish, you rush to ango's office to drop it off. you throw the door open without knocking, walk in several steps, and only then do you notice a few things:

he's not at lunch, he's still sitting at his desk.

his dick is out, in hand.

he's staring at you, in shock, with a slightly grumpy look on his face.

"sir!"

"close the fucking door," he demands, and you oblige quickly, trying to slip out as well, but he stops you. "ah, ah-- you stay. just close the door, and lock it while you're at it."

you do and slowly turn around to face him, and you can't help but to watch the way his fingers tease the head of his cock, brushing across the slit, feeling every contour of the tip.

"is that the finished report?"

"yes sir..."

"bring it to me."

you walk on shaky legs toward him, and his hand goes back to stroking himself as you get closer. you try to lay the report on his desk, but she shakes his head and reaches his free hand out. you give it to him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

"why are you shaking?"

you try to stutter out a response, settling on "i don't know what to do."

"i find that hard to believe," he says slowly, turning toward the empty space beside his chair. "you always know what to do. that's why you're my best assistant."

the praise isn't anything new, he's always far nicer to you than anyone else he works with. you should have known the day he would hit on you or ask you out would come, but you never expected it to happen at work, and not like this.

"yes sir..." you say, slowly rounding his desk until you're standing in front of him. you drop to your knees and he sighs contentedly, leaning his head back against his chair and closing his eyes.

"good girl," he moans when your mouth touches him. "the best."

#bungo stray dogs smut #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs x reader #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa smut #akutagawa headcanons #ranpo x reader #ranpo smut #ranpo headcanons #ango x reader #ango smut #ango headcanons #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bsd headcanons #rampo x reader #rampo headcanons #rampo smut

1K notes · View notes

victoria-grimesss · 9 months

Text

tear you apart - part II

masterlist

-> Pairing: König x fem!reader

-> Words: 3.5k

-> Warning: MDNI! nfsw, fem!reader, dominant!könig, size difference, over the desk, blindfold, unprotected sex, rough sex but there’s aftercare, google translate German.

~> A/N: first time writing smut please go easy on me I beg of thee.

It’s been a couple days since the training session with König. You've built up a nice routine around the new base and made some friendly conversations with some other new recruits both bonding over the complexities of your new home away from home.

Would it be weird to say you miss the presence of the colonel?

Is it strange that you’ve already become so attached to having him near those few times. Having his eyes gaze into you as though you’re all that exists?

No right?

Right.

He haunts your dreams, appears to you when you’re most restless to smooth your hair under his touch and whisper sweet things to you, how he wants to be your eternal love, to live a life filled with passion and fire. Your veins run with lava as his hand in your hair traces down to your neck, so small in my grasp, he tells you, how easy it would be to wrap my hand around and squeeze, he says it so sweetly to you. You hum listlessly, lost in his gaze and willing for his touch. You are mine and mine only you understand? You always wake before he even takes off a glove, you're drenched in sweat and the blankets stick to you. But these dreams are common since you’ve met him. You wonder if he dreams the same; if he’s coming to you in these dreams and expressing his deepest desires.

Silly girl you think, he wouldn’t.

Sometimes you think you see him, the corner of your eyes play tricks on you. He’s too big to move that fast, but you feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your head when you’re in the kitchen making your morning drink at times. It feels the same as it did when he laid eyes on you in the meeting room, electric.

“L/N!” You turn, it’s your captain.

“Sir.”

“Look honey I’m runnin late and these papers need to go to the big guy you mind handing them over? Thanks a lot.” He basically shoved them into your arms and you have to gather them up quickly as to not let them end up as a heap on the cold floor. This whole interaction lasts the better of 30 second.

Your eyes roll at the pet name and how this work could have been shoved on anyone else but no, gotta be the new girl.

A new girl who most definitely totally doesn’t have a crush *ehem* ~ creepy infatuation with the boss. ~

You vaguely remember the way to his office; the captain shot some directions at you as he walked away from handing off his task to you.

To the left then the right then the door second to last one on the right. You repeat these as you readjust your grip on the papers.

As you approach you grow more and more nervous, it’s just your super-hot boss who you’re giving papers to nothing more nothing less. But your hand stays still at your side, your other full of papers.

Just knock.

Your hand is in front of the door, and you knock loudly making your presence known.

“Enter.” He sounds just as he did last time. Domineering.

You open the door slowly, the light in the hall behind you flickers and your heart beats in time with the moth's wings that fly directly towards that light. You feel like that moth drawn to the light.

He sits at his desk, papers in his hand, he’s shed his utility helmet and usual mask for a plain black baklava which is fitting all the same for him. The whole room smells like him, it envelopes you and swallows you whole as you close the door.

His eyes stay on the papers but his concentration isn’t on them anymore, it’s on you.

You’ve come to him, as he thought you would. His mind has been on nothing but you, your file is always on his desk, he’s memorized every word on it.

His favorite colors are now those of your eyes, hair, lips and skin. You’ve become his very own Medusa and he can’t help but become stone when he sees you. If only you knew the grasp you had on him. If only you would grasp him and hold him tight.

“You have something for me yes?” The lamp behind him casts him as a shadow and illuminates his figure but his eyes are bright.

You walk closer, the room is quiet besides some soft music on the record player on the far side of the room next to another door.

“The captain requested I bring you these papers, important intel I suppose.”

“Shame. And here I was thinking you’ve just come to visit me.” There’s that teasing tone again.

Your cheeks heat up despite your best effort to maintain a cool façade. You’re upset you don’t have a mask to hide your expression.

You hand him the papers, neatly organized now. He reaches with one hand and takes them from you, his gloved hand brushes yours and you lock eyes, goosebumps race up your arm from the point of contact.

You grin and look down.

“I would think you’d have more interesting visitors than me colonel.”

He grows stiff at your mention of rank, calling him by his title.

His eyes scan the papers noting the important parts.

“Schatz, you are the most important visitor I’ve had the honor of having.” His gaze is heavy on you.

You are still at his words, is he insinuating what you think he is?

He’s holding bait right in front of your face.

“I highly doubt that sir, a guy like you must have many visitors….I’m sure you have many beautiful suitors.”

You bite.

He chuckles, it’s low and deep and he groans at the end.

“I have my eyes on one Ja. She has become the object of my attraction.”

Your heart skips a beat wondering if he means another woman besides you. You bite your lip wearing at the skin. You open your mouth to start and then close it.

He watches your mouth as you do so and wishes to feel it upon him, as you take him wholly.

“Speak, do not hold your tongue.”

“I-I um I suppose I’m just curious as to what woman could gain your attraction. To be honest sir I thought you were married.”

His attention is most definitely no longer on the papers, or anything job related. His mind wholly encompassed by you and your words.

He hums lowly and you imagine that it vibrates his chest.

“Come to this side of my desk Schatz.”

You obey, walking to the other side of his desk and standing next to him, facing the door you entered in.

“My desk, do you see any family portraits?”

“No sir.”

He takes off his gloves and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.

“Do you see a wedding band?”

“No sir.”

After this he stands, his full height towering above you combined with the soft music, dim lighting, and the way he looks down at you makes your knees weak and your lower stomach burn. He walks over to the door you entered and stands for a moment. You wonder if you’ve asked too much, dug yourself a hole and he’s about to ask you to leave.

“I’m sorry if I stepped over the line I didn’t mean it, I can leave if you want.” He locks the door. Your heart locks up all the same at the sound.

“No, Schatz I’d rather you stay, and I think you'd rather stay too. Am I right?” He turns his head to look at you and the way he’s standing you can see all the muscles in his back defined from the lighting and you yearn to rake your nails over them and leave a well-deserved mark.

“I would.” Your words are breathy, and you hardly know if you spoke at all but his response confirms you did.

He walks back over to you and your feet are stuck in cement. He stops when he's behind you. You can hear his breathing behind you so you know he’s actually there, he's real and this is real.

“You know I watch you right? Does it frighten you?”

“No colonel.”

“None of that here, not anymore. Just König ok Süßes Mädchen

Your knees actually nearly do give out this time, God he’s too much. Your breathing is quick now and you feel feverish he’s not even touching you yet but standing there and you don’t know what will kill you first your rapid heart rate or the anticipation.

“You want me, Ja?

“God yes.” You nearly whine and he lets out a deep laugh. He readjusts his stance.

“Do you usually get this worked up before you’re even touched?” His voice is lighter now, he’s teasing.

“Only for you.” You say almost immediately.

“Say that again.” His voice is dark again and it makes your stomach twirl.

“Only for you König.” You’ve stepped headfirst into the lion’s den and you know there's no going back from this, you thought it was just a silly crush but this is so much more, for the both of you.

He inhales deeply and lets it out, even with his mask you can feel it lightly on the back of your head.

His head is spinning with thoughts of what he wants to do to you, you were making him crazy.

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, Liebling, du wirst mein Tod sein.” [I swear to God darling, you will be my death.] You're not sure what he said but you hear his groan at the end so it must be erotic.

“Konig, please.”

“Shhh quiet Schätzchen.”

There's a beat of silence and you think your heart stops then you feel his hand on your back. It travels up until he gets to your hair, he grabs a handful of it but doesn't pull or tug, just holds. You’re growing wetter by the minute and you ache deeply. You rub your thighs together and that’s when he pulls.

He tugs you back into him and your head is pointed up now so he's looking directly down at you. You whimper and his eyes are nearly pitch black as he stares at you, he drinks you in as if you’re the last bit of water on earth.

“Scheisse you know if we do this there is not going back, I will not let you lay with another and I will never lay with anyone besides you.” His words echo in your head and you weigh your options,

Option A: sleep with König, your superior and maybe face some very serious consequences.

or…

Options B: go back to your room and absolutely resort you what’s in your bedside drawer to relieve yourself…..

Survey says, option A all the way.

“I wouldn't want it any other way sir.” You make sure to say it extra breathily as to draw him into the spiral he's sent you into.

His grip tightens ever so before he releases and you stumble a bit but a hand on your waist catches you and the coals within you are stoked even more to where they rage into an inferno.

“I would like to share more of myself with you eventually but for now... This will have to do.”

He says no more before fabric is enclosed around your eyes and your vision darkens. It must be his regular mask because it smells so strongly of him it makes you dizzy, his scent all encompassing.

“König.”

“My name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips, I beg to hear more of it.”

His hands, both of them, are on your middle now he holds you steady and moves them upwards and cups your breasts above your uniform you let out a soft breath.

He closes his eyes and inhales deep against your crown.

“I knew you would smell wonderful Mein Schatz. You feel like heaven in my hands you know that?”

His hands move to the buttons of your uniform and he wastes no time in discarding it to the ground along with your undershirt.

“Turn around.”

You turn around and he once again grabs tight on your hair pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

He pulls up his baklava knowing he won’t be seen.

He bites.

Hard.

You let out a shameless moan and quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but he grabs your wrist and holds it behind you back your other hand is grabbing onto his hair.

“You’ll express your pleasure. I want everyone to hear so they know I’m occupied.”

He’s sucking dark bruises into your neck and leaving teeth marks in his wake. He lavishes in the way your skin tastes. He knows you sweat at some point today and your perfume is on his tongue.

“König please, I need more.”

“Gladly.” You feel him smile on your skin.

Next thing you know you’re spun around again and you’re pushed down over the desk his hand heavy on your neck.

“Stay.” He commands.

His hand is removed and he works at your pants pulling them down and to your ankles, he slides his hands all around the newly exposed skin and you hear his drop to his knees.

“Mein Gott, you are something to behold, you are beautiful you know that?”

You blush the heat growing hotter between your thighs.

There’s no time to respond before he’s diving into your heat tongue hot and wet upon you as he sucks and licks like his life depends on it.

“You taste divine, I could die here and die a happy man Liebling, scheiße”

You moan and your cheek touches the cold wood of the desk as he continues his ravaging.

“König please, I need-need more.”

He hears your pleas and it spurs him on, he’s desperately hard in his pants and palms at it a few times before collecting your wetness and entering one then two fingers.

“Is this enough for you? Or do you need more? So bedürftig.” He teases as he pumps them in the out in a come-hither motion getting quicker and quicker.

Your breathing picks up. It’s in short pants now as you get close and closer to the edge. He can feel you squeezing his fingers tighter and he latches his mouth back on as his fingers works faster.

“Come on Schatz give me a show.” He smiles and teases and he just can’t get enough even as you try to thrash and tense on his fingers reaching your high you chant his name and he’s heard nothing sweeter.

“You make such beautiful noises Meine Liebe .” He bites at the inside of your thighs as he stands.

You hear a belt buckle and a zipper undone, mouthwatering in anticipation as you’re still coming down from your previous high.

He takes himself out and strokes it slowly a few times placing a hard harshly on your hip as he lines himself up and teases the tip at your entrance.

He’s massive compared to you and he’s burning up looking and predicting the way you’ll feel around him.

“Schatz, one last chance to change your mind.” He grits through his teeth.

“Please König, I need you badly.”

He takes not a second longer after you answer to sink fully into you and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s huge, incredible deliciously huge and the stretch of him knocks the breath from your lungs and he bends over you, his whole body laying just above you so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“You feel even more incredible than I could ever dream, you wrap around me so sweetly.”

He pulls back and braces both of his hands on your hips with a bruising grip and starts moving, he’s deliberate and calculated with his movements thrusting deep and harsh.

You moan loudly with the blindfold all your other senses are heightened. You grasp and scratch behind you trying to slow his movements you mind hazy with only thought of how good he’s making you feel.

“P-please, god König.” You can hardly make out your own thoughts, he groans and continues his onslaught of torture on you.

You try to slow him again but this time he takes a hold of your wrists and slams them down onto the desk. You continue to moan with abandonment.

“You’ll take what given to you, understand?” He leans down and kisses your cheek, panting you can feel the sweat on his face combining with yours.

Leaning back, he watches the way he enters you and the noises are unholy, seeing you bent over his desk so willing and drunk off of him nearly makes him cum right then and there.

Suddenly a knock at the door.

He doesn’t stop and you clamp both hands over your mouth now. He growls deep in his chest.

“Busy.” He grits out.

They knock again but he doesn’t stop.

“Are you fucking kidding me? c’mon be a good girl and let them know I’m busy.” His accent is heavy and laced with need.

You can hardly think straight and his words sound underwater. You only become semi-conscious again when he picks you by your shoulder, up holding you up to his chest by your neck as he continues his onslaught.

“Take your hands off your mouth unless you want me to tie those up too, I told you to tell them I’m busy.” He growls right by your ear and he thrust particularly hard and deep you choke on your sobs and a moan rips from your throat. It’s so erotic you hardly recognize yourself, the last knock was cut short, and you hear quick shuffling down the hallway.

“Braves Mädchen, so good for me. Fuck, need you to cum with me I won’t last much longer.”

“F-fuuck don’t stop.”

The coil within you is growing and winding and you feel you’re heading headfirst into a spiral panting and calling his name with no care for the outside world you reach up and claw at what you can reach of his expansive shoulders certainly leaving marks and he groans and grinds to show his appreciation.

“Cmon, give it to me, give it to me.” He says, each thrust his hand on your hips growing even tighter and his thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his high. He grips your jaw now slipping a finger into your mouth and you taste yourself on them and the coil snaps.

Your ears are ringing, white blinds your vision, and you’re overcome with oxytocin unlike no other.

König fills you deeply grinding to the hilt so none of him is left exposed.

You feel boneless and limp in his arms but completely and utterly satisfied.

The blindfold is removed and he’s tapping your cheek, the finger that was in your mouth leaving spit in its wake but you have no care.

“Y/N, Y/N, come in back to me Schatz.” You open your eyes and hum.

“So good.” You hiccup and you see he has his baklava fully on but his eyes are crescent shape, his eyes look lovely when he’s smiling.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He’s pulling out and you wince but he’s quickly pulling his desk chair out for you to sit and gain you sanity back.

“That’s putting it lightly...” you can’t seem to wipe the dumb smile plastered on your face.

He’s pulling up his pants and re-buckling his belt, you get butterflies watching him do it.

He then walks to what looks like a bathroom connected to the office, coming back with a washcloth and cleans you gently kissing the top of your head.

“Cmon let’s get you dressed then yeah. As much as I love seeing you in my chair like that, we’ll play that scenario out another day.” He picks up your panties and stuffs them into his pocket and helps you put on your pants.

“I need those König.”

“I’ll buy you some more, these are for my personal collection.” You huff, legs feeling like jelly, and he rubs your back as you’re buttoning your jacket.

“Very well, I won’t fight a losing battle for those, at least they’re not my favorite pair-

“I’d like those as well.”

“Stop it!” You both laugh and he sounds so wonderful worry free.

He gives you some water and sits back at his desk. You stand in the same spot you were in before everything happened.

“That was a great pleasure and I hope it brought you the same.” God he’s so formal after just rearranging your guts, you laugh like a schoolgirl.

“I did, I um, would love to do this again, or just spend more time with you.”

His heart lights up and he knows he’s got you for good,

“Schatz, my door is always open to you, granted both my office and bedroom door.” He winks at you and you blush.

You walk to the door and look back at him before you leave.

“Don’t forget about those papers I brought you.” You fake authority.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs and watches you until the door is closed.

He takes your panties out of his pocket already missing your presence next to him, next time can’t come soon enough.

2K notes · View notes

bunnyreaper · 7 months

Text

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘

𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

𝖕𝖙 2 — 𝖕𝖙 1 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊, 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊

wc - 5.2k

warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, smut, phone sex, wee bit of angst, brief mention of the word 'daddy'

notes - vibrating with both excitement and fear, but hoping y'all love this like you loved the last one!! also on ao3! ♥

Johnny was right to send you to bed when he did because you're already struggling to get through the day, and on any less sleep, you might have fallen asleep at your desk. Clearly, you're terrible at making decisions for yourself, if that wasn't already evidenced by the nearly empty fridge accompanied by the pile of empty takeout containers.

It's not even the end of the workday yet, and you're beat—except staying up with Johnny was so worth it, getting to hear his voice and everything he said was complete bliss. You only wish he was here now, whispering in your ear and making your day go by quicker. Unfortunately, the sad reality is that beyond your good morning text, you haven't heard from him since, and you hate that you already feel like you're suffering from withdrawals.

Again, that could be the lack of sleep, or adequate nutrition, or the fact that lately you haven't exactly been the most social person, and you've definitely been missing social contact. All of that missing need you just want to be filled by Johnny, Johnny, Johnny—his name like a chanted prayer in your mind.

You at least have the sense of mind to focus when you need to, but at any idle moment, Johnny crawls back into your brain. Your mind drifts to wondering what he's up to, wondering where in the world they've shipped him off to this time—what timezone is he even in? What hemisphere?

5 p.m. comes round sooner than you expect, and you find yourself logging off from your work laptop with a relieved sigh. You might be exhausted from lack of sleep, but Johnny's arrival in your life left you energised in a way you hadn't felt in so long. Every part of you hums with excitement, thinking about what the future might hold.

You have to keep snapping yourself out of getting lost in the fantasy, even as you find yourself rereading through texts and committing Johnny's words to memory. The last time you did this still sticks in the back of your mind, still stings—someone who came into your life and was everything until they were nothing. Someone who said they could be trusted as they broke down your barriers.

The aching loneliness was too much, so you'd run from it straight into something worse, not even realising how easily you fell into the trap.

Your thoughts were spiraling, and you needed a distraction, so you put on the TV in the hopes of getting lost in the shitty reality dating show you've been watching lately.

A few hours later, the buzz of your phone pulls you from the drama of the screen—your spirits soaring as you see the little icon you're rapidly growing attached to.

Evening bonnie, hope you're not napping too close to bed time.

hi!! no... for once, lol. how was your day?

Long, but thoughts of you got me through ;) how was yours?

The rapid responses mean your smile never has time to waver, as your eyes are glued to the screen watching as the messages are read, the app tells you he is typing and then another one of his messages appears.

Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you eagerly respond.

somehow managed to not fall asleep at my desk, i would've napped but...

But?

didn't want to risk missing any messages from you.

Johnny heart reacts to the message immediately.

Call?

please!!!

Mere seconds later, his face fills the screen once more, and your sheer excitement overtakes your nerves by far.

"Hi." You say shyly, as soon as you accept the call.

"Hi bonnie, gotcha on loudspeaker by the way." He greets you, his voice immediately sending warmth through you.

You were rapidly growing obsessed with his terms of endearment, too.

"Oh." You pause, suddenly self-conscious and hesitant. "Are you not alone?" Does anyone in his life even know you exist? You know you haven't really mentioned to your friends that you're 'dating' again.

"Definitely am, don't worry. Jus' need ma hands free."

At that, your brow furrows, your voice filling with both mischief and disbelief. "What are you doing, Johnny?"

He chuckles, before rustling some papers around. "Paperwork, nothing fun."

Even hearing the word paperwork right now drains you, and can hear that Johnny isn't exactly pleased with the idea either.

"Wishing I was under the desk again?" You ask, hoping your playful tone will make him smile.

"Dinnae start." He groans. "What are you doing? Have you eaten?"

"Not yet, I need to check my milk is still in date." You throw yourself off the sofa and make your way through to the kitchen—it's a good job Johnny actually poked you to eat.

"Milk?" His voice is filled with confusion.

"For cereal."

"Ach."

"I can feel your disapproval from here." You can practically sense him shaking his head disapprovingly too.

"Good, I see how this gonae be." He sighs, the disappointment evident, along with that sense of control, guidance.

It just makes you tingle.

"Yes, daddy?" You giggle audaciously like you know exactly what you're doing, and hope it has the effect you want it to.

Johnny chokes, and then growls... and then sighs. "Away n bile yer heid." He whispers, yet he sounds anything but angry, his voice thick with arousal as he undoubtedly fights all kinds of urges.

You want to take that step with Johnny, to dirty talk with him now that you feel comfortable, but you suppose now isn't the time—after all, he is still working.

"I'm being mean now, sorry."

"A right brat." He growls playfully. "Do something for me, lass?"

The shift in his tone and the previous conversation topic gives you a good guess at what's coming next. "Is it cooking a real meal?" You groan playing into the role.

Well, admittedly committing to self-care tasks like cooking isn't the easiest thing in the world, and having someone to guide you in that is... a turn-on.

"Knew you were a smart girl." He purrs, and those words turn your brain and your body to mush.

You have to stifle a whine from leaving you, as your face flushes furiously. Oh, how you wish you could hear that over and over again—in that voice, with that accent, whispered right in your ear as he—

"What you gonna cook?" He asks, interrupting your rapidly spiraling thoughts.

Staring into the fridge is a depressing experience—the shelves are mostly bare and there's a faint smell of something off. "Ugh, I don't have a lot in, to be honest."

"Logging onto the Tesco website now, or maybe meal delivery service..." He muses, and you can imagine the smirk on his lips.

"Johnny!" Your protest is weak, as the coddling and infantalisation make you feel something you probably shouldn't.

He snickers at your tone, but he knows now that if things are to continue, he won't listen to your objections. "Jokin'... for now. Talk me through yer fridge, lass."

"Do you cook?" You ask, wondering if he's going to magically talk you through a recipe with the condiments in your fridge and the dried pasta in the pantry.

There's a beat of silence. "Not often."

You're overcome with a fit of giggles and a wave of faux offense. "Then who are you to lecture me?"

Johnny meets your exclamation with a series of tuts, which already quiet your discontent, but you find yourself ruined when his voice drops and he delivers his next few words. "What happened to 'Johnny knows best'?"

Fuck him, using his powers for good—and you can already tell he's getting off on it too. Today, you won't indulge him by submissively repeating it back, since he's making you face the horror that is cooking.

"Fine." You sigh, looking for what items in the fridge that are actually still in date. You pull open a cupboard or two as well. "I have... hummus and celery and uh, supernoodles in the cupboard."

"Better than cereal." He waits for your response that doesn't come, as you pout on the end of the phone, and then he plays his next move flawlessly. "For me, bonnie girl?"

The plea in his voice makes you melt, makes you want to do just about anything for him.

"For you." You say with a smile, grabbing the packets of noodles and a saucepan. "Have you eaten?"

"A have, chicken tikka masala."

You sigh, knowing that if not for Johnny you could've ordered a nice Indian for yourself—you get to work on the noodles anyway. "Kinda jealous now, if I'm honest."

His laugh is short but earnest. "Same, haven't had beefy supernoodles in an age."

"Yeah, I would hope they're feeding you actually decent, nutritious food over there."

He huffs. "I would hope you're feeding yerself decent food, but here we are." That playful judgement is back, lacing his words and making you crave his approval.

It's a startling thought, that here you are, only a few days in and needing his praise, his encouragement—you suppose it comes easy as it plays into both of your natural instincts—his to lead, yours to follow.

"Less sass, more... paperwork." You grumble playfully, trying to cover up the fact that, maybe, you like being teased by him.

"Aye." He laughs, and you can briefly hear him scribbling in the silence.

For a few moments, it's just the sound of him writing and you cooking, but the quiet feels comfortable rather than awkward—strangely routine and domestic after such a short space of time.

Your mind wanders back to what the two of you had discussed last night, about his day later in the week. "Have you thought more about Friday?"

There's a brief shuffle and the sound of the call changes as Johnny seems to take you off the loudspeaker and moves around. "Meetin' you?"

"Yeah." There's a sense of nervousness within you, a fear he's going to suddenly decide that he doesn't want to see you after all, that he doesn't see this going anywhere. It's so soon, and yet the thought seems crushing.

"Haven't thought of much else." His confession seems to settle your rapidly beating heart just a little, the sincerity in his voice making your stomach twist and turn.

Maybe you shouldn't push it, but you want to meet him more than anything, so you can make the first step toward all of this becoming real. "Would you be up for coffee? I can come to you!"

"About that..." His sigh is weary, and panic overtakes you as the silence stretches on. "Am leaving for a week or so."

It's not a total rejection at least, but somehow it still stings, still settles heavy and unpleasant in your gut. "When?"

"Tomorrow." He falls silent, waiting for you to say something, yet you don't know what words to even summon right now. "'m sorry, lass."

You take a deep breath for a moment, collecting your thoughts as you stir your noodles and try to put everything you feel into some sort of coherent order.

There's no logical reason to feel rejected, as it's not that he doesn't want the date, but that he can't. Perhaps it's that lingering thought that this kind of thing will be a frequent occurrence—it's just a small taste of what's to come. But wanting Johnny means handling this, like he deserves.

You push through the discomfort and force yourself into a more positive mindset.

"But... after that? Or is this just because you hate coffee so much you're fleeing the country?" You laugh softly, hoping the joke will lighten the thick atmosphere.

"Now, if you'd asked me out for tea..." He laughs in return, before turning serious. "But... when I'm back, I'd love to see you. Have ta, really. "

"I'm glad." The beaming smile on your face is ridiculous, and you're so thankful he can't see you grinning like an idiot at his words. He has to meet you.

With your cooking complete, you take the saucepan off the stove and pour the noodles into a bowl, grabbing it before returning to the comfort of the couch. "Okay, noodles done."

"Wanna call me back once yer done, or?"

Fuck, he's so considerate.

You hum negatively as you start to blow on the noodles to cool them. "I'll eat on the phone if you don't mind the sound of me slurping."

Johnny chuckles, before making a suggestive noise.

"The noodles, Johnny."

He coughs, covering more juvenile laughter. "Aye, the noodles, of course."

"So... going anywhere fun?" You ask, referencing his upcoming deployment.

"Classified, I'm afraid." He answers curtly, but you know it's nothing more than his duty.

No questions about that, then, you suppose. It's going to be a strange thing to adjust to, but it's another thing that comes along with accepting Johnny into your life. You change your line of questioning, hopefully to something he can answer. "Are you... scared?"

"No." He answers quickly and firmly, in a manner that suggests certainty rather than bravado. "Don't worry about me, hen." He rushes to add.

"Kinda hard not to, even if we only just met..." You sigh, but you suppose you have to trust Johnny's skills and training. "I imagine it only gets more intense from here."

The admission feels like a swift kick to the stomach.

"Yeah..." You hear a knock on the door from Johnny's end, and he swears colourfully under his breath. "Ach, can I call yer back?"

It's almost cruel the way such timing drives the point home.

"Sure, things to attend to?" You ask absentmindedly, not really expecting an answer.

He sighs, before trying to turn his tone more positive. "Aye, but I'll catch you before bed, yeah?"

"Yeah. Bye, Johnny."

"Bye, lass."

He ends the call, leaving you with your meal and your thoughts.

Maybe you aren't strong enough to deal with this after all, you think, trying to settle the ugly, gnawing feeling inside you. It already hurts, but maybe that's because you're trying to hold so tight onto something intangible. Maybe if you and Johnny become something, mean something to each other, it'll all be easier to deal with.

It's an hour or so later when you're tucked up in bed that Johnny's call lights up your phone. You pick it up instantly.

"Hey, glad you haven't fallen asleep already." He chuckles, his voice softer than before.

"Mmm, still hanging on." You mumble, cheek pressed into plushness and tiredness lingering at the back of your mind, as well as the mess of feelings that still simmers within you.

"Cuddled up with the big B?" He asks, voice cheeky and charming.

You can't help the soft giggle at the ridiculous nickname. "The big B?!"

"Barnaby!" He clarifies with a hearty laugh, not ashamed at all of his goofiness.

"The big B! That's so silly"

The laughs quiet, and another silence falls, but this time you feel the discomfort that comes with it.

Johnny is the first to breach it, his tone tinged with worry. "How are yer?"

"I'm fine." You sigh, not wanting to elaborate and get yourself upset again. It's not far from the truth. Nothing has changed, but this is something you have to learn to sit with, have to make peace with for both of your sake.

Johnny cuts right through the noise. "Yer seemed a little upset earlier. Wanna talk about it?"

Communication—the key to any good relationship, an essential to any kinky one, and one thing you think you really kind of suck at.

It's a simple sentence with a simple answer, and nothing about Johnny suggests that his reaction will be anything other than supportive—but it's not Johnny's voice that whispers cruel things in the back of your head. And for now, Johnny's influence is not enough to quiet the storm.

The fear grips at your heart, stops your words right in your throat, but your mind wars between the ghosts of your past and the duty of your present and future.

Johnny waits quietly, not pushing you for an answer or assuming how you feel, and that small act helps pull you out of the fog and helps you force yourself to speak.

"Reality setting in, I guess." The words don't come easy at first, your throat tight—but once you start, the rest just seems to flow, taking the weight of your burdens with them. "Like, it's not too bad right now, it's just... knowing what's in store? Assuming we keep talking."

The opportunity to really put your thoughts in order and get them out actually does help, surprisingly.

Johnny goes silent for a moment, considering your words before he speaks. "If you wanna stop—"

"I don't." You feel bad for interrupting him, but you already know that's not what you want, even if he sees it as a kindness. "Like I said yesterday, I'm not faint-hearted... the intensity just took me by surprise. All of this has, really."

"I'm with you there. Sat here thinking about how I'm gonna be thinking of anything else when I'm on the mission." He laughs softly, the sound laden with emotion. "Lt's gonna have my head."

The gravity of his job sinks in now, with the realisation that he will be busy and focused, and rightfully so.

"Will you be able to get in touch while you're gone?" You ask, more for informational purposes, rather than being unable to last a week without hearing his voice.

"Not a whole lot, no. Sometimes no' at all, but I'll let you know when I can." He states plainly, and the honesty is so refreshing.

"I'll try not to bother you too much then." You giggle, though you don't really mean your words. He has his mission, and you have yours—stay strong while he's gone.

He scoffs instantly. "You? A bother? Never."

You hum, continuing with your playful statements. "You haven't seen me when I'm clingy."

"A like clingy, am clingy too."

Ugh, just when you think he can't be more perfect, he comes out with that. The sweet smile on your face is relentless, and you just know the same is true for him too. "Oh yeah? So you won't be complaining when we meet, and I just take a hold of your hand and don't let go."

His barked laugh is so genuine that it makes your heart sing. "Bold of yer to assume I'd be letting you go, lass."

The thought of even his hand in yours is enough to send you into a frenzy—a simple, delicate, and chaste act, yet you crave it like nothing else. When your date finally does come around, you'll be able to touch him and see him up close. You'll be able to hear that voice and those words up close and unrestrained by the slightly shitty quality of the phone call—and that is a little terrifying.

"I guess waiting isn't a bad thing after all, maybe I'll be less nervous by then." Because right now you know you'd hesitate to reach out and touch him, would struggle looking him in the eye for too long. Maybe if you wait, the radiance that is Johnny's warmth will wear off, but somehow you doubt it.

"Why ya nervous?"

You almost snort at such an oblivious question from such a seemingly smart man. "Have you seen you?" Have you talked to you? Been on the end of your affections? Your mind pleads.

"See this ugly mug every day." He grumbles, though you can still hear the smile.

"You can't see, but I'm rolling my eyes." You giggle. "But what if I just... can't resist you? Jump you right then and there?" Your voice takes on a more teasing tone.

"In public?" He tuts, slow and sexy, his voice dropping low. "Naughty girl."

You straight up whimper. "Needy girl, for you."

A growl leaves his throat, along with a whispered "Fuck."

Arousal floods through you, overtakes you, as you feel your mind slipping to a space of deep-seated need, all for him. You feel on fire, your skin hypersensitive to the brush of the sheets, as your lower body hums and begs for attention. No longer can you hold yourself back from falling under his sexy spell. "Your groans, your voice, it all drives me crazy."

The laugh that leaves him is weaker, choked with arousal. "All wet fer me, bonnie?" His voice, now a touched graveled, wraps so wonderfully around every word.

"Soaked." You squirm in place, not even needing to feel to know just how dripping you are—every time he teases you, you practically gush. Your spare hand dives below the sheets, tracing ever so slightly over your stomach as it crawls lower. "Johnny?"

"Yes, bonnie?" It sounds like his control is wavering too.

"Please can I touch? I need it so bad." You whine and plead, surrendering yourself to Johnny's command.

"You don't—" Another growl leaves his throat, you hear him shuffle and when his voice returns, he sounds even more aroused than before—sweet, gentle domination drips from his tone. "Touch yerself, go on."

You comply immediately, your hand diving under your waistband and zeroing in on your swollen clit—relief floods you the second you make contact, your fingers rubbing delicate swirls on your soaked nub as gentle moans force themselves free.

"Oh fuck." Johnny's breathing is ragged between his groans. "Gonna have tae join ya."

"Fuckfuckfuck." Your eyes slip shut as you imagine him reaching down to free his aching cock, all for you. Your thoughts center on conjuring up an image of how long and thick you imagine him to be. "Is... is your cock as big as the rest of you?"

You squeak out your words while you still have command over the English language.

"Guess you'll find out soon enough." He chuckles breathlessly, some of the words catching in his throat as he clearly works himself. "But I don't think you'll be disappointed. I know how tae take care of yer, know you're already desperate for me."

Your circles quicken, his words sending pleasure coursing through you in a way that almost feels better than your touch. You fill the air with breathy moans. "Need you, Johnny."

"Need you too, pet." He growls his words over the building slick sound.

"Oh fuck." Your reaction is instant, the word sending everything in your brain into overdrive. Pet. Pet. You almost cum right then and there, but his assault on your senses and sensibilities continues.

"God, thinking about you on the end of a leash for me? So fuckin' hard thinking about it." His voice modulates between and whine and a growl, his need growing furiously. "I'd be so fuckin' lucky."

You imagine the collar slipping around your neck, imagine Johnny clicking shut a lock and attaching a leash—pulling you to him just as he is now with every word.

"I'd be the most loyal pet ever, I swear." You start to babble, unable to hold back any longer on the wave of submission that overtakes you. "I'll Wait for you to come home, naked and kneeling with my leash ready."

"Jesus, fuck." Each grunt that leaves him makes you shiver. Each word like its own bolt of electricity straight from his body to yours. "Yeah, my good girl would be so lost without me." He says it with such certainty, speaking the truth to life.

"I get separation anxiety like mad. I'll miss your touch, miss your smell, miss your taste—" You cut yourself off with a high-pitched whine, your fingers working you so fucking close to the edge.

"Don't worry, I'd fuck you so good before I go bonnie, fill yer up and leave you dripping with me." His groans are accompanied by more of those slick sounds. "Mark that pretty neck o' yours, too."

"I'm... I'm not gonna last." You admit, holding back even now from cumming—you crave his permission.

"Me either. Go on, moan for me, let me hear you." He urges you gently, even if his voice is filled with need.

You let all your noises flow freely as you teeter toward the edge and desperately try to please him with the sounds you make. It's all too good, too much, too overwhelming.

"Johnny, can I—"

His demand is out of his mouth before you can even finish your sentence. "Cum fer me, bonnie. Go on."

You cum with a strangled cry, flying over the edge right as Johnny demands it. The build-up of the past few days along with Johnny's noises has you shaking in ecstasy—ecstasy that's only prolonged when he cums too with a long, drawn-out groan.

After a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, as you come down from your high.

"Oh my god." You sigh, a silly, blissed-out grin overtaking your features.

"You okay, sweet girl?" His voice returns to that sweetness you're coming to know and love.

You nod mindlessly, even though he can't see you. "Better than okay, are you?"

He hums in affirmation, before his voice turns a touch serious. "You did so good. Just want tae make sure you're good, and a didn't go too far."

"Hah, I mean, nowhere near too far." You admit shakily.

"Am glad, it's only early days, though. That trust..." He hesitates.

"... It takes a while, yeah." The post-orgasmic bliss coupled with the feeling of that trust taking root and growing. "I'm glad you understand."

And he understands perfectly, as you never feel pushed or rushed, only pampered and adored.

"Of course... it's special, for both of us." He admits, and you know you're on the same wavelength when it comes to the bond and relationship between dominant and submissive.

"Mhmm." You hum dreamily, wholeheartedly agreeing and yet not able to summon up something profound.

"Already sleepy?" His laughter is soft and sincere.

"I'd get so much rest if every night was like this."

"Even more so when I finally get to fuck ya, bonnie." He whispers so casually, yet even after your orgasm your clit still thrums with interest—God, he has such a hold on you.

"Yeah?" You sigh, dreaming of the day you'll get to experience it.

"Yeah."

The line falls silent, and you feel yourself fading.

"I'm sorry, I'm so... sleepy." You whisper while you still have the chance.

"It's okay, sweet girl, close yer eyes. Am right here." Johnny's sweet voice lulls you closer and closer, and your phone falls free from your hand to your pillow, resting there with Johnny just on the end of the line.

"Goodnight Johnny." You mumble, before sleep finally takes you.

"Goodnight, Bonnie." His reply is soft, carrying you off to unconsciousness as he drifts off too.

-//-

Johnny practically vibrates where he stands—wired beyond belief. Part of it is his usual pre-mission adrenaline, but the events of the past few days especially almost have him climbing the walls. His energy is frenetic as usual but with so much more—lust, yearning, withdrawal.

It's only been a few hours since he ended the call after waking up before you, and yet he finds his thoughts unable to leave you, even as he finishes gearing up. You'd love to see him like this, and an idea strikes him.

He pulls out his phone, turns to the man beside him, and hopes he doesn't regret asking. Then again, some ribbing from the masked man would be nothing compared to the floored reaction he'd get from you.

"Ghost?" He asks, piercing the comfortable silence between the two of them.

"What?" Ghost turns, eyeing Johnny and his hand holding his outstretched phone.

Johnny doesn't waver, sure in his request, and eager to see your response. "Take a picture of me, yeah?"

"Girl back home?" Ghost asks, cutting straight to the point as he takes the phone. "Is this the first time she's seeing you? Cause you look fuckin' rough."

"No." Johnny frowns, and worry washes over him. Surely Lt. is just messing him around—he knows she'll be happy to see him either way.

Ghost pulls off a glove and navigates to the camera before stepping back and holding up the phone in Johnny's direction. He might be giving Johnny shit, but he at least takes the time to angle and position the frame in a way that compliments Johnny's stature. "She like the tac gear?"

Johnny sighs, wishing this was over already. "Just take the picture, Ghost."

"Say cheese." Ghost deadpans, and the softest of smiles graces Johnny's features—for her, not for him.

Johnny practically snatches the phone back from Ghost's hands, checking out the photo immediately. "Thanks."

He pulls up their messages immediately, firing off the picture with a kissing face and a teasing message just for her.

When he locks the phone and throws it in his bag, Ghost's eyes are fixed on him, his blackened eyes narrowed.

"Mind on the mission, yeah, Johnny?"

Johnny nods, doing his best to push thoughts of her away for now, and letting his inner soldier take over. He'll be back to her before he knows it. "Aye, Lt."

Days later, and after a successful first phase of the mission, Johnny stares down at his phone. The signal is nonexistent and won't return for a while, but he misses you, his mind is itching with his need for you. In this shitty safe house in the middle of nowhere, while someone else is on watch, there's very little to do, and truly nothing else he'd rather think about.

He scrolls to the top of your messages, rereading each message and reliving each conversation, experiencing all over again how each message made him feel.

Your sweet texts, your copious use of emojis, and your cute little selfies—it was all so intoxicating to him. For a man who was so used to maintaining focus, you were a fucking curveball. Something about you just sends his protective instincts into overdrive, makes unearned possessive tendrils curl up through him and around his heart—calls out to his guiding, dominant, caring side.

He has to constantly stamp down the thoughts inside that called out to him to find you, scoop you up, and take you home with him. Luckily for you both, Johnny is a patient man. He spends time out in the field waiting days for anything interesting to happen, he's spent years waiting for his pet, his girl to come along—and you're right there. He can wait a little longer.

He holds down the record button, intent on recording a message for you, and begins whispering into the phone.

"Hi, been sat on my arse for far too long with nothing to do but think of you. Dinnae think I'll get signal anytime soon, but I 'spose it'll send at some point." He feels himself relax just a little as he falls into Johnny, the man—rather than Soap, the soldier.

"Been thinking about our first date, since you mentioned coffee. Kinda had a crazy idea actually, but I need your input. What about a cat café? Has to be one in that city o' yours, and I figure you must like kitties."

"Won't be long until you might be one for me... or a bunny... or a puppy." He interrupts himself with a sigh.

"Need tae stop those thoughts and quit while I'm ahead. Let me know, yeah? As soon as I get my leave, we'll set it up."

"Talk soon, bonnie."

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfic #soap mw2 #i swear i should get a beta reader for this series #i feel bad bcs im posting ch2 so soon with NO idea when 3 is coming #eventually???#love you all so much #collars and cages

818 notes · View notes

writingforstraykids · 3 months

Text

I owe you a kiss

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 4344

Summary: As the upcoming comeback gets closer, Chan starts isolating himself from you and Minho, getting overwhelmed. He can't quite deal with feeling so much and nothing at all at the same time and takes it out on the two of you. Minho and you try to help your husband out.

Warnings/Tags: angst, fluff, argument, chan feels numbish, fear of flying, domestic married life, emotional hurt/comfort, angsty!chan, soft!min

A/N: I don't know where that came from, but enjoy me fabricating 4k of angst and domestic bullshit in like half an hour😭🥹

PART TWO

My mind is complicated Find it hard to rearrange it But I'll have to find a way somehow Overreacting lately Find it hard to say I'm sorry Still - Niall Horan

You gently knock at the doorframe to your bedroom to avoid startling your husband and step inside. “You have everything you need, darling?”

Minho's currently packing his suitcase for his trip lasting a week. He looks up, gently blowing his hair from his eyes. “I think so, yes,” he flashes you a warm smile. After checking everything once more, he nods and throws the suitcase closed. "Where's our Channie love?" he asks, pulling the zipper closed and fidgeting with the lock.

"Working," Chan gives back from next door.

"Of course you are," he says more to himself, making you giggle. Over the past few days, Chan grew very quiet, burying himself in work and avoiding you for most of the time. It happened sometimes before a busy schedule, and Minho had learned to deal with the fact that Chan needed this to recharge. Minho, Chan and you had been dating for four years before tying the knot five years ago. He knows the two of you inside out by now after almost a decade. Minho strolls into Chan's working area and rests his hands on his shoulders. "Hey, there."

"Hey," Chan gives back, not looking up from his screen and staying seated at his desk.

"You're hungry? I can order something," he tells him, gently running his hand through his hair.

"Stop that," Chan grumbles and tilts his head away from him.

"Okay, sorry," Minho nods calmly and pulls his hands back. For a moment, the sound of Chan's fingers hitting the keyboard is all that can be heard. "So?" he asks, his patience starting to wear thin.

"I'll keep working," he shakes his head.

"Chan," Minho says firmly. "I'm leaving after that, and it would be nice to have lunch with my wife and my husband."

"Fucks sake, you're annoying," Chan sighs and waves him off. "I'll be there in a moment."

"Thank you," Minho rolls his eyes and makes his way downstairs. "Someone's in a mood," he grumbles as he leans against the kitchen island beside you.

“Don’t take it to heart, you know he gets sometimes,” you say soothingly, rubbing his shoulder. “What are we getting?”

“Whatever you want, honey,” he winks at you and lets you scroll through the options. “I don’t get him. It’s still a month until the album drops, and we have pretty much everything sorted out. Sure, I have to come up with two more dances, but that’s my issue, isn’t it?” he asks.

“You know Chan makes everything his responsibility,” you tell him and hand him back his phone. “He’ll calm down again; I’ll see what I can do.”

Minho sighs softly and orders the food, still seeming a little pissed off. Usually, Chan knows how much Minho needs a stable environment before a flight. He's scared of flying enough as it is, but especially when he's caught up in his thoughts. So it confuses you a little that he doesn’t seem to pay much attention to that today.

You call out for him twice as your food arrives until Chan finally joins you downstairs.

Chan's staring into the distance, pushing his food around on his plate and staying quiet as Minho and you keep on talking.

"Tastes good?" Minho asks after a while and gently nudges Chan beneath the table.

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs and ignores the frown Minho gives him.

"How's work going, Channie?" you try your luck.

"Great," he simply says, shoving some food into his mouth, clearly signaling he doesn't want to talk right now.

"Good," Minho nods and sighs softly. "I'm a little nervous."

"Why?" he gives back, almost a little routined.

"I hate flying, as you know," he groans frustratedly.

"You did fine before," Chan shrugs and takes a sip from his drink. "It's just a flight."

"Yeah, that's the point, isn't it?" Minho asks, starting to get a little irritated.

"Don't be a baby, you'll manage," he says, and Minho stares at him, unable to come up with a proper answer.

"Thanks, very helpful," he presses out, gripping his glass tighter as his hand starts to shake. He has no time for a mental breakdown right now.

“Channie,” you sigh softly, deciding to step in. The last thing you want is Minho to leave like that.

Looking up, Chan sees the confusion and anxiety clouding Minho's eyes. "Sorry, Min, you're not a baby," he says, not very convincingly, but it seems to be better than nothing to Minho.

Minho glances at his watch and clears his throat. "I'll go and grab my stuff," he announces.

Chan rolls his eyes once he's gone and braces his head on his hand, staring out of the window. He wonders how the hell he'll be able to finish everything he has to do in so little time.

“Channie, angel?” you ask gently, and he hums in response. “At least try and be nice? He’s gone for a week after.”

“You two are fucking exhausting,” he groans, and you raise your eyebrows, ready to answer as Minho comes back downstairs.

You get up to collect the trash and decide to continue this talk later.

"I'll see you in a week then," Minho says gently, and Chan hums, agreeing. "You'll be okay?"

"Sure," he nods and stares into the distance.

Minho takes his hand and tries to meet his eyes. "Love?" he asks, and Chan very slowly turns to him. "You know you can call if you get overwhelmed or need help with anything."

"Mhm," he hums and pulls his hand from his hold.

"Okay," he chews on his lower lip for a moment. "Well, I'll be leaving then."

"Okay," he nods.

"Can I at least get a kiss?" Minho asks quietly, and his heart sinks as Chan frowns.

"No," he simply says.

"No?" Minho echoes quietly, subconsciously taking a step back.

"Don't feel like it," he shrugs and glances at his watch.

"You don't feel like…wow, okay," he nods, trying to swallow down the sudden sickness spreading through him. "Did I do something wrong?" he asks timidly. Maybe this wasn't just Chan pulling back, but he had done something to upset him.

“No, you didn’t, Min,” you say firmly, staring at him irritated.

Chan turns to look at him properly for the first time today. Minho's heart sinks at the carelessness in them. "Right now, you're keeping me from working. I have stuff to do, mate."

"Mate?" Minho presses out, taking a few steps back. "Alright, I'll see you in a week, bestie. Seriously, fuck you," he snaps and grabs his keys.

"Minho, come on," Chan groans, rolling his eyes at him. "Stop overreacting."

Minho fidgets with his wedding ring before slamming it on the table. "Know what that is?"

"You're being serious right now?" Chan raises his eyebrows at him mockingly.

"That stupid little thing means we're husbands, idiot. I've been by your side for nine years now; I think you can start using appropriate terms, Chan hyung." Minho says firmly, and for a moment, he considers leaving the ring here. But then he remembers he has a public image to maintain, and showing up without one of his wedding rings would raise questions. Also, deep down, it feels wrong already to only wear yours.

"You're being ridiculous," Chan says and gets up, pushing past him.

"No, I'm hurt. There's a difference, Chan," he tells him, grabbing his suitcase. "But fine, I'll leave like that. I'll see you in a week then."

"Fucking great," Chan nods, walking upstairs and not looking back.

Minho watches him, stunned, before finally leaving the house and slamming the door closed.

You stand still for a moment, trying to process what has just happened. "You had one job, Chan! Be nice!" you shout upstairs.

"Fuck you too!" he shouts back and slams his door closed.

"You two are fucking ridiculous sometimes," you curse and search for your keys.

Minho gets into his car and stays there for a few minutes, trying to calm down. Secretly, he hoped Chan would join him and make things right before leaving. But he doesn't. The door to his car opens, and you lean down to look at him, raising your eyebrows in amusement. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” he groans and gets out quickly.

You giggle softly as he rushes over to you and pulls you into a tight hug. “Well, goodbye then, darling,” you tease him lovingly.

“I’m sorry, he pissed me off,” he groans, stifling his laughter in your shoulder.

“I know he did,” you laugh and soothingly pat his back. “Give him time to sulk; he’ll start missing you in two days top. He always does.”

“You’ll be okay?” Minho asks, pulling back and looking at you caringly.

“I’ll be fine. It’s Channie,” you giggle, and Minho snorts. “Deep down, he just needs a cuddle and acts tough so we won’t notice how stressed he is.”

“You handle this way better than I do, even though I’ve known him longer,” he laughs, rolling his eyes at himself.

“I just have a little more patience for his bullshit,” you giggle and check your phone. “You should leave before you miss your flight.”

“Ugh, fine,” he groans.

“You’ll do great, my darling,” you assure him. “Call me when you land?”

“You know I will,” he promises, lovingly kissing you goodbye. “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Minnie darling,” you smile.

Minho has been gone for four days when he gets a call. To his surprise, it's Chan's number popping up on his screen only minutes before a fashion event. Minho searches for a quiet corner and takes the call. "Hey, I don't have much time. What's up?" he asks calmly and frowns at the silence that follows. "Chan?"

"Something's wrong," he says quietly.

"What do you mean?" he asks confused.

"I don't…I don't feel good," he says monotonously. "Something's off."

Minho swallows softly. "Where are you?"

"Home," Chan tells him.

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks.

“Left,” he answers quietly.

“What do you mean she left?” he frowns, nervously scanning the crowd around himself.

“Told her to leave me alone. She took that to heart,” he explains. “She’s with her best friend.”

Minho exhales relieved, knowing you are safe with your friend. "Channie, what's wrong?" he asks patiently. "You can't just push us away. We love you, and saying yes five years ago means you're stuck with us," he chuckles, waving off his assistant tapping her watch.

"I know," Chan says and chews on his lower lip, unable to put it into words. "Remember when I had that episode of feeling worthless and overwhelmed back when we were trainees?"

"Mhm, of course I do," he nods, swallowing hard as he thinks of Chan's emotional state back then. Nothing had worried him that much in a long time. "Is that what's going on?"

"No…I feel..kinda numb," Chan admits and curses himself. "I feel so much and nothing at all. I feel like crying, but I can't, I can't focus on anything, I feel like everything I do is pointless and…Minnie, can you come back home?" he asks, his voice whispering. "It's starting to scare me whenever I have a clear moment." Minho rubs his face tiredly, and Chan takes his silence the wrong way. "I know you have shit to do…I just thought..I need you, please?"

"Give me an hour to sort this out," Minho says, and Chan exhales in relief. "I want you to grab a blanket, make yourself some tea, and put on your favorite series. Get comfortable on the sofa downstairs. You think you can do that for me?"

"Okay," Chan nods.

"I'll let you know when I'm on the plane," he says, sighing softly. "Channie love?"

"Yeah?" he asks quietly.

"Don't do anything stupid," he says, his grip around his phone tightening.

"I owe you a kiss," he answers, and Minho smiles sadly.

"Damn right you do," he nods and is about to end the call.

"Minho, baby?" Chan asks, almost a little timid.

"Yes, dear?" he asks patiently.

"Have a safe flight. You can do this, and I'll be there once you're back," he says, and Minho blinks back tears, gripping his phone tightly.

"Thank you," he whispers. So he hasn't forgotten.

You frown softly as Minho’s name pops up on your screen. Shouldn’t he be at some fancy fashion event right now? “Min?” you take the call confused.

“Hey, honey,” he says sweetly. “You have a minute?”

“Yeah, of course,” you nod agreeing, and smile at your friend thankfully, who hands you a cup of tea.

“Chan called,” he says and sighs at the silence following. “What happened?”

“Well, what did he tell you?” you ask stubbornly.

“Stop playing games, baby girl,” he warns you. “I should’ve been on some red carpet five minutes ago. So, what happened?”

You roll your eyes and subconsciously play with the two small rings decorating your ring finger: one for Chan and one for Minho. “I made the mistake of thinking I’d get a hug and kiss goodnight from my husband,” you tell him quietly, and he can tell you’re hurt. “He told me to leave him alone, so I did.”

“Fucking hell, Chan,” he breaths out and throws his head back in frustration. “I promised him to come home early, but I need some time to figure this out.”

“Oh, please, Min, it’s only three days,” you protest. That’s not what you had intended at all. “We can manage that, and we’ll talk once you’re back.”

“Well, he can’t,” he shakes his head.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“He called me to ask if I can come back because he’s not doing alright. He said something about feeling numb and like failing,” Minho explains, following his assistant, who had given up by now, to his car.

“Shit, Min, I didn’t know. I thought he was stressed and taking it out on us,” you say apologizingly.

“Relax, I didn’t know either,” he sighs, getting into his car. “Listen, I’ll be back home in a few hours. You think you can go back home in the meantime?” he asks gently. “I know you’re hurt and-.”

“No, it’s alright. Of course, I’ll go back home,” you say, already getting up and gathering your things. “You have a key to get in?”

“I think so, yes,” he nods.

“Alright, I’ll see you later then. I’ll go check on Channie,” you promise, and Minho exhales, relieved. You quickly explain everything to your friend before driving home a little faster than you should. Closing the door, you kick off your shoes and rush into the living room.

Chan looks up at you, confused, eyes widening at the sight of you. “Y/N?” he asks stunned.

“I’m so sorry, Channie angel,” you apologize and sit down next to him on the sofa. “I didn’t realize you were struggling that much. I thought you were stressed or something.”

“Min told you?” he asks, chuckling as you nod. “Typical, can’t keep a secret.”

“He’s worried,” you scold him gently and take Chan’s hand. “I’m worried.”

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you,” he admits. “I don’t like worrying you. I just gave up hiding from Min because he witnesses most of it during work anyway.”

“Fair point,” you hum softly and hesitantly rest your head on his shoulder. This time, he lets you. “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. “I’m not myself at the moment. Min has helped me out before when we were still trainees, I trust him with this.”

“Okay then,” you nod, smiling as he wraps his arm around you. “I’m here if you need me.”

“Thank you,” he says gently.

When Minho gets home a few hours later, he feels drained, pushing his suitcase into a corner and kicking off his shoes. He's still wearing the makeup and outfit for tonight's event, having wasted no time with changing. He tiredly runs his hand through his hair and stares at it for a moment, still shaking as the adrenaline and fear of the flight slowly wear off. His eyes fall upon the wedding rings on his finger. His heart steadies, remembering why he's there as he looks at Chan’s.

A pair of hands slip into his, taking his smaller ones and gently squeezing them. Minho looks up and meets the eyes he fell in love with all those years ago. Chan moves their hands up to his face, planting a tiny kiss on each of his knuckles. "Breathe," he tells him quietly, and Minho exhales a breath he didn't know he was holding in.

Minho can't stop himself and pulls him into a tight hug. He buries his face in his shoulder, stomach sinking as Chan stiffens for a moment in his hold. He pulls back, unable to meet his eyes. "Sorry, I should know better, you're not feeling up for this right -."

Chan cuts him off by pulling him in and shaking his head. "Sorry, I'm a little slow at the moment."

"That's okay," Minho assures him and gently rubs his back.

"I can't do anything right at the moment," Chan says quietly, gripping the back of Minho's suit jacket tightly.

Minho soothingly runs his hand through his hair. "Sometimes it's enough if the only thing you did today was breathe."

"If you think so," Chan mumbles into the fabric as he buries his nose in his shoulder.

"I know so," he tells him, resting his head against Chan's.

“You told Y/N,” he speaks up after a moment.

“Of course I did. She’s our wife, Channie love,” he giggles softly. “She should know, it’d worry her more not knowing what’s going on.”

He hums gently and tightens his hold on him. "I don't know what to do," Chan admits quietly. "I never felt so empty and isolated."

"I know that's probably hard to believe right now, but I promise you'll always find me in these three places: In front of you to cheer you on, behind you to have your back, and beside you, so you're never alone," he starts out gently. "I'll find a way to make you feel full again…fuck, that came out wrong," Minho groans, and for the first time in almost two weeks, Chan laughs.

"Idiot," he giggles and pulls back, meeting his eyes. He reaches out for him, hesitantly brushing back a strand of hair, fingertips tracing the features of his face. Once he reaches his lips, Minho plants a gentle kiss against his fingertips. Chan looks up, and he can't quite pinpoint the look in his husband's eyes. "I messed up that event for you, didn't I?"

"It doesn't matter," he assures him. "You're more important."

"You're mad?" he asks, squinting his eyes at him a little.

"Do I look mad?" he asks gently.

Chan frowns a little. "No…you look pretty."

A soft smile covers his lips and travels to his eyes. "That's very sweet."

"It's weird because I can tell what you're feeling, but…I have no clue how to grasp what I'm feeling," Chan admits, tears brimming his eyes. "I'm messed up, aren't I?"

"You're struggling," he reminds him kindly. "We can work this out. We did that before."

"Promise?" Chan asks, searching his eyes observantly.

"I promise," he says, holding Chan's hand wearing the wedding rings. "I told you I'd be there, no matter what," he tells him, and Chan nods firmly, holding on to the truth of those words. "I need to get rid of the makeup and…whatever the hell that is," he says, looking down at himself. They've put him in some suit and casual clothes arrangement with way too many straps in a different fabric to his taste.

"I'll help," Chan says, and Minho nods thankfully.

“Channie?” you ask quietly. Minho turns in Chan’s hold and smiles softly, seeing you. You’re wearing one of his sweaters, and your hair messily falls around your face. You tiredly rub your face and squint at them before the realization hits you. “Oh, Minnie, you’re back,” you beam.

“Hey, honey,” he says softly, grabbing your hand and pulling you into their hug. He plants a tiny kiss on top of your head and giggles as you pout at Chan.

“Got cold without you,” you tell him.

“Sorry, baby,” he chuckles and rubs your back. "I had to check on Minho."

"You're doing okay?" you ask him gently.

"I'm glad to be on solid ground again," he snorts and lovingly brushes back your hair. "Let's go upstairs. Channie's helping me, and then we can all go to bed."

"Sounds great," you nod and tiredly rub your eyes. "Channie?" you ask sweetly, making grabby hands at him. Chan snorts and rolls his eyes before lifting you up to carry you upstairs. You smirk at Minho as he follows the two of you. "Doesn't he look handsome?"

"Already told him so," Chan comments.

"You look like a prince, darling. So cute with that glitter around your eyes," you compliment him, and Minho blushes.

"You're too kind, as always, my beautiful wife," he smiles shyly, and your heart swoons at his last words.

"Careful," Chan says as he lowers you on the bed. He makes sure you're comfortable and tugs you in already, leaning down and planting a light, almost hesitant kiss on your forehead. "Thank you for coming home," he tells you quietly enough for only you to hear as Minho throws his bag in a corner of the room. "I feel more safe when you're here."

"Always," you promise. Chan makes his way over to Minho, helping him with his outfit's many buttons and straps. He also removes his shirt and grabs a new one from the closet. "If I weren't so tired, I'd enjoy the show a little more enthusiastically."

Minho's ears burn up red, and he quickly slips into the shirt. "If you weren't so tired, I'd make sure you put that pretty mouth to use for something other than talking shit."

Your jaw drops, and Minho smirks succeeding. "Fucks sake, you guys, I thought we'd be getting some sleep," Chan protests, making you both laugh. "Okay, sit down," he tells Minho and gets comfortable on the edge of the desk. He plants his feet on Minho's chair, left and right of his thighs. Chan places one hand beneath Minho's chin as he starts wiping away all the makeup, cursing softly to himself about all the glitter around his eyes. "As if you'd need any of this shit," he groans, and Minho giggles softly.

"You know how it is," he shrugs and closes his eyes for him as Chan gently removes the last remains of his eyeshadow. His eyes flutter back open as Chan takes off the small diamond earring for him. "Thank you, love," he says softly, reaching for him.

Chan slides off the desk and right into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck. You smile gently, watching them, knowing their goodbye hasn't been that great. He sighs softly and brushes his nose against Minho's. "It's good you're back."

"Yeah?" Minho asks with a shy smile.

"Mhm," he hums, sinking deeper into his eyes. "Feels safe."

"I love you," Minho says, rubbing his lower back soothingly.

"I know," he nods and presses their foreheads together. "And I know I feel the same way about you…even now."

"That's good," he says, squeezing his hips. "Don't force it, we have time."

"Being with you feels..good," Chan tells him and subconsciously presses himself closer. It reminds you a little of what he said to you before you fell asleep on the sofa. At least he seems to be able to feel comfort as well.

Minho very gently reaches up, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks. "How does that feel?"

"Warm," Chan says, covering his hands with his own.

"You like that?" he asks, trying to figure out how to start tackling the issue at hand slowly.

"Yeah," he nods, a small smile covering his face.

Minho thinks for a moment before he knows what to try next. After all, his husband was a sucker for compliments he couldn't take for shit. If that wouldn't make him feel something, he doesn't know what would. "You're so beautiful, you know, Channie love. Such a handsome husband with those sweet eyes and bright smile," he says, noticing a slight blush creeping up his face. "Don't get me started on those soft curls. Or the way my hands fit perfectly into yours." Chan shifts on his lap, eyes widening a little as he takes it all in. "Have I ever told you how much I love you being so cuddly?"

"Minho," he protests gently.

"Yes, beautiful?" he asks curiously.

"He's right, Channie angel…but he forgot about your cute laugh and caring sweetness," you chime in. “Or the way your strong arms wrap around me, the way you let me rest on your chest when I’m tired, and how cute you get when you soothe me to sleep.”

"Stop," Chan groans softly. "Now I feel all warm and fuzzy inside," he says, hiding his face in his shoulder as Minho chuckles. "Don't laugh."

Minho smiles and plants a tender kiss on top of his hair. "See? You're still able to feel good things as well."

"I'm not fucked, in that case?" he asks so innocently it makes you and Minho crack up.

"It's a good start, don't you think?" he asks, giggling.

"I guess so," he chuckles and sighs softly as Minho runs his hand through his hair. "Keep doing that?"

"Let's get to bed, I won't let go of you tonight," he promises.

"What about me, Minnie?" you pout softly.

"I'm in the middle in this case," he snorts, and Chan and you seem happy with that. He smiles as the both of you cuddle up to his sides, heads resting on his chest. Minho soothingly plays with Chan's hair, smiling as you take Chan's hand and intertwine them on his stomach.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@kai-lee08 @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies @soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @galaxycatdrawz @aaasia111 @channieaddict @kthstrawberryshortcake

408 notes · View notes

drudyslut · 5 months

Note

i wanna requesttt!!

so maybe reader and jj r studying and he cant focus so reader thinks of a way to get him to focus and decides to cockwarm him🫣 everytime jj gets a question right reader rolls her hips until jj gets fustrated and flips reader over to finish wha she started🫠 (just an idea you dont have to follow through<33)

warnings: cock warming, unprotected sex, reader is a tease.

this was so hot, thank you thank you for the request omfg 😩

“this is fucking stupid” jj groans, tossing his head down onto the desk.

you sigh, standing from your bed and walking to place a hand on jj’s upper back, “j, we have to study, this test is worth ten percent of your grade..”

jj turns in his desk chair, his hands finding your waist instantly. you feel chills run through your body when he tightly squeezes at your hips.

“i know baby, but i can’t focus. my mind is on.. other things” jj runs his hands down your hips, placing them on your ass and jiggling the fatty flesh.

you bring your bottom lip between your teeth, an amused smirk played across your lips.

you sit yourself on his lap, your fingers running through his hair, tugging softly at the blond locks as you lean your lips down to his ear, teeth nipping softly at the skin.

“i think i might know how to help you focus baby”

jj’s cock grows hard, his thick length pressing into your ass.

“oh yeah? and how might that be?”

you quickly stand, sliding your shorts and panties down your legs and kicking them across your bedroom floor. jj’s eyes go wide, his hands flying to your bare pussy, fingers lightly grazing your clit before you push them away.

“ah ah, no. you can’t touch. i’ll sit on your cock while we study, but you have to focus, anytime you get a question right, i’ll roll my hips a little, get a question wrong, well, i don’t move. once we finish studying, you can fuck me”

jj grins, quickly standing from his chair and pulling his sweatpants down his legs. jj grabs his books and rushes to the bed, pulling his underwear off before sitting and patting at his lap.

“come sit baby, we have a test to study for”

you quickly oblige, rushing to him and sitting yourself on his lap. you grind your bare cunt against jj’s throbbing length, getting it nice and wet with your arousal before you grasp it and begin teasing the head at your entrance.

you sink yourself down onto him, a low groan falling from his lips when you do. he unconsciously bucks his hips up, his swollen head lightly hitting at your g-spot and pulling a whine from you.

“j- fuck- jj no, focus”

you hear jj groan, but ultimately he agrees. he grabs his textbook off of your bed, placing it in your hands so you could begin asking him test questions.

“the basic elements of the supply chain include what?”

jj snaps his fingers, a wide grin growing on his face. “easy, supply, manufacture and distribution”

you smirk. “correct”

you slowly roll your hips over his length, feeling him twitch inside you before you stop.

“don’t get too excited we have a lot more to go baby”

jj groans as you clear your throat, “next question: what is a company’s strategic plan?”

“uhhh, outlining new products for the next year?”

you tsk, “nope, sorry baby, it’s a statement of goals and objectives for a long-range period”

“fuck, i knew that” jj sighs, his lip jutted out in a pout at the lack of movement from you.

“it’s okay, next question…”

you and jj continue this cycle for almost an hour, jj finally beginning to get all the questions correct, his need for reward strong.

you’re mid sentence on a question when you hear jj groan, “fuck this, i need you now”

“jj-“ you begin, but your words are replaced by a squeal when jj grabs the book from your hands and tosses it to the floor. he quickly flips you onto your back, running his hands up your shirt and cupping your breasts tightly between them.

“i was good, i answered as many questions as i could, but i need to fucking feel more of you, this ‘cock warming’ shit isn’t cutting it” jj grunts out, his hips pounding harshly into yours as his fingers pinch and pull at your hardened nipples.

you whine loudly, arching your back off the mattress, your hips bucking up and matching his thrusts. “fuck fuck, jj, so fucking good”

“yeah? you like how my cock feels buried inside you? do you think i should let you cum after you teased me for almost an entire fucking hour? hmm? do you think you deserve that baby? sitting this warm, soaked pussy on my cock but not giving me what i need?”

you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out except for moans and whimpers, jj’s cock repeatedly hitting at your g-spot, pushing you closer to the edge.

jj digs his fingers into your sides, the cold metal of his rings surely bruising the skin. you hear him grunt out a few curse words as his thrusts grow sloppier.

“tell me, do you deserve to fucking cum? i don’t think you do”

you begin whimpering, your release so close you could feel it. “p-please let me cum, j! i-i promise to be good, won’t tease you like that ever- shit- won’t tease you ever again”

jj begins licking and sucking on your neck, his hips stuttering as his cock twitches inside you, the hot ropes of his cum filling you up.

“fuck! cum for me baby” jj grunts out, his hips stuttering to a still as he comes down from his high.

his words were all it took, your toes curling and a pornographic moan escaping you as your release bursts from you.

jj falls limp on top of you, his chest heaving up and down as he tries to calm his breathing.

“fuck, that was..”

you cut him off, finishing his sentence, “.. fucking amazing. i need to get you frustrated more often”

jj rolls off of you, pulling his sweatpants back up his legs and grabbing his book off the floor, “yeah, maybe you do. now let’s get back to this, worth ten percent of my grade right?”

JJ TAGLIST: @aemonddtargaryen @ivy-34 @thelomlisrafecameron @writingjjfics @always-reading @jesssssmaybank @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @wetbitchlibrary @lizcameron @xprloki @starkeypankowsbae @moremaybank @alexisbaumann2004 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @abbybarnesstuff @r1vrsefx @mel119g @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @fayerite @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @sierraluvz @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron

jj masterlist | requests ml | taglist form

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank x you #jj maybank smut #obx jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #obx jj #jj blurb #jj maybank brainrot #jj maybank blurb #jj fic #jj smut #requests

931 notes · View notes

atomicami · 6 months

Text

the perfect fit

model!abby anderson x fashion designer!reader

- summary: it’s the start of your new job working for armani as a fashion designer, and your first assignment is to design and create a suit for an upcoming runway event. despite the fact that you can’t stand your chosen model, you also can’t help but find her very attractive too.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, nyc living, reader has a degree in fashion design, reader is a bit of a perfectionist, model!abby, abby’s a little cocky, work sex, fingering & strap usage (r!receiving), abby refers to her strap as her cock, size kink, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: so i was highly inspired by this abby x model!reader fic that i decided to try to write out a fic of my own with this new pairing!! i hope y’all like it :)

also dedicating this one to my girl @whore4abby ily darling 🤍

New York City was always known to be the place where one’s dreams were meant to fly as high as the skyscrapers that rose in its urban atmosphere. It was known to be the perfect capital city for all professions, including fashion.

Living in New York had always been the dream for you, and although you were now residing there for school, you weren’t exactly fulfilling your dreams just yet. So when you had called your parents one day to break the bad news to them, you knew that they weren’t going to be on board with your sudden change of plans.

“You’re switching majors? But why?” your dad asked through the phone. “I thought you wanted to study law.”

No, you didn’t. Your parents had been telling everyone they knew in your small town that you were going to major in law after high school and become the best lawyer to walk the streets of New York, and as a result, you couldn’t help but select that major just to please them.

“I don’t, Dad…If you had listened to me in the first place, you would know that I never wanted to do that,” you tell him.

“Well, that’s alright, law school isn’t for everyone now.” your dad told you before continuing. “What are you going to study instead? Medicine? Psychology? Business?”

You took a deep breath before continuing. “Fashion design…” you mutter back to him.

You can already imagine the outburst he was going to have. It was almost as if you could feel the anger bubbling within him through the phone.

“Fashion?! Are you seriously out of your mind?!” your dad exclaimed back at you. His reaction was so uncalled for that you had to take him off of speakerphone.

And after a long lecture from him later, he simply told you that he wasn’t going to pay for your tuition anymore before hanging up the phone.

Even though you were expecting that kind of reaction from your parents, your father more specifically, you still couldn’t help but feel so…discouraged. You’ve been wanting to be a fashion designer ever since you were little, and your parents’ lack of support did nothing but steal your happiness in fulfilling your dreams.

But at the same time…you felt determined to prove them wrong. You wanted to show them that you weren’t making this change just take the easy way out, you were doing it because you’ve been wanting to pursue this career your whole life. You wanted to show them that you were meant to be working in a fashion studio, not a courtroom.

Fast forward to now, and you’ve graduated from Parsons at the top of your class with a fashion degree, only to soon land a job working as a fashion designer at one of Giorgio Armani’s establishments right here in New York City.

Once the first day of your new job came around, you needed to give the best impression there, making sure to arrive before your boss did. After all, if it weren’t for Tess selecting you as one of the potential candidates as a fashion designer for that establishment, you’d probably still be job hunting by now.

You sat at your desk, eyeing the surroundings of the large studio you were in at this moment. All of the fabrics, mannequins, tools, and machines just waiting to be used. It still felt like a fever dream to you.

The sound of the opening doors of the warehouse startles you, causing you to and some of the designers in the studio to turn around, while the others are still chattering.

Tess walks into the studio and stands in the middle of the room before bringing everyone’s attention. “Alright everyone,” she shouts with a loud clap of her hands, causing the rest of the room to quiet down. “I have decided to put you all in charge of creating the looks for Armani’s upcoming winter fashion show. Each of you will be given a model to work on, and you are welcome to create whatever you’d like, as long as it meets the requirements for the show.”

“But, isn’t the winter fashion show only a month from now?” one of the designers asked.

“Yes, Yes it is, actually,” Tess replies with a nod. “So I expect to see the best work done by you all within the time being. I’d like to see how well my designers can work under pressure.”

You let out a sigh in frustration and held your face in your hands. How the hell were you going to have a look ready in just a month?

Tess checks the time on her watch before looking up at the clock for reassurance. “The models should be arriving any minute now, once they get here I’ll be assigning them out to everyone, and we’ll start today off by taking their measurements and sketching out designs. When you are finished, I—“ Her words are cut off by the sound of the warehouse doors opening again.

You look over again with the rest of the designers to see another staff member enter the room with a variety of models trailing behind her in a single file line. She then approaches Tess to talk to her for a brief moment before soon exiting the warehouse by herself. “Alright everyone,” Tess shouts out again, looking down at the clipboard that was in her hands. “When I call out your name to your assigned model, I would like you to stand up from your desk so they know who you are.”

As Tess begins to assign the models, the sound of a chair swiveling over to your left makes you turn your head, and you see that it was Dina scooching closer to you. “See anyone you might like?” she whispers over to you, her eyes still fixed on the line of models in the room.

“I honestly could care less about who Tess puts me with,” you whisper back to her, leaning back against your chair and crossing one of your legs over the other. “As long as they don’t give me a hard time, I should be good.”

Dina nods in response, she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the sound of Tess calling out your name. As a result, you rise from your seat and stand behind your desk.

“You’ll be working with Anderson as your model,” she tells you, and you watch as Tess looks over to your model and points at you, indicating her to walk over to where you were.

Intimidation strikes through you as she approaches your desk. You can’t really put your finger on it, but from the first impression, you’re quite convinced it's because of her broad figure that stood out from everyone else. You look over to Dina, to which she looks back at you and simply mouths a ‘good luck’ on your end.

Tess soon does a quick check around the room, making sure each designer has a model to work with. “Alright, now that everyone has an assigned model, you can all get started. Remember now, the winter show is a month from today, so I hope you can all make the best use of your time.” and with that, she exits the studio, leaving you and the rest of the designers to be.

Abby has her side resting against your desk, watching you draw out some looks on your sketchbook. “Just so you know…” she starts, leaning in closer to your right side. “I’m like, the biggest model here, so don’t be surprised when you run out of fabric for that pretty outfit you’ve planned out for me.”

You look over to Abby and roll your eyes before setting your pencil down and opening the side drawer of your desk. “Yeah, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” you tell her as you take out the soft tape measure from your drawer and stand up from your seat. “Come on, let me take your measurements now.”

Based on that first interaction alone, you knew that Abby was going to be a distraction for your project, and boy you were right.

This past month has felt like hell for you, and Abby’s cocky, conceited persona wasn’t making it any better for you.

Things were fine at first, at least enough for you to manage. But it wasn’t until the second fitting that she’s been starting to really get on your nerves.

The fitting room in the Armani establishment was spacious, each designer/model pair had their spot to do the fittings and make any adjustments if needed.

Abby walks over to your side of the fitting room fully dressed in her runway outfit. You had beautifully created a navy blue suit that complimented her freckled skin and blue eyes perfectly, and the entire outfit had Swarovski crystals sewn all over the place. It was a timeless and classic look for the show.

It’s a shame that your model has to be so arrogant for the time being.

You look over to her and snap your fingers. “Stand over there,” you tell her, pointing over to the small, round altar that was next to you. Abby simply obliges and stands up on the altar to face you, both of her hands crossed at her front.

You notice this and walk over to her, grabbing at her hands. “I need your hands at your sides, you’re a model, not a security guard.” you tell her sternly, separating her hands so each one is at her side. You then sit down on the stool behind you, bringing yourself down to face her lower half so you can check the fitting of her suit pants.

Starting at the bottom of her pants and making your way up, the pants seem to fit well on her so far. Given Abby’s large build, the fit is as snug as can be, but not too tight to where it would make her uncomfortable when walking. If you had made it any tighter, you’re convinced that the fabric might rip.

However, it wasn’t until you look at the waistline of the pants. For some reason, that area looked unusually tighter than it was compared to the last fitting. The zipper on her pants looked like it was going to burst. It’s almost as if she was hiding something underneath…

You tap the side of her thigh to get her attention, causing her to tilt her head down. ”What’s this?” you ask, pointing at the slight bulge that was sticking out of her pants.

She simply smirks back at you and shakes her head. “Wouldn’t you like to know…” she mumbles out, looking back up.

Your eyes were still fixed on her face, and you grabbed at her crotch, causing her to slightly jerk back. You knew damn well what it was that she had in those pants.

“Jesus,” she says, looking back down at you. “Chill out, will you?”

“Take it off,” you tell her sternly, standing back up from the stool. “I’m not going to have my look completely ruined as a result from one of your little games.”

You were close to having an outburst in the middle of the fitting room since you were starting to get some looks from some of the other designers and models in the room, including Dina. It was a good thing that Tess wasn’t there to see it though.

Abby simply rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat before stepping off of the altar and exiting the fitting room to go change. The two of you were being quite immature about this, but you were seriously in need of your look to be perfect for the show, and Abby was keeping you from doing so.

A couple more weeks pass by and before you know it, the day of the show is just right around the corner from now.

Your shift at the studio had just ended, and people were starting to gather their things to leave, while you still sat by your large mannequin, making adjustments and adding touches to your look.

Dina walks up behind you and taps your shoulder, causing you to pull out one of your headphones from your ear and turn around.

“Hey,” she says. “Some of us are going to head out to Dalton’s for drinks. Wanna come with?”

You shake your head in response. “I can’t, I really have to finish this look in time for the show, I have to make sure everything’s perfect.”

You hear her let out a sigh and nod. “Alright well, just don’t stress yourself out, okay?” she asks, gently squeezing your shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” she says, and you nod back at her as you watch her put her bag over her shoulder and exit the studio.

Once she leaves, you notice Tess at walking towards you at the corner of your eye. “Hey kid,” she says leaning against your desk with her arms crossed, keys jingling in one of her hands. “You plan on leaving soon?”

You let out a sigh and turned your head to face her. “Just let me stay a little longer, Tess…I promise I’ll be out of here soon.”

She sighs back and hesitates for a moment while rubbing the back of her neck. “Alright, I’ll give you an hour, but that’s it. I don’t want you spending the night here.” She then gets off your desk. “I’ll see you tomorrow, the doors will lock automatically once you leave.”

You nod in response and thank her before watching her walk away from the dim lighting that shined on your side of the studio. You were instantly relieved to be able to have some time for yourself to work on the suit.

However, that doesn’t last long when another set of footsteps enter the studio and begin to approach you from behind once again.

A large hand grabs at your shoulder, this time causing you to jump up and turn around in fear for a moment before realizing who it is. “Jesus, Anderson…you scared the hell out of me,” you say, trying to catch your breath. “What are you even doing here? Your final fitting isn’t until Friday.”

Abby lets out a chuckle at your frightened reaction and shakes her head. “I just came here to get my car keys,” she says, grabbing them off the shelf where she had left them. “I left them last time I was here.”

You rolled your eyes and stood back up to face your desk and away from her. “Well, now that you have your keys, can you go now? I need to keep working.”

As you were about to put your headphones back on, Abby began to speak once again. “What’s your deal?” she asks you.

You let out a huff and set your phone down before looking back at her. “My deal is that I’ve had to deal with your arrogance this past month and it’s been driving me insane. All I want right now is to have this time to myself so I can finish this suit in time for the show.”

The smirk that was growing on Abby’s face right now was so big you could practically see it from your peripheral vision. She then begins to walk around until she’s behind you on your desk. “It seems like you could loosen up a bit, you know…” she tells you as she slightly leans in closer to your ear, trapping you between your desk and her chest. You could already feel a familiar bulge poking at your lower back. It was that same bulge that you were just grabbing at in the fitting room not too long ago.

You roll your eyes at her in response. “Is that so?” you whisper back to her, just enough so she can hear you. “And what might that be, exactly?”

Her hands make their way down to your waist, grabbing you and turning you around so you are now face-to-face with her. “How about I show you, yeah?” she whispers to you, to which you nod desperately.

Despite how much you couldn’t stand her, you really couldn’t help but be into her at the same time, and not only has she also been aware of it, but she felt the same way with you too.

You feel her hands move from your waist down to the buttons of your pants, and you look down at your lap as a result. “Let’s see what we have here now…” she murmurs, slowly undoing your pants and sliding them off your legs and to the ground. Once your pants were fully removed, she helped give you a boost so you could sit up on your desk.

Abby instantly opens your legs the second your ass hits your desk, immediately eyeing the visible wet patch that was seeping through your black underwear. “Well well well, what do we have here…” she mutters out, hooking a finger underneath your underwear and shifting it to the side, causing your wet pussy to be exposed to her and the cold air of the studio. “This all for me?” she asks, looking back up at you.

All you can simply do is bite your lip and nod as you try to resist the cold air hitting against your pussy. “Fuck, yes, Abs…it’s all for you…” you whine out to her.

“That’s what I thought,” she mutters back. Two of her fingers make their way into your cunt without warning, causing you to jerk back and involuntarily close your thighs shut. However, her other hand makes her way into the middle just in time before you do so. “Nuh-uh, don’t get shy on me now, princess,” she says, forcing your legs back open to stand in the middle. “You’ve been so bold with me this past month, so you’re not backing out of this now.”

Her fingers successfully go into your pussy the second time around, causing a moan to escape from your mouth as a result. Abby’s fingers were huge, to say the least, but they managed to stretch your pussy out so well. There’s no way that your pussy can’t take anything bigger than this.

But what Abby was about to pull out next was going to prove you wrong.

As Abby’s fingers continue to pump inside you, she begins to undo her jeans with her free hand, effortlessly getting them open and slightly pushing them down to her thighs. She then digs that same hand into her boxers and pulls out her black strap-on, causing your eyes to widen at the immense size. She was fucking huge.

“A-Abby…” you stammer out to her, quickly shaking your head. “That—That’s not gonna fit…It’s too—“

“Yes it will,” she says, cutting off your words. “My cock’s gonna fit. You’ll see.”

Her fingers quickly slide out of your cunt, leading you to whimper at the loss. With both of her hands now, she rubs her cock against your folds, collecting some of your wetness before sliding it into your tight hole. The stretch of the strap was a bit uncomfortable at first, but after a moment, you were shocked to see how well your pussy was easily taking it from the tip down to the base. It really was the perfect fit.

Abby smirks as she looks down at the piece of silicone that connected your bodies. “See? I told you it’ll fit,” she mutters out, bottoming out completely inside you. “This fucking pussy was made to take my cock.”

You were already starting to feel dizzy over Abby’s cock nestling inside your pussy. You were desperate for some movement.

“A-Abby…” you whine out to her, squeezing her bicep. “N-Need you t-to move…”

“What’s that, princess? You want me to move my cock?” she asks, to which you nod in response. “Need me to thrust my big cock in that desperate little pussy of yours? Don’t worry, baby, I’ll do just that for you.”

And with that, she begins to slowly thrust inside you. You could practically feel it all within her movements, the girth, the veins, hell, even the tip would kiss at your cervix every time she bottomed out into you.

Abby grabs at both of your thighs, slowly starting to speed up her pace. “I think I can go a little faster now, don’t you think? Your pretty pussy’s already doing so well for me, angel…”

“Fuck, y-yes, Abby…f-faster…” you slur out as you throw your head back in pleasure, gripping both of your hands onto your desk while she continues to thrust inside of you.

One of her hands leaves your thigh and grabs at your jaw, tilting it down to face her. “Look at that now, my girl’s getting so cockdrunk for me…I bet it feels good, doesn’t it?”

Abby’s gaze soon brings down to your chest, smirking once she notices your hard nipples poking through your shirt. She then lets go of your jaw and pulls your shirt up to your tits, watching in awe at the mere sight of them. “No bra?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you to be such a slut like that…It’s almost as if you were waiting for this to happen.”

At this point, your brain was losing focus, and you couldn’t figure out what Abby was saying to you right now. Once she sped up her pace again, all you could think about now was getting to your release.

Abby now has her gaze focused on the sight of your pussy, watching as it squeezes and contracts around the strap with every thrust. “Looks like you’re getting close, princess. Are you gonna come for me? Gonna be a good girl and cum on my cock?”

“Y-yes, f-fuck! I-I’m getting close…” you whine back to her, leading her to thrust even faster inside of you, your moans soon getting loud enough for them to practically echo inside the whole studio.

It didn’t take long for you to reach your peak. Your cunt pulsed a few more times around Abby’s strap before cumming completely with a loud moan of her name, causing a white ring to form around it.

As you began to catch your breath, Abby slowly pulled herself out of you, groaning as she saw a thick white string of your cum connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap before soon breaking. She then ran her fingers through her length, collecting all of your release before soon sticking them inside of your mouth while it was still agape.

After sucking her fingers clean, she pulls them out of your mouth and tucks her strap back into her boxers before putting her jeans back on. You watch as she briefly gets down onto her knees and brings her face into your fucked out pussy, gently licking and sucking it clean, savoring each bit of it as she did so.

Once you were all clean, Abby rose back to her feet, helping you with your underwear and with the rest of your clothes as well. Her hands then moved from the button of your pants back down to your hips, guiding you off of your desk and back on your feet. You stumble a little bit into her at the sudden movement.

“Hey, you okay?” she asks softly, catching you in her arms.

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m okay…just a little worn out.” you pant out to her as you gain back your composure to turn around towards your desk and gather up your things to leave.

“Well, at least let me give you a ride back to your place,” she insists, grabbing her keys off your desk. “It’s already late outside, and I don’t think it’s quite safe for you to be walking around out there at this time.”

You hesitate for a moment at first. You’d honestly hate to inconvenience Abby to give you a ride home, but given that she was the one offering, you didn’t seem to mind too much about it. In all fairness, it was already late hours in the city, and given the damage she’d done to your legs, there was no way you were going to last walking for five minutes down the street. So you end up accepting her offer.

“Yeah, sure…I’m not stopping you, honestly…” you tell her with a chuckle as you put your bag over your shoulder, ready to head out.

You then follow along beside Abby as the two of you exit the establishment and make your way to wherever her car is situated. Abby opens the passenger door to let you in first before letting herself in on the other side. She then starts up her car before merging into the city’s busy roads.

The ten-minute drive flew by surprisingly fast, and before you knew it, she was now parked in front of your apartment complex. She leans in to give you a quick kiss before soon pulling away. “So, I’ll see you on Friday, then?” she asks.

You can’t help but smirk back at her, even though you were biting your lip to hide it. “I’ll see you on Friday, Anderson.” you tell her with a nod before opening the door to let yourself out.

But Abby doesn’t leave just yet. Instead, she makes sure that you get into your apartment safe and sound. Once your lights were on, that was her cue to go.

You watch from your apartment window as she drives back into the busy roads, soon disappearing from your view.

And for the first time this month, you have to admit that you’re now actually looking forward to seeing her again.

a/n: i hope you guys liked this fic!! i might make another part if this goes well?? but aside from that my next fic will be bfm!abby for those who are waiting, i promise 🤞🏼 lmk if you’d like to be tagged for when i post it!!

(also ty for 700, i love you guys 🫶🏻)

833 notes · View notes

xioterep-art · 3 months

Text

New POV! I got the idea all thanks to this playlist!

POV: you shock Scaramouche with your sudden dominance.. || 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♡

Bossy Scaramouche x obedient Subordinate Reader (what he thought)

Trigger warning: suggestive themes, violence, curses, slight nsfw (suggestive), bullying, dom reader.

Disclaimer: the art is not mine, it belongs to たなみ on pixiv!

You were the most obedient subordinate he could ever have, which was annoying him for some unknown reason. He finally got a brainless idiot human at his disposition, yet why was he so unsatisfied? Scaramouche couldn't understand the reason behind this. All he had to do was look at your dumb facial expression, and he would sigh deeply with his usual gloomy frown.

As usual, Scaramouche was sitting in his assigned office, working on some paperwork when you entered with some rapport in your hands, that dumb smile as always was on your face. Avoiding to look at your face, Scaramouche didn't want to get irritated more as he was already, all because of that arrogant bastard, Dottore.

"My lord, here's the rapport you asked for," you said quietly as you walked to his side. Humphing in response, he does not raise his head to look at you, and as his loyal subject, you understand very well what he wants. All he needed was to think, and you would already take action. From an outsider's perspective, it would look as if you two were communicating using telepathy.

Putting the rapport at his side, you stood silently next to him as you waited for an order, which was weird knowing that you were that talkative and annoying type of person who even in front of Lord Scaramouche would not shut up.

Scaramouche kept working without giving the order to leave. As he ignored your presence, you kept your mouth shut as you were strangely in a bad mood. Usually, when you are in his presence you seem to forget all your problems, yet, today, you feel annoyed, and it even surprised you.

Frowning slightly, you kept your posture straight, neither moving at all nor looking at what the sixth was doing. Just when you were minding your own business for the first time, you suddenly heard a sneer escaping his beautiful mouth that made you finally glance his way.

"This bastard! I am going to fucking kill him someday!" The Balladeer roared angrily. He is most likely talking about the second again, you assumed unfazed as you calmly stared at the scene of Scaramouche throwing things to the other side of the room.

You sigh softly with a smile that wasn't a smile, "quell down your anger, my lord..." You said as you walked up to the mess created by the almighty Balladeer and reached to clean it.

As you finished the cleaning, you stood up with the pile of papers in your hands when you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your forehead and soon enough you felt the hot red liquid sliding down your cheek. You froze while looking straight into Scaramouche's eyes. The pain became slightly unbearable as you squinted your eyes when the sixth lord stood up and walked up to you angrily.

"Put that shit away and fucking scram, stupid monkey!" He said as he kicked your side, venting his anger on you.

Now, you must admit that this got on your damn nerves. To be his stepstone every time someone messes with him is fucking annoying. Usually, you would take on his wrath gladly, yet this time you didn't feel like it.

What about you? Can't you feel anger or vent it? You don't even know what was wrong with you.

Snapping back to reality, you saw his hand flying towards you. He was about to push you but you grabbed it firmly, unfazed when your eyes met his deadliest glare.

"Fucking let go, now!" He articulates slowly, clearly pissed off. "No," You simply answered, which left him stunned for a moment.

Feeling the air becoming static, you sneered as you pushed him violently onto the desk. A loud noise was heard when he came in contact with the hard material, earning him a loud groan.

This completely took him off guard. His obedient dog was biting back! He couldn't believe that. Gasping slightly, he felt pain in his right side as it dumped into the edge of his desk.

That sure was painful.

Wanting to face you again, he put a hand on the desk for support, and as he was about to turn towards you, he was again being pushed against the flat surface.

Not understanding what was happening to him, he suddenly had to face you as you were looking down at him, sending shivers down his spine.

The way you looked at him left him breathless. This mean version of you was new to him. he had never seen this side of you, nor did he even give it a chance in his imagination.

The sixth Harbinger's stunned expression soon turned into anger, "what the hell you are doing?" he yelled, trying to push you aside, and of course, you were not budging at all.

You were a strong and talented Dendro swordsman recruited by the Fatui a long time ago, and you were assigned to Scaramouche on the first day since then you have taken all his anger and snarky attitude. Sometimes, he would treat you even worse than shit if you commit the slightest mistake, while some other times, he would act as if you did not exist.

If it wasn't for the admiration you held for him, you would have long ago snapped. Just like now.

You were between his legs with him pinned by you on the desk, one of your hands next to his head with your eyes squinted and a frown on your face as you kept looking at him intensely, stealing away his words.

Feeling the energy shift in the air, Scaramouche gasped as he felt something rolling around his wrists. It was your Dendro ability. Trying to fight back, Scaramouche squirmed under you yet the roots violently pinned both his wrists above his head in response.

"You are annoying, my lord," You said softly as you kept looking at him, "let go of me! you fucking dog!" He snaps back.

You chuckle as that free hand of yours caresses his white soft-looking cheek, "My lord is the prettiest, " you compliment him, "what a shame that such a beauty has a sharp and nasty temper..." You ease up the frown on your face as you lean more toward him, a dangerous glint in your eyes.

"W- What is wrong with you? back off!" He yells again, squirming around, his face flustered while looking away.

"You could've used your Electro power to stop me, Lord," you chuckled sarcastically, your breath now mixed with his, "I had enough of this, you see..." You vented as you bit his lower lip.

The frozen Scaramouche widened his eyes. The Balladeer seemed to forget how powerful he was and only used his legs to kick you off of him, his face blushing wildly.

Not letting go of his lower lip, you grabbed one of his flying legs and secured it by putting it over your shoulder.

"I think that lord Scaramouche needs some punishment, right?" You whisper in his ear in a dangerous tone, not caring anymore about the consequences to come.

317 notes · View notes

azsazz · 1 year

Text

Lips of an Angel (Part 2)

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Part 2 to Lips of an Angel per the request of many. The OG request came from @eddiesbixch696 : This randomly came to me because the song came on the radio but an absolute angst fest of an Azriel fic based on the song Lips of Angel by Hinder. The whole “my girl is in the next room but sometimes I wish she was you” lyric as he watches Elain. Ugh I love breaking my own heart sometimes 😭

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,512

[Part 1]

_________________________________________

This winter is one of the most bitter he’s experienced in Velaris. Or maybe it’s just him, his feelings as of late, the cold and empty cavern that is his heart without you, his thoughts wandering towards the female he’d left behind for the one who he’d thought would be his end all be all.

He turned out to be so fucking wrong about Elain.

She’s at dinner with the rest of the Inner Circle but Azriel had chosen not to go. She’d begged him, tugged on his arm and gave him that doe-eyed look that normally would have him giving in to any of her demands. Now it just makes him grimace.

He could hardly think about eating with the guilty thoughts swirling through his mind, consuming him completely.

What is wrong with him? He wanted Elain, and he had got it, at the price of hurting you. Azriel hadn’t seen a glimpse of you or heard a whisper about you in years. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were even still in town, how you’re doing now.

He’s been distancing himself as of late, and if the middle Archeron sister has any worries about it, she didn’t voice them to him. It’s hard to be around her when all he does is compare everything she does to you. They way she hugs him with her arms around his neck, staring up into his eyes when you would wrap your arms around his middle and burrow your head into the crook of his neck. The way that she goes on and on, needing to fill any and all silence with stories and anecdotes, whereas with you, the two of you could just enjoy each other’s company, no words needed.

He’d hardly been coming to bed, unable to sleep because of the constant running thoughts of his ex. The drink he usually had was more like a bottle, but did nothing to aid his insomnia. Flying didn’t seem to help either, nor sparring. It’s like all his favorite things had been tainted with the thought of you, in his arms gliding over the city or the smile on your face when you’d landed your first strike on him with the practice sword after six months of giving it your all.

Azriel doubted you’d kept up on your training after he’d ended things.

When he was able to get a few minutes of shut eye it was when he was away and could hold the necklace you’d left behind in his hand. His only reminder that you were ever really his to begin with.

It was the only thing he’d had left of you. You must’ve dropped it behind the dresser some time before you’d cleared the home of your things and he’d found it when Elain had wanted to move the furniture around in his room. Something about a more peaceful mind, if the bed was slid to the wall that didn’t face the door. He’d caught sight of the gleaming metal and tucked it away before she noticed.

He’d tried to regift it. First to Gwyn, because he still wanted to see it, gleaming, wrapped around another pretty neck. He’d gone so far as to give it to Clotho before promptly asking for it back thirty minutes later with crimson cheeks and a heavy heart.

He’d even thought about giving it to Elain for a special occasion. Surely she wouldn’t even know that it used to be yours. He’d imagined mouthing at the pendant hanging between your breasts every time you wore it. He hadn’t had the gall to give it to Elain.

So Azriel had hid it in a secret drawer of his desk after that, promptly forgetting about it because he’d been so enthralled with the breath of fresh air that was Elain.

He doesn't know what he’s doing in the city. Usually he opts for a long flight or time off in a different court, hoping that the warm sun of Summer would burn his feelings away or the fresh breezes of Autumn would clear his head.

But he’s here, shrunk down into his coat because he hadn’t thought to put a hat on, the bitter winds kissing his cheeks and neck annoyingly, and it reminds him of you. Of course it does, because he can’t seem to stop thinking about you, the way you’d always press your freezing fingers up under his shirt for warmth on a cold day.

Azriel’s hair keeps getting blown into his eyes and as much as he tries to shove it back it only slaps right back. He needs to get it cut but doesn’t even have the energy to do that, with everything going on in his mind lately.

He blinks harshly at the tendrils poking his eyes. He stumbles slightly, a strand stuck, and he’s trying to claw at it while grumbling, not quite watching where he’s going because he assumes that everyone will give him a wide berth like they always do–

He runs straight into someone, stumbling back as he frees the piece of hair from his eye. He blinks, an apology already rolling off the tip of his tongue when he realizes exactly who stands before him–

He’d forgotten how perfect you were.

An angel in the flesh.

“Azriel,” you breathe, stunned, and it makes his heart fracture in his chest.

You’re not alone like he wished you would be when he’d thought about all of the times this could happen, should he be so lucky. There’s a child with you, immediately tucking behind your leg at his appearance.

“(Y/N)...It’s really good to hear your voice,” he forces around the thickness in his throat. Saying my name goes unsaid.

Azriel can’t stop looking down at the little boy, hiding behind his mother’s leg. You’ve got a protective hand curled around his thick knit hat, the other clasping a to-go mug of what he scents as hot cocoa from the best bakery in Velaris. The one they used to frequent together, though he always remembered that you were more of a warm cider kind of female. Oh how you’ve changed.

It’s clear the babe is nervous, by the way he keeps tugging on the bottom of your coat. You don’t hesitate, hauling the little boy into your arms even with a hand full.

Azriel’s breath catches and his heart hammers in his chest because there’s tiny wings poking out of the child's fluffy coat.

“This is Wren,” you introduce awkwardly, shifting on your feet anxiously.

He looks closer now, noting how he’s around three or four, from what he can tell, and his heart aches because surely there is only one explanation for this. There's a burning in his chest, even though he knows he shouldn’t feel this way, that he’d moved on even quicker.

Those eyes…

Azriel’s brows furrow, his mouth parting but no words come out. His mind is whirling because Wren’s eyes are a mirror of his own and the longer he looks the more he can see himself in the child. The natural downturn of his mouth, almost apathetic in appearance, his wide eyes, lids lowered a touch over his perfectly round irises - the most stoic child he’s ever seen.

His eyes are glued to the small boy. He has your nose, your ruddy cheeks that nearly give every emotion you’re feeling away. Your cheeks are red right now, in fact. He’s sure that if he tugged the hat off of the child’s head all he’d see is inky black hair.

“Is he–”

There’s no way he’s not.

You’re quick to intervene, pressing your wrist over the boy's ear and leaning his head into your shoulder, blocking out your response from his tiny ears. “Yes, he is.”

Everything freezes. The snow fluttering down pauses its tracks, the wind is no longer a nuisance brushing the back of his neck with cold fingers, all of the sounds of the bustling city are drowned out by the ringing in his ears.

His hand twitches, lifting as if to touch the child, make sure he’s real, maybe pull that hat off after all. He knows that you’re telling the truth, you were never one to lie about anything, would rather suffer the consequences than talk your way out of it.

But this…

You turn, shifting away from the hand that’s reaching out.

Azriel flinches, arm falling back to his side. He physically cannot look anywhere else besides his son, who seems perfectly content in your arms, head shoved where your neck meets your shoulder. His gloved fingers clutch tightly to your jacket but his wide hazel eyes stay locked on male in front of him.

A punch in the gut is all he feels as he nearly collapses under the child’s gaze. He can feel his heart beating in his chest, the pulse that has his neck throbbing. There’s a dull ache inside of him, a numb feeling humming around his hollow chest where he wishes your mating bond would lie. Countless nights he’d prayed to the Mother to tether the two of you together - each night had without answer.

He never prays for Elain.

“He doesn’t know,” you admit, and it burns your throat like acid. You hadn’t had the guts to tell Wren that his father had broken your heart into a million pieces a few nights before you found out that you were pregnant.

You hadn’t had the heart to tell Azriel either.

Hadn’t thought it necessary, as he was perfectly happy with Elain while you were slowly putting yourself back together for the babe growing inside of you. You were determined not to let Azriel affect your life from then on, and it had been hard, but you’d finally gotten that feeling shoved so deep down inside of you you could pretend that you were okay, for Wren.

You hadn’t been expecting to run into Azriel ever again, and now that he’s standing in front of you, that part of your chest has been blown wide open.

He nearly looks the same as he did that night years ago. Hair disheveled from the winds, never thinking to bring a hat with him when his mind was awry, like he didn’t deserve to be warm. His eyes had dark rings around them much like they do now, the hazel color shroud by shadows, like the ones wrapped around his legs, the same way Wren had cuddled into yours before you’d picked him up.

His lips are chapped from the cold and even from beneath his thick coat you can tell that he hasn’t been eating well, sleeping either. Something awful must be going on.

He’d seemed so much happier with Elain that day he left.

You don’t have the heart to wonder what must have happened.

But as much as you want to ask, it’s no longer your place. You shouldn’t care about the male before you, eyes looking so painfully similar to your sons, it was hard not to think about Azriel every time you looked at Wren, even with the wings to match.

He nods once, finally breaking contact with the mini version of himself. He swallows and it hurts, there’s a lump of emotion caught in his throat because he hadn’t been prepared to run into you out and about in the city after years of not seeing you, but now he has a child. A child that doesn’t know him from the next male walking down the street.

He’s not sure what to say, what he can say. I’m sorry doesn’t seem good enough. I still love you won’t have an effect on the female who surely doesn’t believe that could be true.

He startles when a figure draws closer. He had been so caught up in what was going on before him that he hadn’t noticed the approaching male or heard his shadows repeating the information to him.

The male stops next to you, catching your attention with a hand on your lower back. He immediately senses something wrong when you look up at him with a forced smile. His mouth turns into a frown, emerald gaze taking in the shadowsinger standing across from you, immediately recognizing him.

“Azriel,” and there’s your fucking perfect mouth speaking his name. His heart still leaps in his chest when you do, and he wonders how he ever could’ve been so stupid as to choose Elain over you. “This is Malik.”

The man nods at him, eyes sparking with an emotion that’s gone before even Azriel can pick it up, so he responds the same, tilting his head but offering no words to the male who’s stepped up beside you.

He watches the male beside you with his spymaster’s eye. The one that’s kissed your cheek and has a hand caressing your back, when it should be him who’s doing that. It should be him who Wren is reaching out to.

“Daddy,” Wren smiles, and Azriel’s heart twists in his chest, splits down the center at the utter confidence in his son’s voice, claiming this male to be his father.

Malik is…handsome, Azriel supposes, in his own way.

Azriel studies him and finds that the male his son is calling his father looks quite similar to him. Dark hair shoved under a matching knit cap, thick lashes dusted with snow, fluttering over his piercing green eyes. Instead of lines around his mouth from centuries of frowning he has them by his eyes, like he’s the happiest male on the planet.

If he’s truly with (Y/N), he is.

“Would you mind giving us a minute, Malik?” you request gently, passing the babe over. The male gives you a soft smile that makes the fire in Azriel’s stomach grow. He watches Malik lean down to press a chaste kiss on your cheek, and Azriel doesn’t miss the way that you lean into it before flinching back, turning your guilty gaze on him like he’d just caught you cheating.

No, it had been the other way around, hadn’t it?

“Mommy?” Wren questions with a glance towards Azriel. He stretches his wings out behind him and Azriel’s eyes prick with emotion, seeing wings so little.

Wren is already so much like his father, with his dark hair and pouty frown, gleaming eyes and controlled temper. But those tiny wings hurt you that much more.

A not so subtle reminder to Azriel of all of the flaws he passed down to his son. Never a babe with Elain, though. The children he used to imagine all had your eyes and smile, your calming aura and beautiful laugh. He’d never thought his son would be a spitting image of him, with his hair, his eyes, his nose, his wings.

“I’ll be right there baby,” you reassure, passing your cup of cocoa to Malik. Azriel watches the brush of your fingers against his and his throat clogs with emotion. The skin of his hand is flawless, smooth and stretching across muscle and bone, nothing like his, marred with callouses and scars.

“It was nice to meet you, Azriel,” Malik says in that low voice, one that Azriel would feel like is completely genuine if he weren’t kissing his (Y/N) and holding his son.

“Likewise,” he answers stiffly because he doesn’t want to upset you. He’d done enough of that.

Wren doesn’t say anything as they depart, keeping his big hazel eyes on Azriels. They widen slightly when his gaze brushes over his wings but he’s not as impressed as Azriel would’ve thought, and he doesn’t know why the response doesn’t sit well with him.

“I know you must have a lot of questions,” you begin when they’re out of earshot.

“I do.”

“And I know that,” you murmur, squeezing your eyes shut for a breath while you twist your fingers together. You’re nervous. Hadn’t planned on telling him ever, and now that he’s seen Wren up close there’s no denying it now.

Of course you’d thought this day might come, but now, every scenario you’d thought thorough in your head disappears.

“He doesn’t know,” Azriel states again because all of this seems like a dream gone rogue. He wonders if he’s somehow slipped into an unconscious state, a lucid dream perhaps, which didn’t seem unlikely because he hasn’t been sleeping lately.

“No,” you agree, “And I don’t want him to.”

His head snaps up, mouth parted in disbelief. He’s ready to argue, slipping so easily back into the way he was right before he’d ended things, emotional and utterly a wreck.

You speak before any words can escape, “Whatever it is you’re going to say, don’t. You have no say in my son's life. You gave that up when you gave me up.”

“I didn’t even know you were pregnant.”

“Would it have made a difference?”

Azriel stays silent.

Your voice is thick when you respond and he hates that he’s made you feel like this again.

“Exactly.”

He doesn’t even know what to say. There are so many questions racing through his mind he doesn’t even know where to start so he just blurts out the first thought his tongue grabs onto.

“Who’s going to teach him to fly?”

“Rhys said that he would,” you answer, and the flicker of anger that cuts across his eyes tells you that he hadn’t been aware his brother knew he had a child. The muscle in his jaw ticks and his shadows sweep around his feet now, just like they always do when he’s upset. “He’s taking care of us.”

Azriel needs to calm down, he knows he does, but he feels completely blindsided by his own brother right now that he doesn’t know what to do. He’s torn between winnowing right up to the River House to give Rhys a piece of his mind or jumping up into the air to release all of the rage and sadness that’s consumed him tenfold.

He’s taking care of us.

Azriel should be the one taking care of you.

“He knows?” His voice is deathly calm and it sends shivers up your spine.

It’s why Wren didn’t look impressed by his wings. Because he has seen Rhys’ before.

His shadows are whipping around erratically and Malik takes notice, questioning your safety with a single look.

You reassure you’re okay with a nod and he relaxes slightly, letting Wren to the ground when the little boy squirms in his grasp.

Azriel watches how the male places his hands on his son’s shoulders, holding him in place.

“I asked him not to tell you,” you admit wetly, “Begged him, really.”

He’s brewing.

“Don’t,” your voice is stern, not liking how he’s stewing. “Don’t you blame him. It was my choice.”

“And what about my choice?”

Your mouth goes slack, “Your choice in what?”

“This,” he roars because he can’t take it anymore. His shadows flare around him, a wall of darkness sweeping up from the ground to his shoulders.

Wren screams, pushing away from Malik and rushing over to where you’re facing off with Azriel.

“Mommy!”

The utter terror in the little boys voice makes Azriel’s spine straighten and his stomach churn.

Wren’s on him in an instant, little fists shoving and hitting his thighs. It shouldn’t have the slightest effect on him but it does. He’s defending his mother because some strange male has raised his voice at her.

Each point of contact is a stake to his heart. Azriel stands helplessly, watching the little boy go at him until you’re crouching down and pulling him away, Malik pressing behind you with his hands on your arms and a glare in Azriel’s direction.

You look up from where you’re hugging Wren tightly to your chest that’s throbbing painfully, heart racing from something akin to fear, something you’d never felt for Azriel before. There’s tears brimming in your eyes from the sight, from the conversation. He’d never raised his voice at you like this.

This male…you don’t even know who he is anymore.

Your voice shakes when you speak, “You don’t get a choice, Azriel. You lost that a long time ago and you know that.” Your eyes wash over him, up and down. He nearly melts, when venom laces your voice, despite the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “You made that choice.”

“(Y/N),” he reaches out to try and stop as you stand, lifting Wren into your arms again. You shrink away from him.

“I have to go,” you mutter, allowing Malik to usher you and your son away from the stewing Illyrian. You’d always been able to fight for yourself, even without the training. Malik surely knows that, but it still disgusts Azriel how he’s done nothing to defend you.

Azriel turns to look at the babe one last time. He’s stood frozen, head hung and snow falling into the back of his jacket like a fool, watching the love of his life walk away from him again, but this time, he’s the one who’s heartbroken.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #part 2 #azsazz #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acotarxreader #dad!azriel #wren alternate timeline #dad!azriel au #daddyaz #azriel angst

1K notes · View notes

trendywaifus · 5 months

Text

imagine you and qingque making out in her office and get caught by fu xuan. cw: none. implied poly

“ i think we should stop before fu xuan catches us.” you suggested in–between kisses, nervously glancing over at the door. qingque whines, holding you closer to her body and peppers your face with kisses. “ c’mon babe, it’s my work office. she knows i’m not here that often. “ you sighed, gently pushing her back by the shoulders to look her straight in the eyes, qingque pouts.

“ so, the times where you were in your office, does she come to check up on you? “ you inquired, unsure of her assurance. she laughs awkwardly, giving you a goofy smile. “ y-yeah, but fu xuan almost always visits my office when it’s my nap time! i usually nap here to replenish my energy!” rolling your eyes, you squished her cheeks, making her face smush together adorably. “ so you’re telling me that you only use your work office to nap—wait, what time is your nap time?”

“ u-uh, twhoo thwirty? “

you peered over at the electronic clock on her desk. it’s only 2:15pm so you have at least fifteen minutes to spare. “ bwabe, cwan youu lwet goo uhf mwy fwace noww? it hwurts. “ she whines, looking at you with pleading eyes. you let out a deep sigh and released her from your hold. “ sorry, qingque. to be frank, i shouldn’t be here. i’m suppose to be with the general but, i don’t feel like hearing his babbling and old man yawns today. i’m quite sure he has already contacted our other woman about my absence. i better leave before she comes here— “

qingque holds your waist tighter, “ w-we still have time, right? just five more minutes, please? i don’t get to see you until the next six hours! i need my daily dose of (name)! “ she begs, giving you the puppy eyes. you paused for a moment, pondering over the current situation. if you stay now, you get to spend a little more time with your slacker girlfriend. but, you’re also in risk of getting in trouble by your other strict girlfriend. if you leave now, you avoid the scolding but you have to tolerate your boss being a sly bum for the rest of the day.

yeah, the former’s better.

you said nothing and pulled her into a kiss. qinque let out a small noise of celebration and kisses back ardently. the next few minutes were filled with nothing but small giggles and obnoxious sounds of kissing. you two entirely forgot about being mindful which led to you not noticing the door fly open and a familiar voice shouting into the office.

“ (name) and qinque! what are you two doing?! “

like deers caught in headlights, your heads whip towards the doorway, looking absolutely dumbfounded and lips completely swollen. fu xuan crosses her arms, tapping her foot impatiently with an angry expression on her face. “ and (name), general jingyuan is looking for you! do you know how worried i was when he informed me of your absence?! i attempted to call you and your phone immediately went to voicemail! and you, qingque, i tried to message you about their possible whereabouts and you didn’t even answer me back! so i came straight here to find you—o-only to see you two fools shoving your tongues down each other’s throats like no tomorrow! explain yourselves because you two are in big trouble! especially you, (name)! “

you quickly rose from your chair, “ w-well, first thing first, we were not shoving our tongues into each other’s throats, fu! w-we were um—“

“ yeah, we were! “ qinque chimes, casually standing up from her seat.

“ wh-what the hell, don’t tell her that—“

“ we were too busy sucking each other’s faces off that we didn’t notice any of our notifications. matter of fact, we ignored your calls and texts, hoping that you’ll come here to find us! we want you to join us, our dear lady fu! “

you caught second hand embarrassment from seeing the astonished look on fu xuan’s now beet red face.

#trendy #fu xuan x reader #qingque x reader #honkai star rail women x reader

301 notes · View notes

giasfolklore · 6 months

Text

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

“i just wanna be one of your girls tonight.”

꒰ synopsis ꒱ྀི with the need to stand up for working overtime and still not getting paid enough you were challenged to talk to the chief of the medical department but things took a wild turn there and guess what? It wasn’t just talking.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ note: posting today about my cutie!! this is all just porn with plot tbh not proofread

꒰ content warnings ꒱ྀི nsfw (17+), fem!reader, praise, dom!geto, oral (f! recieving), pussy drunk geto, rushed, unprotected sex, porn with plot.

｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡

I imagined trudging into his office and slamming the door shut. Before he could ask me what I was doing, I’d take of my shirt. Then I’d walk over and sit on him, and kiss him. Let him remove my bra. He’d have a hand on my back and the other on the back of my head. That way I couldn’t back out. I’d pull off his shirt and work with his belt.

Once the fly was down he’d carry me onto his desk, and we’d work together to push off all the papers. Then he’d pull out his cock, and quickly pull down my underwear. He’d be so horny that my panties would only be at my knees and he’d penetrate.

Then he’d pump as hard as he could and I’d moan as loud as I wanted to. Who cares who hears? I’d squeeze the cum out of him. It would be something that seemed perpetual. And, no, there’s no part where I imagine us putting our clothes back on. We wouldn’t. Instead, we’d try some more; on the floor, me sitting on him, me against the wall. We’d fuck our brains out.

These scenes repeated and altered themselves in my mind as I bit into my sandwich.

“… right, y/n?”

I turn suddenly, “I’m sorry, what?”

“Our overtime. It’s unfair,” Paris said.

“Yeah,” Ashley agreed, “We’re overworked and underpaid.” As she continued her speech, the other nurses were nodding their heads and making affirmative noises. “They should stop letting the doctors get off so easy. Otherwise, pay us more or hire more of us. Now who’s gonna’ march into the chief’s office and tell him?”

“Not me,” Paris shook her head, “It’s a lost cause. He’s too busy with his divorce and whatnot.”

“I’ll do it,” I said without thinking. They all began to laugh.

“You?” Ashley said in disbelief.

“Yeah, no offense, y/n, but you’re not exactly the type who wins arguments,” Paris said.

Another girl, I forgot her name, said, “Yeah, what’re you going to do?” She began to mock me; put her hands behind her back, looked down at the ground, and wiggled her feet, “Umm… sir… C-c-could you please…” She didn’t even finish. They all laughed once more.

I stood up and threw my sandwich onto the table. “Oh yeah? Watch me.”

I could feel their wide-eyed stares as I marched down the hall. What was I doing? What am I thinking?

That was stupid of me to ask. Of course I know what I’m thinking. The circumstances were perfect. I was thinking to get some, that’s what. This was my chance. I had an excuse to go down to his office.

But when I got there, I choked.

“Hi, y/n,” he said absentmindedly, looking down at his papers. “What do you need?”

“Well, I…” I tried to remember bits and pieces of Ashley’s speech, “We work overtime, and we’re not getting paid enough, and you should pay us more, and hire more nurses, and… Wait, that’s not…” I slammed my forehead with my palm.

Smooth, Tiffany. Smooth. That was definitely sexy. How could he resist you now? Coward.

Suddenly, I thought of kissing him. I imagined him undressing me. I couldn’t think of a good argument. My clit had an itch that only his cock could scratch. It was warm, tingly and empty.

“ y/n-”

“I’m not taking ‘no’ for an answer,” I barked out, and immediately regretted it.

Overly demanding nurse equals mistress with whip? There are just some lines I can’t cross.

Geto looked up at me. He stood up and said, “Why should I? What will I get out of it? What are you willing to give me in return?”

This is your chance. Make it sexy. Seduce him.

I walked up to him until our faces were only a few inches away. I looked into his eyes and said, “Anything.”

He looked into my eyes, and then down the length of my body. Was he finally noticing me as a woman? Was he sizing me up? Was he looking at my boobs? I sure hoped so.

“On your knees,” he said.

“W-what?” I stuttered.

“You said you’d do anything, right? On your knees,” he demanded.

This wasn’t going the way I planned it, but I had to learn to be flexible if I wanted him to take me seriously. So I got on my hands and knees. Then Ken proceeded to walk around me. I assumed the worst as I heard him shut the door and unzip his fly.

Before I knew it, his cock was right in my face. It was fully awake. White and its tip almost touching my nose.

“Suck me,” he demanded.

Well, at least it’s not anal sex, I rationalized. So I opened my mouth and put his cock in. I tried to move my tongue around, but suddenly his hand was at the back of my head. He jerked my head forward, “Suck me.” Now it was stuck down my throat, and I couldn’t breathe. I began to choke, but he didn’t care. He started pumping, with his hand still at the back of my head, and the tip of his dick was hammering on the back of my throat. I thought I was going to puke.

Before I knew it, Geto was pumping even harder and he began moaning. Then I felt something slimy slide down. I swallowed. The moment he pulled out I started to cough. I ran out of the office as fast as I could.

I hid inside a bathroom stall, ashamed. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It was supposed to be romantic. It was supposed to be a moment where he finally saw me as a sexy, independent and confident woman. But all he needed was to jerk off.

No, c’mon. That was a good thing. I must have gotten his attention. I went out of the stall and looked at myself in the mirror. I washed my face so it wouldn’t seem too puffy. I traced the dark circles under my eyes from all the overtime. That’s sexy, right? The implication of long, sleepless nights, doing unspeakable things from the cover of night-time ‘til the break of dawn. I let my long raven hair out of its bun and shook my head a slightly to give it a messy, bedhead look, to give the idea that I was rolling around in a bed… with someone else. Then I looked at my uniform… Not much I could do in this area… Except maybe…

I went back into the stall and I removed my undershirt. Then I went back to the mirror. Now the silhouette of my black bra was more visible. In fact, the top edges of the cups were peeking out of the collar. Okay. Now I could go back outside.

I walked down the halls and went back to my regular duties. I was both excited and nervous for when the chief would see me again. This was a big hospital, but I knew he was going to look for me.

Before I knew it there was a tap on my shoulder and a sheepish Geto when I turned.

“Can I talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Sure,” I smiled.

My heart was beating fast as we turned the corner. As we passed the janitor’s closet, I saw an opportunity. I was breaking a lot of personal boundaries today, so what was one more? I opened the door and pulled him in.

“I thought we might need a little privacy for this,” I explained as I closed the door.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “What I asked of you was inappropriate and out of line.”

“Don’t be sorry,” I slowly moved towards him, in an attempt to sound seductive. “I’d do it again, if you wanted.” I very slowly pulled off my shirt. Then I placed my arms around his neck and pushed my crotch up against his, “How about right now?”

Surprisingly enough we began kissing, and it was like I couldn’t pull him close enough to me. I ran my fingers through his hair as the stubble on his chin scratched on my skin. His fingers traced a line from the nape of my neck down to the small of my back, sending shivers down my spine. I felt his dick harden against my cunt, and I began to undo his belt. He pulled off his shirt, and I pressed my chest against his and began kissing him some more.

I was so hot my leg was starting to vibrate. Geto suddenly pulled away, “I think that’s your phone.”

“Oh.” Oh.

As I was about to read my text, he said, “Listen. I really want to make it up to you. Do you want to have dinner tonight?”

I smiled, “Yeah, I’d like that.” I bent down to reach for my shirt when he suddenly said,

“Can I see them?”

I got up slowly and turned to face him. I moved closer, and he unhooked my bra. I let it fall onto the floor, and he stared at them as he placed both hands on each of them. Then he looked up at me and cupped my face. We began kissing again. Only, this time, we did it much slower. But both our phones buzzed, so it was time to go.

We helped each other dress and went on with our duties. But I couldn’t concentrate. I needed more. I wanted his penis inside my vagina. It was screaming for it, involuntarily contracting throughout the day. I was even tempted to sneak a masturbation session in a bathroom stall. But I controlled myself. I told myself that it would be nothing compared to the real thing. It was the only thing that got me through the day.

When I finally finished my shift, I went home, took a shower, and got dressed. He picked me up at 8 and took me to a restaurant. It was really fancy, too. We sat in an where the seats formed a semi-circle with the open side facing out into the rest of the restaurant. The entire thing was padded with soft material. We sat almost beside each other.

The first thing we ordered was wine. Lots of it. We started talking about anything and everything. Then the subject moved to his divorce.

“My wife is very dominating and controlling,” he was explaining. “She knows what she wants, but she doesn’t care about the consequences.”

“Well, that’s better than being shy and quiet, isn’t it?” I laughed then looked down.

“No,” he put a finger on my chin and made me face him, “I get to learn new things about you. Especially after today.”

“Well,” I slid a little closer to him, “maybe after dinner you’ll get to discover more.” I rubbed my leg up and down his.

“Why wait?” he leaned in closer and began kissing me, sliding his leg up my thigh. I was a little startled when I felt a tug on my panties. I lifted myself up a little so he could pull them off easily. Thank god the table cloths were long. With my underwear on the ground, he began to squeeze my cunt and I gave out a slight moan. Then with his other hand, he rubbed my back in such a way that my bra became undone once again. I moved in closer and put a hand on his crotch, gently squeezing his dick, which started getting harder. Soon his finger was in, and I moaned even louder.

But I was aware that we were in a public place.

I pulled away and said, “Wait five minutes, then follow.” I pushed my underwear under the table cloth and got up. With a spring in my step I went to the unisex bathroom and didn’t lock it.

Five minutes seemed like forever when Geto finally came in. He locked the door behind him. I pulled off his blazer. He put his hands on my butt and pulled me in. We kissed and I pulled of his tie. He unzipped my dress and, as it fell to the floor, my bra dangled on my arms. As I unbuttoned his shirt, he took of his belt. I pulled it off and he unzipped his fly only to reveal a pair of boxers. Out of frustration, I pushed him to the wall, pulled down his boxers enough to expose his penis and then pushed it in. When its tip hit my cervix I let out a loud moan.

With his hands back on my butt he began pushing me in and in and in. With my arms snaked around his neck I sucked on his tongue as hard as I could, almost biting it a couple of times. He pulled away and kissed my neck, and I was caught off-guard. I almost yelled.

He then pushed me backwards, his penis falling out. I threw myself at him and kissed him again. He pulled down the toilet seat cover and sat down. I sat on top of him and couldn’t stop sighing. I pumped and bent backwards so he could kiss my breasts. Then he began to suck my nipples and I sucked on his neck.

He reached for my butt again and began to pull me in so hard his penis hammered onto my cervix, and I couldn’t help it. I could feel my insides contracting as hard as they could, and he began to moan as well. I was sure he was coming, and that I was, too. My patience served me well. This was a million times better than masturbating.

Then his pulling me in slowed down, and our bodies were pressed against each other the whole time. I lay my head on his shoulder, and he lay his on mine. We were both panting.

“Did you like it?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I exhaled. “You?”

“You were so wet,” he sighed. Then he pulled away to look into my eyes, “You’re so sexy.”

“You were really hot,” I was still panting. “Discover enough?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” I gave him a peck on the lips, “if we go over to my place, you’ll see a lot more.”

“How about actually having dinner first?” he joked.

I chuckled, “Sure. That, too.”

I very gently got off him and picked up my bra. As I put my dress on, I turned my back to him and said, “Could you help me with this?”

“Sure,” he said, and his hand slipped down and squeezed each butt-cheek once first. Then he zipped it up.

I turned around to help him with his tie. When I was done, I pulled him in closer and asked, “You sure you don’t want another round?”

“I’d love it,” he kissed me. “But I think people are waiting to use the bathroom.”

“But we’re using it,” I put my arms around him again.

He placed his hand on my hips, “Later.”

“Okay,” I kissed him, then let go. “Wait five minutes.”

I unlocked the door and went out and walked back to our table. I tried to very discretely put my underwear back on. But when Geto came back, he slipped his hand under my dress again, and frowned when he felt cotton.

“Why’d you put it back on?” he asked. I shrugged. “Leave it off. I want to touch you,” he began to pull it down again.

“So you’ll touch it, but you won’t use it?” I whispered in his ear.

“Later,” he smiled, then kissed me. “I like just being next to you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

I felt blood rushing to my cheeks. “Well, I like being near you, too.”

I slid closer so I could lay my head on his shoulder. He put an arm around me and pulled me in for a side hug. This was nice; an unexpected turn of events, if you were to base it from how it began. But I was elated. Tired, but not really. I felt confident. I felt like a woman.

157 notes · View notes