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ilylovelyz · 9 months

Note

housewife! reader w traditional! manly! ushijima makes my knees weak omg. the thought of this man training all day to come home to his little housewife and a home cooked meal!! he doesn’t care that you aren’t done setting the table he’s gonna bend you over it anyways. he’s just so in love w you!

sjdjjwje

this is kinda dark but the thought of him hiding ur birth control pills or replacing them with the sugar pills so he can knock you up oh my daysss like what’s the point of letting him fill your womb if he can’t put a baby in there :(

⍣ ೋ Million Dollar Man

˚ · . dilf!ushijima x afab!reader

: ̗̀➛ dubious consent of impreg (?), birth control sabotage, traditional!husband ushijima, stay at home/housewife!reader, kitchen sex (yummy), misogyny (?), breeding, degradation + humiliation, size comparison, size kink, big dick toshi, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, just a whole lotta breeding <3, mentions of pregnancy dur

࣪𓏲ּ i was originally gonna work on an angsty fic for hinata but this was calling me </3 ushijima is so lana del rey

you're screwed up and brilliant you look like a million dollar man

"i'm home." he calmly says, careful to not close the door so noisy.

he takes off his shoes like normal, changing into his house slippers shortly after. he's inhaling eagerly, the scent of well-cooked rice filling his senses.

he walks to the kitchen, his slipper clad feet softly pattering against the natural wood that is his traditional house's flooring. he passes by the doorway that connects to the living room, glancing in and stealing a look that is his first born daughter napping on the floor next to his also sleeping second daughter.

he makes a mental note to not be so loud as they are napping, he knows better than to disturb them.

"welcome home, wakatoshi." you say with that warm smile of yours, eyes crinkling up at the sight of your husband. he softly smiles at you in return, grunting softly in response.

his eyes look over to the stove, a large pot with a cover surely boiling, and then to the rice cooker; which is what he assumes is full of already well-done rice.

he looks back at you curiously, he can only guess what you're making, he doesn't cook often, thats your job as a housewife.

"i'm makin' hayashi rice, you're favorite."

his cheeks can only tingle with shyness, to anyone he might just look ungrateful or monotonous, but it's far from that.

he adores you.

"thank you," he says, taking a few steps towards you until his chest is a few inches away from your face.

he towers over you, you have a tiny frame compared to his almost gigantic one. some have even questioned the two of you about it, stealing a couple of snide jokes here and there.

he can't lie and say that he doesn't find it "interesting." he brings a hand suddenly up to your head, patting your hair lightly. you blush lightly at his affection, leaning into his gentle touches.

he doesn't understand why you still get so shy around him, but he doesn't mind it. he likes that you're so humble and polite, even when it comes to your own husband that you've known since the young age of 17. you're 33 now.

"hm," he hums lightly, leaning down to press a kiss onto your forehead. he places a few kisses on your forehead, temple and nose before he's taking your chin in-between his fingers and tilting your head upwards so he can kiss you on your lips.

it still surprises you, how he can take your breath away from one kiss. as his hands wrap around your upper back to bring you closer to him, you can only think back to the time when the two of you were younger and less experienced, him having less experience than you, so you had to lead him with the expertise you had.

it was cute then, the way he was the one who trembled under your touch, looking at you curiously for the courtesy to touch you.

oh, how time flies. now the two of you own a home together, and have two children together, two beautiful girls, the youngest still a little less than a year old.

while ushijima has always been so stoic and known for it, he, over the many years that have passed, has become twice the man he was those years ago.

it almost flusters you, and you can't help but look back on those younger days with a bittersweet smile, remembering the little boy who would ask to hold your hand.

you fluster at the way his strong hands are tearing your clothes off boldly in the middle of the kitchen, his mouth breathing in your sweet gasps for air as he kisses you passionately.

he cups the side of your face, holding your face still as he all but explores your mouth with his own tongue. you tremble within his hold, your ankles almost giving in weakly just because of a simple kiss.

he notices, and with a squeal, he's lifting you up easily into his arms, walking over to the dinner table, using one of his arms to move aside the dishes you precariously chose for that night. dinner can wait, you guess.

he lays you over the cold wooden table, his hands caressing and rubbing your bare skin. you look beautiful underneath him, eyes already glazed over with tears, mouth red and plush. your neck has fading love bruises and bites, he takes note of it to make sure to go over them once more later.

his hand comes up to fondle your breast, his other running down your torso and down to your back thigh. you mindlessly softly moan at his touches, it always feels good to be touched by him.

but he shushes you, leaning downwards to rest his forehead against yours. "you'll have to be quiet, you don't wanna wake up the kids, don't you?" he whispers softly, in contrast, his fingers are already gliding themselves over your folds, dipping a finger into your already dripping cunt.

you gasp at his lewd actions, an eyebrow raising at his words. "d-don't you think i-it's a bit unfair to say that and then.." you meekly say, trailing off when he adds in another finger, curling them inside and pressing against your sensitive walls.

"..and then what?" he teases, punctuating his sentence by pressing his finger-pads against that sweet spot. your body jolts with pleasure, a hand of yours coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your pathetic moans.

"y-you're mean," you mumble out, eyes stinging with shy tears. it has your eyes widening when he's visibly smirking at your words, pupils dilated and dark with pure lust.

"you're so naughty, don't you feel ashamed, as a mother, to be so wet like this on the diner table of all places? isn't this where your kids eat?" he boldly says, adding in a third finger as to worsen his seeming punishment. bastard.

"t-this isn't—it's not–you're such a bastard..!" you stutter out, your free hand coming up to punch lightly against his chest. he lightly chuckles at your words before he returns to his menacing actions.

"why don't you cum on my fingers like this, mama? don't be so loud, you'll wake your dear kids." he says, standing up straight to watch the way your body trembles and jolts with pleasure at his words. like command, despite your own pleas and mewls of disapproval, you're cumming on his fingers like a whore, on his word.

thats how it should be.

you're panting on against the dinner table, hiding your face into the crook of your elbow. you're quickly setting your attention back on him when he calls out your name, opening your mouth submissively when he presses his the same fingers that are covered in your own cum against your lips, feverly sucking up your own juices from his fingers.

you blush once more when he's lightly scoffing at your actions, his free hand coming up to rush his pants and boxers off, freeing his cock and lining himself up to your cunt. "don't be loud, mama," you gasp at his words, his fat tip popping into the tight confines of your pussy walls.

his pace is already ruthless, almost taunting you as he lifts your leg over his shoulder, his cock snugly fitting against your cervix with every thrust. you try your best not to be so loud, but it's a hard task to do, especially when he's purposely abusing all of your weak spots.

his eyes narrow at your state underneath him, grunting against the skin of your calf when he sees a tear run down your cheek. "crying? does it feel good?" he asks menacingly, his free hand coming up to squish your cheeks together degradingly, forcing you to pout within his grip.

it only makes you cry harder at his mean gestures, he never fails to make you feel so little, so small. all count of restrain is lost as you shamelessly moan and cry out at his unrelentingly pounding, cheeks burning greatly as you give into his clear humiliation.

he's almost uncharacteristically grinning at your defeat, bending your leg inwards to your chest, almost bending you in half. you grip onto his forearm for purchase when you're unexpectedly cumming once more, vision going white when he doesn't even slow down.

his right hand comes down to squeeze at your doughy breast, noticing that it's lacking the milk you used to have a few months ago. no, that won't do.

"'gonna cum inside." he declares, his other hand coming down to lift the leg that is dangling off the table so as you get you into the perfect mating press. your eyes are widening bewilderedly at his words, a little shocked.

"b-but i'm not on birth control," you mutter out, but from the way he doesn't falter in his thrusts, it seems he already knows. yeah, of course he knows, he threw them away awhile ago. you don't need those silly pills anymore, you're his wife, your duty is to stay at home, raise his kids, and have as many kids as he pleases.

"t-toshi, utako is not even a year old–ah," you cry out, only to be silenced when ushijima is shoving his tongue back down your throat.

"you're my wife, don't you want my babies?" he asks, stilling his hips, his cock pulled out to the tip. he stares at you expectantly.

you're thinking for a few seconds, he doesn't assume anything in particular except of his cock. you're braindead like that, having nothing but a mommy brain after the last few times he's fucked you so well and good that he got you knocked up.

"..want toshi's babies.." you sob, throwing your head back when you're once again coming around his cock once he continued his thrusts at your words once more, your pussy sloshing lewdly with every movement.

yes, of course you want his babies. that's what you're made for. that's what your lovely existence is for, to cook him a good dinner and then spread your legs for him as dessert. whats a good woman if she doesn't submit to her husband?

he's grateful that you're a good woman, one that is so intelligent yet submissive to him. one that is letting him stuff you fill of his thick seed, letting her hard-working husband fill her yet again full with their third child.

it's just this that you're expected to give, you don't have to do much aside from look after the house and the children you produce, you can do whatever you want with the free time you have left, whether it's the beautiful paintings you create, or the horrendous amount of shopping you do with his credit card.

"i love you," he whispers softly against your ear, noting from the way your chest is rising slowly means that you passed out. dinner still hasn't been served, but thats okay. you've probably had a long day too.

౨ৎ please leave a like and repost with tags

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erodasfishtacos · 10 months

Text

Picked The Right One

prompt: ceorry first vs most recent time

word count: 8.5k+

warnings: teeth rotting fluff, smut

AN: hiiii. Long time! I’m not posting on here anymore really but I wanted to post a one shot to show my appreciation for my fans who can’t subscribe to my patreon.

I post 4-5 8k+ fics a month for $3USD

Love youuuuu isla x

YN had never ever pictured herself where she is currently at right now.

Because currently, she was trying to pick between two different dresses as she went on her fifth date with a billionaire.

It sounded comical even in her head.

YN never really imagined who she would end up with but she had been through a handful of duds and thought that might set the precedent for the rest of her life.

Up until Harry, she barely even made it past a date with someone before she’s calling it off because she can’t see herself with the person.

The last time YN went out on a date, the man ‘forgot’ his wallet after ordering three imported beers that cost YN nearly half of a paycheck.

Their dates had been going well, YN felt less and less nervous every time that she saw Harry but she still felt the need to impress him.

She shouldn’t have googled his dating history even though it doesn’t confirm anything from his past - he has always been secretive and private about his personal life.

However, there are some paparazzi shots of him leaving exclusive night clubs with pretty, modelesque girls in the background behind him.

And thousands of gossip blogs who loved to predict who he was sleeping with and who he was in a relationship with.

He had disclosed to YN that he has only had one serious relationship that ended horribly when he was just beginning his career which would have been years ago.

YN’s still in her bathrobe, Harry’s coming to pick her up any moment, and she’s wondering how nice the bra and underwear set she picked out needs to be.

Tonight was the first time Harry was taking her to his house or from what she saw on google - his 23.3 million pound estate.

YN had been surprised that he hadn’t been pushy like other dates who tried to get in her pants.

The sexual tension has definitely been building but Harry hadn’t made any move to do anything about it.

He hadn’t asked her back to his house after any of the five dates but their kisses had been getting longer and steamier.

Particularly after the last one.

Harry always parked his car and walked her up to her apartment door, she appreciated that he tried to not crinkle his nose at that mildew odor or how run down the interior of the building is.

When they get to her burnt orange door, YN unlocks it and turns back around to him as he watches her with a small smile.

“Do you want to come in?” YN offers even though she knows that he’ll decline, she’s always hopeful.

“I want to but I shouldn’t. Let me be a gentleman,” Harry simpers softly, his voice deep and accent thick, his hands come up to cup her jaw, “But I am going to steal a kiss.”

“Please,” YN agrees with excitement pumping through her veins, he leans down to connect their lips and he’s such a good kisser.

As soon as their lips connect, YN has to swallow down a moan because even though it’s just a kiss - she’s never been more turned on in her life.

She parts her lips when he swipes his tongue across them, pushing inside once she opens up, and stroking her tongue with his.

His body is pressed up into hers, cornering her more against the door and YN’s lets the smallest whimper slip.

She’s about to be embarrassed but Harry growls at the noise and breaks a part for the moment, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”

YN can’t even blink before his mouth is back on hers, holding her jaw a bit firmer, and biting at her bottom lip.

She had never physically felt herself getting wet until right now when she actually cold feel it start to coat her folds.

“Shame on you,” A scratchy voice hisses from behind them, making them split apart quickly, and they look back to see YN’s neighbor.

“Sorry, Mrs. Jameson,” YN waves her hand as the woman glares at her, shaking her head before disappearing into the apartment across from them.

Harry’s thumb comes up to pull at her swollen bottom lip, “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

YN’s never been so bold as now when she leans back up to kiss him again, “Please, come in?”

Harry entertains one more long kiss before he’s breaking them apart and taking a step back, “Let me do this right, pet. I’m going to make it special.”

“You do this with all your dates?” YN jokes lamely because she just can‘t imagine that she’s the first girl he’s done this with.

Harry’s smile falters a bit but he recovers quickly, his thumb now brushing over her cheekbone.

“I’m a bit embarrassed to say,” He chuckles as his eyes dart to the side in nervousness, “I haven’t been this much of a gentleman in the past is all I will say.”

“Why is it different for me? I’m not anything special,” She replies because she doesn’t think she’s nearly anything compared to the other beautiful women he’s had on his life.

“Hey,” His voice is firmer and offended by her comments, his green eyes serious and honeyed when he looks at her, “You’re the most special person I’ve ever met.”

YN startles when she hears a knock at her front door, glancing over to the clock, and Harry is exactly on time for their date.

She’s still staring at her lingerie sets when the noise echos through her apartment, her hair and makeup was at least done but she was still only in a towel.

After the second knock comes, YN’s cursing as she rushes to the door, swinging it open, and Harry’s in the hallways looking like he just walked off the set of a photoshoot in a perfect fitting suit and styled hair.

He raises an eyebrow as he looks her up and down, “I’m not going to complain if this is all you want to wear tonight. Much easier to take it off of you.”

Oh, they were definitely fucking.

YN moves aside to let him in, he ducks down to kiss her cheek before sitting on the edge of her sofa.

“I just need like two more minutes,” She tells quickly, why was her heart rate spiking anytime he was around?

“I’ll be here,” Harry replies as his eyes trace around her apartment, picking up a book on her coffee table.

YN takes a deep breath when she’s back in her room, snatching the sexier set off the bed before shimmying a recently purchased black dress overtop.

Harry stands up and straightens his broad shoulders when she comes back into the living room, “Bloody hell. You look like a dream.”

YN’s stomach flips at his seemingly sincere compliment but she can’t control the intrusive comments that follow in her own mind.

You’re not as pretty as that one model he was seen with

You’re not a model

He’s just being nice

“Thank you. You look handsome,” She replies nervously, she hadn’t been this nervous on their last two or three dates but it felt like the first time all over again.

Harry isn’t dumb, he can sense it but he’s kind enough not to call her out on it as they quietly walk to his car.

After slipping in the passenger seat of the exotic car, a new one for every date, and Harry begins to drive off - it almost feels tense for a moment.

Harry’s hand twitches on the wheel, hesitating before asking, “Is it okay if I touch you?”

It makes YN feels guilty that now she’s made Harry nervous enough that he didn’t feel comfortable enough to reach over.

“You don’t have to ask,” YN assures him with more confidence in her voice as his one hand moves from the well to her thigh, his hand was big, making her thick thigh look nearly encompassed, the metal of his rings was cold against her skin.

She wanted to smack herself when she felt the arousal starting to creep in, clenching her thighs together a bit too obviously because Harry smirks to himself but doesn’t make a remark.

“Thi-this is your house?” YN’s eyes widen when they pull through the gates, men dressed in black waving them through before the gate closes quickly behind them.

The pictures on google didn’t do the beauty of the sprawling estate justice.

It was so massive that YN couldn’t imagine just one person living alone in there and it made her a little sad to think about Harry in this near castle all by himself.

Harry gives her a tour of some of the rooms where all YN can do is nod along to what he’s saying, compliment the astounding beauty, and not have any doubt why his house has been mentioned in Architectural Digest so much.

Then he’s leading her to the kitchen where YN takes a seat on a stool while Harry begins pulling out the ingredients to make dinner.

YN cannot stop staring at everything around her - she’s never seen anything close to this and to think that she’s going on date with someone who lives this extravagantly.

The conversation flows easily while Harry moves around the kitchen to prepare the chicken Alfredo, there’s plenty of laughter and quite a few stolen kisses before they sit down for dinner.

Towards the end of the meal, the conversation becomes more serious, and Harry takes a sip of his wine before stating, “None of this impresses you, does it?”

YN’s taken aback by the question, he doesn’t seem angry but he just seems confused as he puts down his fork and knife, “What do you mean?”

Harry shakes his head like he doesn’t know how to get out the words he wants to, “It’s just…the cars, my house, it doesn’t seem like you care. I don’t mean that in a bad way, it just doesn’t seem to be impressing you and I…I don’t really know how to take that.”

“I’ve never brought a date to my home before but still, usually most of the conversation on previous dates has been about my business or my cars or my estates. You haven’t bought any of that up once or made a big deal about it.”

YN can’t read Harry very in this moment, she doesn’t know him well enough, and his face is smooth, calm but just the tiniest furrow in his brow gives away emotion.

“It’s very impressive, the life you’ve built,” YN chooses her words carefully, putting down her glass of wine, “It’s something you should be proud of. I haven’t brought any of those things up because those things aren’t who you are. I’ve been asking you about family, hobbies, likes, dislikes because I care about you as a person, not as a ‘billionaire’ or a ‘public figure.”

Harry’s face distorts a little bit, he almost looks a bit devastated as he looks down at his plate, and he doesn’t say anything which makes YN think she said something wrong.

“I’m sorry, I just…” YN trails off with a sigh.

“Don’t apologize, please. You have absolutely nothing to apologize for,” Harry glances back up with widen eyes, he reaches across the table to put his hand over her, “I’ve just never had someone care about me, I don’t think. At least not for a very long time.”

YN moves her hand away, only to move it atop his and squeezes, “I think it’s lovely that you’ve created a very comfortable and successful life for yourself but I’m falling for you as a person, not the cars or the house.”

And a blinding crooked smile breaks out on Harry’s face, YN loved when his dimples popped out and carved into his cheeks, “Falling for me? Are you falling for me, darling?”

YN’s feel the heat rises up into her cheeks, looking down at the table for a moment but then Harry’s pushing his chair back and standing up - he’s strides over to YN’s chair and helps her out of it, pulling her up and into his chest.

“No need to be embarassed, S’just me,” Harry rumbles as he tucks his finger up her chin and lifts her head so that he can connect their lips softly, YN’s hands coming to rest on his chest.

She giggles though, shaking her head at his words - it makes him pull back and ask, “What’s funny, hm?”

“You say it’s just you,” YN murmurs, their lips are stil brushing against one another’s as they talk, “But that’s the issue, you have me on my toes. I want to impress you, not embarrass myself.”

“M’already impressed,” Harry tells her between little pecks, “Impressed how smart you are, how independent and free-thinking you, by how fuckin’ gorgeous you are. You don’t need to be embarassed if you’re falling f’me because sweetheart, m’pretty much already gone for you. You’re everything that I want.”

“Please,” YN says softly because they basically just confessed their fondness for each other and the dark sweet smell of his cologne was making her dizzy.

She would never consider herself sex hungry until this point, she had always been more than okay waiting a few dates to get intimate but YN had never craved someone else’s body like this.

“Please what, sweet girl,” Harry replies against her lips, he had her pressed up against an oak cabinet that looked to be displaying expensive, hand-painted plates and vases - the pieces shook a bit when her back hit the glass.

A single glass ends up falling off one of the higher shelf’s, shattering behind them, and YN begins to profusely apologizing, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

And Harry’s unconcerned that a five thousand dollar wine glass just shattered as he shushes her quiet, “S’fine. Just want to kiss you,” He mumbles against her lips.

YN presses further into the kiss, her hands moving from his chest up and around his neck as she parts her lips, allowing their tongues to brush as his hands move to her hips - massaging at the plush as his leg sneaks in between hers, making it so she couldn’t clench her thighs together.

“Want to-“ YN gets distracted halfway through her sentence when his hands begin to trail up her sides, up towards her chest but he instead teases his fingers along her rib cage.

“Want to…..?” Harry copies her, he even tastes good like his rich, dry red wine that they had been drinking at dinner.

“Harry,” YN huffs out when he pulls back just an inch, “You know what I mean.”

Harry kisses once more before responding, “Tell me. Do you want me to touch you?”

YN nods eagerly, she wanted so bad to press their hips together to see if he was just as needy as she was but he was purposely not doing that, “Yes.”

“Where do you want my hands or maybe even my mouth?” His voice was unfairly raspy as he teases her with his words, his hands dancing upwards until he finally cups her breasts, “Here? I think you probably have the prettiest nipples I’ve ever seen? You want me to pinch them or suck at them until their puffy and hard?”

Fuck, YN’s never been so turned on in her life.

“I want that,” YN responds tightly as he kneads at her breasts for only a moment before his hands are trailing back down the length of her dress, “Please take me upstairs, Harry.”

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty when you beg, haven’t even told you what I’m going to do to your cunt,” He chuckles as his lips wander from hers to the hinge of her jaw where he drags his teeth across the thin skin, “I’m going to take such good care of you. Get you so ready for me that you’ll be crying on my fingers.”

“You’re all talk at this point,” YN points out but it doesn’t come off as bratty as she’d hope because of how breathless she is by now.

That’s all it takes to have Harry taking YN’s hand and leading her up the winding grand staircase to his bedroom - his room wasn’t overly decorated and was pretty simple with high ceilings and a bed that could easily fit five people.

Harry steps away from YN for a moment, going around the room and turning on the lights which illuminated the room in more of a romantic glow.

As he did, YN’s brain became a bit less hazy and the reality of what was about to happen sunk in, especially when Harry came over and murmurs, “Can I take this off of you?” As his fingers curled into the hem of her dress near her thighs.

And for some reason, all the insecurities and anxiety that she felt earlier about not being able to compare to the other women comes flashing into her mind but she finds herself nodding and saying, “Yes.”

Harry’s pulls the hem off the dress up slowly and in between kisses until YN is raising her arms up so that he can fully take it off of her, just leaving her in her lingerie that she bought off a cheap boutique online - nothing like what those models wore.

“Fuckin’ hell, are you trying to kill me?” Harry groans when he takes in her in just her bra and underwear, his eyes looking all over like they couldn’t decide one place to stay put but he is kissing her shoulder before he’s kneeling down in front of her.

That was sight that YN never wanted to forget, Harry down on his knees in front of her, his lips right at her belly and his strong hands moving behind her to knead at her backside.

She didn’t realize she was trembling until Harry pulls back with a frown.

YN wants to shout at him to come back when he stands back up and puts a foot of distance between them, “Are you sure you want to, pet? Your legs are shaking. I hope I haven’t made you feel pressured in anyway. I apol-“

And she wants to cry because that’s not it at all.

She instantly starts shaking her head in disagreement, interrupting him by putting her hand up, “No…I want to. I really want to and you haven’t pressured me one bit. I’m just…being stupid.”

Harry’s shoulders slump a bit in relief and he steps back over to her, his hands caressing over the caps of her shoulder blades, “If it’s not that than why are you shakin’ like a leaf, sweetheart?”

YN squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep inhale, deciding honesty is probably the best route in this situation, “I know I shouldn’t have but I googled you. And I just saw all these pictures of you leaving clubs and events with these models and…I know I don’t look anything like them and I’m not as sexy as them. I’m scared you’ll be disappointed with the experience.”

Harry’s quiet for a moment as he cradles her head in between his hands, his face is sincere and a bit sad when he tells her, “I’ve never liked someone like I like you. And this may sound crude or forward but I’ve never wanted to lay someone out and make them come as many times as they can like I want to do with you. I’ve never been more attracted to someone in my life.”

“Any person in the past five years that I’ve hooked up with have been nothing more than that. And in the past two years or so, I can't even remember the last time I’ve done that. I know you might not believe me but I haven’t been with anyone in quite some time. It stopped being fun when every single person I got with just wanted to use me for clout, popularity, bragging rights.”

“I believe you,” YN tells him, relief starting flooding into her body because he was so sincere and even though she was surprised that he was that he was so attracted to her, she believed him full heartedly.

“You act like you’re not drop dead gorgeous,”Harry frowns as he brushes a stray hair off of her forehead, “The prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Never been able to look away from you since the first time you bumped into me.”

“I want you to do what you just said you wanted to do,” YN smiles with a shyness that is unusual for her, pressing herself up against him while he was still in his suit and now she was almost bare.

The delighted, hungry expression returns to Harry’s face when he hears that, taunting her as he shrugs out of his suit jacket, “Oh, remind me. What did I say, pet?”

But his lips were running down the column of her neck, his hands brushing the bra straps off her shoulders until they fell, and his lips taking their place.

“You’re such a tease,” YN accuses as she curls her fingers into his hair.

And YN’s never been teased like this, never had such buildup that wasn’t even foreplay yet, every other guy she’s been with - it had all been perfunctory and boring, predictable.

“S’not time to lay you out on m’bed yet,” Harry titters as his fingers come to her back, running along the band of her bra, and ghosting over the clasp, “Have to get to know your body first. Play with every single part of it and make sure you’ll never forget how good I’m going to make you feel.”

YN’s nearly sighs in relief when he finally slips the bra off, moving back to look at her, and she doesn’t even have a moment to feel self-conscious before he’s letting out an obscene moan at the sight, cupping them before moving down to suck one of her nipples into his mouth.

It was like he was starved for touch as he pulled at the nub between his teeth before lapping at it as his hand massaging at the neglected one, his fingers moving up to rub and pinch.

“Oh…fuck,” YN whines as she lets her head fall back, hair cascading down past her shoulders as she holds his head as close as possible to her and it’s never felt this good before when someone touched her chest.

Harry switches between the two, taking his time to languidly run his tongue over both of them after he pushes them together, and sucks at them with tight pressure.

YN’s never known that just her nipples being played with could make her aroused but she knew there had to be a damp spot on the front of her panties as Harry started walking them back towards the bed.

“That feels so good,” YN breathes at when he begins to nip at her buds, causing just the dullest pain pain that quickly melted into more pleasant sensation.

“Sweetheart, this is just the beginning. M’going have you crying with pleasure by the time I’m done with you,” Harry growls as YN’s knees hit the bed and she falls back, letting herself hit the fluffy comforter, “Do you like overstimulation?”

YN’s wriggles further onto the bed, bringing Harry with her by the hand wrapped around the nape of Harry’s neck, and tells him, “I don’t know.”

Harry pulls back from her tits, looking at her with a confused expression, “What do you mean? Do you like when someone makes you come more than once? Like when it almost feels too much.”

Oh god, she didn’t want to admit this.

“I…The guys I’ve been with have never made me come,” YN mumbles as she adverts her gaze up to the ceiling in humiliation for a moment before looking back down at Harry who’s resting his chin on her belly.

Harry’s face goes blank, a bit dumbfounded as he asks, “Are you fucking with me?”

“Stop,” YN giggles as she playfully kicks at him, “It’s embarrassing I know. I just haven’t been with anyone who’s been talented in that department, okay?”

Harry’s hand wraps around her ankle, a cocky smile coating his face, “Oh darlin’, m’going to show you my worth tonight. Now bend your knees for me.”

YN obliges, bending her knee, and watches as Harry kneels at the end of the bed - his button-up shirt was open for the most part, showing off his defined pectoral muscles and the butterfly that was inked below.

He moves his arms underneath her thighs which made it easier to pull her bum to the edge of the bed and he drapes her legs in the crooks of his elbows and her clothed core is right in front of him.

YN lays back and closes her eyes, just allowing herself to feel as she feels her stomach moves up and down quickly as she sucks in air, and she’s shaking now but it’s in pure anticipation for what’s to come.

She’s waiting for Harry to shimmy off her underwear but instead, Harry ducks forward and begins to kiss at her puffy mound and folds over the thin fabric.

YN tries to move her hips to get more but Harry keeps her in place, he moves down in the slightest and pushes in between her folds until he pushes the fabric is against her clit with his tongue.

“H, there,” YN murmurs softly as he begins to stroke at her with his tongue while his hands grip her bum and pull her further into his mouth as he makes the underwear sodden with her slick and his mouth.

It was overwhelmingly good to have the pressure on her bud like she’d never had before, her hands gripping the comforter that she was laying on.

YN lets out the most spoiled whine when Harry pulls his head back and he raises his eyebrow at her, he moves his one arm so that he can reach between them and put his thumb right on her clit where he gives her the most torturous, slow rubs he could.

“You’re a greedy lil’ thing, aren’t you?” Harry hums as his free hand moves up to thumb at her pebbled nipples, “Already getting obsessed with my touch. Just like it should be, never let you leave my bed. You’re a fuckin’ slice of heaven.”

“I’m not greedy,” YN denies weakly as her hips push up to get more friction applied from his thumb to where she’s throbbing for him.

“You’re riding my thumb right now,” Harry chuckles meanly, biting at the skin of her belly hard enough to make her squeak, “Most greedy lil’ thing I’ve ever seen.”

Harry keeps YN in this purgatory of pleasure and pure frustration for a good thirty minutes of switching between his mouth and thumb on her clit through her underwear.

She could feel hot tears prickling at the corner of her eyes because she wanted to come, she wanted him.

YN needed Harry and it seemed like she might die if she doesn’t in this moment even if it’s dramatic - she’s never craved anything like she’s craving his touch.

Harry catches it as soon as the first tear dribbles down her cheek, “Am I making you desperate, baby? M’not trying to be cruel. I’m just trying to prove to you that you should keep me around, y’know?”

What is he even talking about?

She’s definitely keeping him.

And she tells him so.

“Wh-why do you have to prove it? I’m keeping you, you’re mine,” YN gasps as he presses on her button just a little bit harder than before.

Harry preens at her words, “Say it again and I’ll make you come. Say it loud for me, pet.”

“You’re mine, Harry,” YN tells him again, voice louder and more confident, “You’re mine, please. Please need it.”

“Give you anything,” He murmurs, pleased as can be as he moves to the band of her panties and pulls them down her thighs until she’s bare.

He’s then helping her move up and to the center of the bed, splayed out with love bites all over her chest and belly, the sheen of his spit-slick kisses reflecting in the dim light.

Harry fucking finally relents when he burrows down between her thighs after shucking off his dress shirt and he uses two fingers to split her open to reveal what her puffy folds had been hiding.

“You’re going to make me come without even touching me,” Harry abdomishes as he stares at her, “How do you have the prettiest face, nipples, and cunt? It doesn’t make any sense, darling.”

YN felt like she was a rubber band about to snap, she couldn’t take anymore and she just needed him to do something because her orgasm has been building for the last half-hour.

“Please,” YN whispers quietly, it was pathetic and desperate but she let out a shutter from her sniffles - she’s never felt this good.

Harry pushes himself up to kiss her lips once before settling back down where he splits her folds open and gives her a firm, harsh lick from her core to clit.

His mouth stays there, pulling her clit between his lips and massaging it with his tongue while two of his thick fingers danced around her entrance before slowly tucking them up inside and curling forward.

YN came instantly, she swore she blacked out for a moment and saw stars but also felt a rush of fluid that she couldn’t figure out what is was until she finally comes back down to earth.

When YN sits up, she notices a small dark part of the comforter that was wet along with Harry’s face shining with slick.

“Oh my god,” YN gasps in horror as she realizes she not only just had her first orgasm from someone else but squirted on top of that.

Harry blinks up at her, he was just as surprised as he brought his hand back up where it was wet with her, “I’m not joking when I say that’s the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

And just like that, the humiliation is gone from her body and she’s giggling because he just looks so thrilled with himself.

She squeals excitedly when he pushes her back down and continues on, burying his face back between her legs.

When he licks at her sensitive, throbbing clit again - her legs kick out in reaction as pinpricks of overstimulation try to push Harry off.

But YN’s hand is wrapping up in his hair and keeping him down there.

She never had more than one orgasm at time, didn’t really know that she could, and she was shocked when she felt her next one building within a minute or two.

“Harry, I’m close again,” YN warns as her thighs begin to shake, she so badly wanted to close them around Harry’s head but his broad shoulders are prohibiting her from doing that.

“Come on, sweet girl,” Harry encourages in between suckles and laps, moving up to nip at the hood of clit to give her a spike of dull pain before soothing it with his tongue, “Show me how good you can be.”

Oh, she does.

YN’s back arches and she doesn’t care about being embarrassed anymore when she lets out a long, high-pitched whine, a sound she’s never made before as her chest heaves when her second orgasm comes barreling over her.

“Baby, s’good,” YN mewls, uncaring when the pet name slips even though Harry’s been using them constantly, and when she’s starting to come down from the second one, she gently leads Harry by the hair until he’s crawling up over her and their lips are meeting again.

YN’s not worried about being shy anymore, not after Harry just made her come like that, and so when she’s running her hand down his chest, tracing over the muscles of his stomach, she doesn’t stop until she’s palming him in his dress pants.

“Shit,” He gruffs in surprise, breaking their kiss for a moment, and moaning when she traces the outline of his cock where it’s ready to be freed from his confines.

YN manages to wriggle until Harry gets the picture and rolls off of her, onto his back where now he’s splayed out with his stomach sucking in, his ribs dancing against his skin on every breath in.

He’s body was incredible, the definition of his muscles from his pecs to his abdominals, all the way down to where there’s a sharp cut leading into the dress pants.

She had to get her mouth on him and had to give him a bit of the same treatment he gave her, she figured out quickly that he loved being bit and given lovebites.

YN works her way from his neck down his chest, stopping to give attention to his nipples which he was surprisingly reactive to - bucking his hips up when she dragged her teeth along them.

When she finally gets to the fine dusting of hair leading into his pants, YN unbuttons and zips them before beginning to tug them down his narrow hip.

At first, she was going to tease him but her eagerness to see him and so she’s peeling down his briefs too until he’s bare to her too - god, he was just as perfect here as well which shouldn’t be a surprise.

His cock was far bigger than anyone man she had even been with, by far, but it wasn’t initimating to her because she so desperately wanted it inside her.

It was thick and she never thought she’d describe a dick as pretty but it was, the pink tip was wet and his skins was smooth velvet as she ran her hand down the length of it.

There was a reason he had big dick energy.

And YN puffs out a breath of frustration when Harry pulls her back up right before she puts her mouth on him, he chuckles at her furrowed brow like a disgruntled puppy.

“Stop pouting,” Harry smooths out the wrinkle between her eyebrows, “I’m so hard for you, pet. I’ll come if you tease me and I want to get in you. I want to show you how good I can be for you.”

YN doesn’t regret it when she leans down and bits his shoulder, making him hiss before she’s grumps, “You teased me for nearly an hour and I can’t even touch you. S’not fair.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Harry pouts out his bottom lip condescendingly, “I promise there will be many more times to come where I’ll let you do whatever you want to me.”

“You better keep that promise,” YN warns but she’s about as intimidating as a baby deer.

Harry lets out a throaty laugh as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “It’s not a hardship for me to promise you that you can have my cock whenever you want.”

He was filthy and YN was obsessed with it.

“Now need you to shush up,” Harry rumbles as he steadies YN where she’s sat across his thighs and sits up, scooting backwards until his back is against the headboard, “Gonna have you sit that pretty pussy on me. Gonna let you go as slow or fast as you want. Okay, baby?”

YN nods with a bit of nerves back in her as she straightens up and kneels further up until he’s bumping against her folds, she goes to reach to position him but Harry knocks her hand out of the way.

Harry presses forward until the plum tip of him parts her lips, finding her swollen clit and tapping himself against her which sends voltage shocks through her spine.

He paints himself down to her core, where he barely pushes in, YN’s stomach tense in anticipation before he’s moving back up to rub himself against her nerves.

She was so wet that there was soft noise as he teased, “Baby, do you hear how wet you are for me? Can’t believe how good you feel. Do you always get like this?”

YN shakes her head, swallowing dryly before telling him, “Never really got wet like this before. I, er, usually wasn’t enough other times and so they had to use lube.”

Harry’s expression is downright offended, “Nobody ever warmed you up, huh? Sounds like you’ve been with a bunch of chauvinistic pigs. I’ll always have you dripping down your thighs, pet.”

And she believes him.

YN’s still in a dazed state of his teasing when he doesn’t just push in a little but starts helping her sit down on him to finally get inside of her and god, she feels so full.

There’s no pain or stretch like she’s felt before with guys who were less endowed then him but he had gotten her so turned on and ready that there wasn’t anything but pure pleasure as he bottomed out .

He’s already nudging against an a livewired spot inside of her that she never felt before but knew was her g-spot, and his was just pressing on it by just being inside her.

“O-oh,” YN lets out a wanton moan as she begins grinding her hips, on every swivel her clit was bumping against the neatly trimmed hair on his pubic bone and the spot inside her being triggered by how thick and hard he was.

“That’s it, baby,” Harry sighs happily and he’s looking up at her with such awe before he’s pushing at the small of her back to get her upper body closer to his.

As she chases her own release, he’s kissing all over her, and it intimate as she’s ever been with someone as Harry just encourages her to make herself feel good with his body.

His lips are on her sternum, her belly, her shoulder, her face.

There was something about the way he kissed over her cheeks and jaw as she moans in pure ecstasy that made it romantic and made her feel closeness to her partner that she’d never felt before.

The soft whispers of encouragement against her temple as she got closer and closer to the edge, her thigh muscles were tired, “Please, H. Need you to make me feel good, please.”

And like that, Harry’s flipping them until YN’s splayed on her back once again, and he’s over top of her, his cross necklace tickling at her chest when props himself up on his elbows, either side of her head, and grinds his hips back into her.

YN can’t help but wrap her legs around Harry’s waist as he begins a steady rhythm of thrusts, leaning down to connect their lips together but YN can’t focus on it as she moans into his mouth.

“I need you to come f’me,” Harry pants lightly between pecks, his thrusts were becoming harder and he wasn’t pulling back as fast, “You’ve got me close, darling. Never had anyone feel so good on my cock.”

Harry doesn’t wait though, he’s going down on one arm to use his other to snake between their bodies to rub tight, purposeful circles on her bud until YN feels the band of tension snap and she’s digging her nails into his back as she comes for the third time.

And as soon as she does, Harry’s thrusting in twice more before stilling and letting out the sexiest, most filthy moan as he drops his head and let’s go, his moans were so low that YN didn’t even think his voice could get that deep and gravely like he’d been smoking.

YN’s become boneless, melting into the comfortable mattress, as she keeps her eyes shut - peaceful to feel the pinpricks of pain from overstimulation and how achey her thighs were from not usually using those muscles as much as she did tonight.

“Open your eyes f’me,” Harry murmurs softly after a moment, his thumb coming to sweep the drying tears off her cheeks and when YN whines in protest, he coos, “Just for a tick, darling. Look at me.”

YN blinks her eyes open, she’s exhausted and spent, and doesn’t feel like she could move if someone offered her a million dollars to do so as she meets Harry’s warm green eyes.

“I need to get you showered. M’not going to let you fall asleep all sticky and sweaty,” Harry titters as he begins to get off the bed, taking YN with him despite her weak whines of protest.

He coerces into his shower and YN was so tired that she couldn’t even appreciate that the shower head was on the ceiling and the water fell down like a rainforest storm.

YN stays leaned up against Harry, her head resting on his chest as he goes about lathering and massaging the shampoo into her hair with strong, magic fingers.

“Thank you,” YN mumbles after he washes out all the suds and moves onto scrubbing down her body, “I can clean myself.”

Harry stops where the washcloth is on her shoulder, “Do you not want me to do it?”

YN blinks rapidly again, coming back into focus, she dind’t want to offend him and she did want him too, “I do, it’s nice. I love it actually, I just don’t want you to feel like you have to do all of this because we had sex.”

Harry frowns at her, “Have you never heard of aftercare?”

“I have I just thought that was for like crazy bondage or something.”

He chuckles with a shake of his head, “It is definitely important for people to do that but it’s also important anytime there’s intense sex. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated before we just slept together. I want to continue to take care of you, not just in the way of sex but because you’re important to me.”

“Do you do this with every girl?” YN asks out loud and maybe it wasn’t an appropriate question but she wasn’t going to judge if he said ‘yes’, it was pure curiosity.

Harry eyes dart to the side, his expression turning into a bit of guilt like he’s remembering other times, “No. I’ve never been great about it and some of the times I probably should have but just left. I…I can’t tell you enough how different you are than the rest.”

YN’s giggles when Harry’s resumes washing down her body, making her stomach as he wipes her underarms, “It was the best sex I’ve ever had. I look forward to having a lot more of it with you.”

He perks up with a cute hopeful expression, “Yeah? I…Do you think you would want to be exclusive with me?”

“As in we just date each other?” YN has to tease him a bit because of how he did the same to her earlier in the night.

Harry looks embarassed, “I wasn’t trying to -. If you don’t wan-“

“I’m just fucking with you. A little payback for earlier,” YN chuckles but Harry nips at her jaw meanly which makes her squeak, “Of course, I want that with you.”

“I promise I’ll be so good to you in every way,” Harry tells her sincerely as he washes the soapy residue from her body, “All make sure you’re taken care of. You can look forward much more sex in the future.”

❤️nine years later ❤️

“M’heart, what are you doin-“ Harry tries to question but he’s cut off by a harsh kiss as he’s being pushed backwards into a empty bathroom of a fancy museum where an event was being held in his honor.

YN’s breaks the kiss for only a moment to lock the door before her hands are going to his belt to start quickly undoing it as her lips nip and sucks at his jaw, leaving lipstick prints in their wake.

“What’s gotten into you?” Harry hums as he helps her unbutton his trousers, he was hard from the moment he realized he was being dragged into the loo for a quickie and so when she untucks his dress shirt his pants, he‘s plump and ready for her.

“The speech,” Is all YN utters before she has his briefs down to mid-thigh and she’s kneeling down in front of him, carefully in her designer dress to grip him firmly at the base and not hesitate to take him all the way down which she’s adores the surprised moan that comes from his chest without his permission.

The speech.

Harry had just been honored for the fifth year in the row with The United Kingdom’s Humanitarian of the Year Award because he had donated upwards a billion dollars to different charities and organizations, as well as having three successful charities of his own - one being in honor of Willow and her adoption.

He had gotten up on stage and began with the basic speech of what it means to donate and support causes all over the world, how the success of his business had led him to be this charitable, and how he encourages other billionaires to follow in his footsteps.

Then Harry went on to get a bit emotional when he thanks his wife and all three of his babies for making him a more charitable person, how he wouldn’t be anywhere without the love and support of YN, what a wonderful wife and mother she is, and how much he loves his three daughters.

Seeing Harry be such an amazing husband and father never failed to get YN wet for him.

It never went away after the first time that they shared a bed, that craving for Harry that made her stomach begin to churn with fiery arousal and lust for him.

She never failed to have her clenching her thighs together when Harry teased her, even just the little bit, and yes, it’s because they’re still wildly attracted to each other.

But she also thinks that it’s because they are so fucking in love with each other and she swears her undying love for him grows more everyday even if she thought that she couldn’t love him more.

And she knows Harry feels the same way.

From their first time, Harry’s promise had always stood, he never ever faltered to take care of her ever - he was always by her side during the good and bad times, he loved her so deeply that it couldn’t be put in to words.

Harry always made her feel like enough, she never worried about leggy models or not fitting the image that most expected because Harry never gave her a moment to doubt it.

After nine years, he was still trying to get in her pants anytime she would let him - he could be dominant and assertive which turned her on to no end but she also fucking loved it when he was pliant and let her boss him around.

“The speech, huh?” Harry repeats but he nearly chokes on the last syllable when her nose brushes into the hair of his pubic bone before she’s pulling back to take a deep breath, “Darling, your mouth is so pretty around my cock.”

YN is truly Harry’s match. Harry loves to tease. It never stopped after the first date, he loved to build anticipation by edging, and YN realized it was just as much fun to return the favor.

They really don’t have time for it right now because Harry’s the man of the night and all eyes are on him but right now, he’s nowhere to be found after his thank you speech.

She’s has a firm grip on his base as she suckles at tip, doe eyes blinking up at him as she seems in no rush to move things along, pulling back to run her tongue on the underside of him.

“Sweetheart, we don’t have time for this,” Harry warns but he’s struggling to keep his eyes open because even just the small kitten licks feel like heaven and just to keep him on his toes, she’s occasionally taking him all the way down, “Can drool over my cock when we get home. We have the house to ourselves tonight.”

And when YN ignores him, Harry knows what she wants, and it makes a sharp thrill pump through his veins, he reaches down and knots his hand in her hair and tugs, “I said enough. Are you that cock hungry?”

YN begins to pick up her pace which is a telltale sign that the dirty talk is working, and that she doesn’t want him to stop, so he doesn’t, adding in that same raspy tone, “You are so fuckin’ spoiled. Can’t stand anyone else given me attention, got to pull me into a bathroom and get me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t say anything about you fucking me,” YN bites back because now she’s in full brat mode but she’s still standing back up when Harry gives her hair another tug.

“No? So if I put my hand under your dress you won’t be dripping down your thighs?” Harry coos but his hand is already hiking up the skirt of her dress and the moment his fingers brush over the front of her mound, he can feel how damp she is, “S’cute that after all this time you get soaked for me like the first time I fucked you.”

YN mewls when he tugs her panties to the side to tuck two fingers up, Harry’s trying to get her to beg, he loved turning the tables when she came in bossy but left a crybaby.

He pets right at her spot and he can feel her tense, a telltale sign that she was going to come soon, and so he pulls out his fingers to suck them in between his own lips, “I wish I had enough time to lick in to you. I guess you’ll just have to make do with my cock.”

“Come on, now please, baby,” YN grumbles as he lifts her up to put her bum on the sink counter, pushing the dress up around her hips, and pinning the underwear to the side.

“Tell me you love me and I’ll fuck you, m’heart,” Harry hums as he pumps himself, he was so ready for her, and he rests the tip right at where she’s hot for him - his hips twitched in anticipation.

“I love you so much,” YN whines but it’s sincere, leaning up to kiss him before adding, “The best husband and father of my babies I could ask for. I just want you, H. Want you all the time.”

Harry melts a little at her sweet words, the dominance in his voice fading as he pushes in, moving to cup her jaw, and he brushes his nose against hers - far too intimate for this setting.

“I couldn’t love anymore than I love you,” He whispers against her lips, “I fuckin’ live for you. Everyday I wake up and wonder what the fuck I did to deserve you. I want you now and for forever, you’re mine, the love of my life.”

And YN thinks back to when she was nervous, shaking like a leaf in front of the same man because she was so intimidated by him - she’s now married to him and has three children with, how she didn’t think she was worthy.

To know having that same man smattering kisses over her cheeks and nose to make her giggle while he cleans her up in a tiny bathroom after having a quickie that they really shouldn’t have because he’s the man of the night.

She knew she picked right.

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ladyelainehilfur · 11 months

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Literally insane to me how small the general webtoon fandom is outside of the webtoon app itself (and maybe reddit??)

I've talked to multiple people irl who LOVE reading webtoon, but the online community is borderline threadbare ! Most people on Tumblr have no IDEA who our blorbos are! I've checked tags for some fairly popular webtoon and it was like visiting that Tatooine town in the Mandalorian where there are 5 citizens total, but only if you also count the Mayor, the sheriff, and the deputy.

Lore Olympus is the most popular webtoon and has under 2,000 fics on AO3. Lookism has roughly 1,000. Unordinary, THEE legacy webtoon, only has 600, and it's been running for almost 7 years now. It has nearly 6M subscribers and still gets 50K+ likes each week. It's not dead by any means.

I guess it doesn't help that each webtoon is its own micro ecosystem and once a webtoon ends, that ecosystem typically fades with it. But webtoons can go on runs longer than most shows on streaming services, and those fandoms burn hot and bright even if only for the first month of a new season drop.

By comparison, webtoon fans are largely casual about their enthusiasm, even if they're highly invested in the story or characters. From my experience, only the most passionate try to connect with other fans online. But when you're passionate about one webtoon, I suppose it's hard to show constant excitement about the 20+ other stories one might keep up with. Still, between the 85 million monthly readers, you'd think each major webtoon would at least have a dedicated fan base (meaning people who regularly post theories, thoughts, fics, and fanart) of mere thousands outside of the app.

One exception for this is that Batman webtoon? It actually trends on Tumblr every now and again. But it doesn't count, because Batman has a built in fandom who'll eat up and yell in the streets about any content where he's a decent dad.

People who read romance webtoon all tend to read the same comics, and actively understand the references to other popular romance comics (Trashta, Team Seojun, SLS), so you'd think there'd be a greater sense of unity. More people actively searching out others to discuss with and posting their thoughts online and not just in that webtoon's comment section.

I mean, C'MON girls!!! Millions of people log into that app like everyday!!! WHERE is the community?? WHERE is the fanart?? WHERE is the fanfic?? WHY does Odd Girl Out only have 7 fanfics?? WHY are there like 2 people on Twitter posting about Weak Hero?? Head in hands fr

#weak hero #odd girl out #true beauty #Lookism #mercenary enrollment #unordinary #surviving romance #marry my husband #cursed princess club #the remarried empress #jackson's diary #your throne #Lumine #after school lessons for unripe apples #Morgana and Oz #lore Olympus #down to earth #Eleceed #webtoon

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f6bron · 6 months

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sequoia.

pairing : iso x gn!reader

notes : mutual pining ? i’ll let the audience decide , might be ooc since i wrote this based on all of his available voicelines so far ( . — . )

The echoing clang of bullets hitting metal targets reverberated through the shooting range as you took aim alongside Iso, the new recruit to the Valorant Protocol. You’d been itching to get to know him better, and what better way to break the ice then some target practice?

“Clean shot! I should let Chamber know he has a rival now.”

Iso shrugged and chuckled, as an acknowledgement to your compliment.

“So, Iso… I heard you isolate your enemy into that domain of yours? Interesting…” you remarked, keeping your eyes trained on the target as you shot a bullet straight to the head.

Iso nodded shyly, his fingers still gripping the handle of his pistol.

“Y-yeah… Just my way to secure a 1v1 duel…”

Oh, what the hell am I saying, Iso thought, mentally facepalming at his awkward response. He felt silly for acting awkward in front of you. To be honest, he finds you really, really beautiful. Maybe that’s the reason.

But to his surprise, you merely gave him a soft smile.

“That is sooo freaking cool ~! Can you bring me there someday?” you asked, your tone playful and light.

Iso was surprised, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Why would I bring you there? I don’t think having a gun duel with an ally there is a good idea–”

You giggled, which interrupted his words. “Not in a gun duel, silly. I just wanna know what it looks like in the dimension.”

Warmth crept onto Iso’s face, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment at having misunderstood your context. “O-oh… Yeah, sure. I hang out a lot there even though there’s nothing much… Mostly when I need alone time to read my books or… listen to music.”

“And, having company once in a while would be nice.” He smiled, his eyes glanced at you.

“Mhmm, then I’ll be waiting ~” you replied, your curiosity piqued. You adjusted your stance, firing a few more rounds with precise accuracy.

“Oh ! Talking about music,” you continued, gesturing to the earbuds that Iso always had whenever you saw him. “I always see you got your earbuds on all the time. I assume you’re a music enthusiast, yes?”

Iso nodded, his fingers fumbling with the gun’s magazine as he exchanged it. “It helps me to stay relaxed and focused. Music has this way of grounding me, you know?”

You smiled, appreciating his honesty. “That makes sense. What kind of music do you listen to then?”

As Iso put his pistol down, he began to list off his favourite genres and artists. You noticed the way his purple-coloured eyes lightened up. You were surprised by the variety of his tastes, from classical compositions to high-energy EDM tracks. Your conversation flowed seamlessly, as Iso continued geeking over his profound hyperfixation.

“So, do you have a favourite song?” you asked, genuinely interested.

Iso took a moment to think before answering. He has so many favourites, heck, he could create millions of playlist when he thought of it. Then, a song came to his mind, “There’s this one song that I find myself going back to quite often. It’s called ‘Helena’ by My Chemical Romance.

The name caught your attention, “Wait ! I know that song ! What’s the worst that I can say ~”

Iso chuckled, he continued singing along, “Things are better if I stay ~”

“So long and goodnight, so long and goodnight.”

Both of you started giggling, which lightened up the mood surrounding the both of you.

Iso started to fiddle with his gloved fingers, his expression softening. “To me, that song carries a powerful and cathartic expression of one’s emotions surrounding the loss of a loved one, so it has become one of my favourites.”

You were touched by his description and decided to make a mental note to listen to the song again later. As you both finished up with the training at the shooting range, you couldn’t help but feel a connection forming between you and Iso. He’s slowly getting along with you, no longer the quiet and reserved recruit.

Someone you could genuinely relate to.

As the both of you left the shooting range, the two of you talked and laughed, not just about combat training but about music, books and everything in between. His giggles caught your attention, the way he would bring up his hand to stifle his laughs.

Goddamn, he’s cute.

You didn’t expect the training you had with him could be the perfect time to bring you both closer. You couldn’t wait to explore Iso’s unique dimension with him, discovering not just his hidden talents but the beauty of the world he had specifically created for himself.

“So, about that dimension visit,” you teased, “When can we make that happen?”

Iso grinned, the embarrassment from earlier dissipating. “Whenever you’re ready. I’d be happy to show you around the place.”

“Can we make that a promise?”

“Yeah, promise.”

(A/N): my love for iso is growing… he’s so cutie patootie… do u get me…

masterlist.

#f6bron #ITS SO ISOVERRRRR #valorant iso #valorant iso x reader #iso x reader #valorant imagines #li zhao yu #iso x y/n #iso x you #valorant fanfiction #iso headcanons #valorant x reader

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freelancearsonist · 20 days

Text

so scarlet, it was...

➔ post-outbreak Joel Miller x afab!Reader - series masterlist

➔ 1.3k words

➔ “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

➔ Rated MA for dark fic kinda, a/b/o themes (alpha joel, omega reader), established... situationship? i guess, pregnancy/contemplation of termination, contemplation of self harm, reader is not in a good headspace. one instance of vomiting, joel is not very nice, this fic in general is not very nice. takes place three years post outbreak. [please let me know if i missed any warnings so i can add them in :)]

➔ thank you so much to my darling @bitchwitch1981 for the prompt, i'm so sorry this is probably very much not what you wanted 🤣 extra special thank you to @perotovar for making this wonderful joel gif for me, if ur reading this ily <3

You’ve never actually used one of these things before. You’ve only read about them in books or seen them in movies from years ago, and they’ve only ever been an object of abject horror.

You understand why now, looking down at those two little lines on the stick cradled in your hand. You’ve never been quite so terrified in your life.

You never should’ve pocketed this test when you found it in that miraculously untouched drug store. You could’ve stayed blissfully unaware. Better yet, you should’ve been more careful. Three years of living like this has been more than enough to make you firm in your decision to never bring life into this broken world. This isn’t a place for a child, this is barely even a place for you. Every day is a fight, every waking moment is a nightmare. But you’ve been so careless with him and now it’s all crashing down, this blissful bubble where you can pretend that everything might be okay because you have the pack and, more importantly, him.

You won’t have him for much longer when he finds out about this.

You wonder what it’ll take to right this wrong before he finds out about it. It must be pretty early, so maybe it won’t take much to reverse it. Maybe all you’ll have to do is bump into something just right, or trip over the right log.

The thought makes you sick–more stomach bile than anything else coming up because you’ve hardly had more to eat than stale beef jerky and some precarious berries in the past few days. Resources have been so slim; another reason this can’t be happening. You hardly have enough to tide you over, much less a child. And it’ll be even worse once the pack abandons you.

You bury yourself into the haphazard nest of blankets and his worn clothes, letting the heavy, musky scent of him soothe your wracking sobs.

Maybe you should just accept your fate now, sacrifice yourself for the good of the pack. Everyone is going to die eventually, after all–sooner rather than later in this world. You’ve only been postponing the inevitable. They never have to know why you do it, and it’ll be one less mouth to feed. Two, technically, but they’ll never have to know that. He won’t even really miss you, it’ll be one less burden on his hands. On all of their hands.

You don’t hear them return early from scavenging–maybe because the volume of your own sobs drowns out any other noise. Or maybe because he can sense something is wrong as he enters the run-down little shack you’ve been holed up in for the past few weeks, and he softens his approach because of it.

Joel has never been quite as tender as he is when he takes you into his arms, pulling your face out of the pile of fabric to wipe at your tear-streaked cheeks.

“My omega, shhhh, I’m here. It’s okay,” he murmurs, wrapping you into his big, strong, safe arms. He doesn’t know. Maybe he thinks you had a nightmare, or you just missed him, or a million other things except the truth. But he doesn’t know, and you know he doesn’t know because you feel the moment he connects the dots. His eyes drop to the little white stick clutched tightly in your fist and his entire body stiffens like a board. Suddenly there’s no more warmth or comfort to his touch, nothing soothing about the pheromones drifting from him. He pulls away like you’re infected, and maybe you are. Maybe the thing that’s taken root in you is worse than cordyceps could ever hope to be.

You’ve never been terrified of him before. Joel is dark and brooding and imposing, but he’s only ever fought to protect you. His omega, who wormed their way under his skin despite him fighting it every step of the way. His omega, who’s been the only source of anything remotely close to comfort he’s had since outbreak day. His omega, who’s given him purpose in this dark world.

His omega, who’s betrayed him in such an unforgivable way.

“What the fuck.” There’s nothing but venom in his tone–he looks at you with pure disgust and your resolve crumbles.

Maybe there was a little, tiny, miniscule part of you that hoped it would be different. That he would be excited to be a father, or at least be understanding. But that hope dies so suddenly when you look up into his scowling face. He towers over you, dark eyes flashing with anger, and for the first time since you met him two long years ago you’re scared.

“You were supposed to be careful.” His voice rises further and further with each syllable, as if this isn’t partially his fault too. As if he wasn’t the one in such an uncontrollable rut last month that he kept you in bed all week, losing the willpower required to pull out with each powerful thrust of his hips. As if it isn’t his seed blooming in your womb as you speak.

“What do we do now, huh?” He growls, eyes darkening, fists clenching at his sides. “I’ve fucking marked you, I can’t turn you loose! And we barely make it by as we are! How the fuck are we supposed to handle this?”

He rants for what seems like hours and you flinch with every booming word, curling tighter around yourself in a desperate attempt to simply disappear; to not have to deal with this any more because your heart shatters with each irreversible word he throws at you. You shrink and shrink and shrink in hopes of vanishing because this is undoable. No matter what happens, nothing will ever go back to the way it was and that’s the knowledge that crushes you completely.

Your voice is so small when he finally quiets enough for you to speak. “Go ahead, yell your fucking head off. That’ll make everything okay, won’t it?”

Joel stops in his tracks, white knuckles unclenching for the first time in minutes. He sees the fear and regret in your eyes, and he almost lets it soften him. He loathes himself for this look on your face–for making you scared of him.

His omega. So small and fragile, curled in a pile of his clothes because his scent brings you comfort. He’s dedicated two years of his time and effort to keeping you safe and comfortable, if not happy. He’s supposed to protect you, not hurt you. He’s supposed to give you children and raise them with you, be a family with you. That’s what being your alpha means, and he has so sorely failed you.

But he knows he can never do that again. That’s never what this was supposed to be. He didn’t mark you out of anything but necessity–if he had let your uncontrolled scent waft every time you went into heat, every alpha in the country would be targeting your little pack of four. You’re his omega out of biological necessity–a warm hole to fill when his rut threatens to tear already strenuous ties with his brother and Tess. That’s what he tells himself because the alternative is so startlingly incomprehensible that he won’t allow himself to even consider the fact that he might care about you; that the urge to care for you and protect you is more than primal, biological instinct; that you mean more to him than anyone ever has.

Not just his omega now, but his mate. His unborn child is growing and growing and growing with each passing second inside your womb and he’s powerless to stop it.

“We’re thirty-seven miles from the Boston QZ,” he growls from somewhere deep in his chest. “We leave at first light.”

You don’t get a chance to argue or plead your case before the door slams shut behind him.

➔ beta: @beskarandblasters and @fhatbhabie

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics

➔ Want to support me? Please reblog this fic! It helps boost it in the algorithm and gives it more circulation no matter what your follower count is :) any feedback or comment is always greatly appreciated!!

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #alpha!joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #the last of us #tlou #joel tlou #cece writes #series: maroon

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artbyblastweave · 8 months

Note

I've never made any connections between Worm and the Captain America mythos before. Spill some ink?

Okay, so from a purely aesthetic perspective, the gimme is Miss Militia. She's the most obvious "Captain Patriotic" in the roster, she has the power of GUN, she's the only one who actively buys into the mythology of America specifically. She's a Kurdish woman occupying an aesthetic niche generally held by a rugged squinty white guy. She's an output of the melting pot narrative. She's sort of a rendering of what a grounded superhero who somehow became very aesthetically into America might look like. Not in the craven marketing-driven way of Homelander or Comedian, not in the jingoistic maniac way of USAgent or Peacemaker. She buys it in the broadly left-liberal (USamerican connotation of that term) safe, friendly, reclamative way. Why, what a great rehabilitation of the archetype!

She's also deeply, deeply afraid of rocking the boat. She's got a deepseated childhood trauma related to the bad things that happen when she puts herself in a leadership role. She goes along to get along. When she's proactive, it's usually to point a gun at Tattletale to stop her from upsetting the status quo. She sits through a lot of situations where Steve Rogers, as commonly modeled, would probably plant himself like a tree by the river of truth and go, "Hey, this is fucked up." She more or less capitulates to Undersider domination of the city, in a way that predisposes us to think of her as a voice of reason after all these total nuts that Skitter's been up against- but would Taylor "to relinquish control is a form of ego death" Hebert really be willing to leave someone in charge of the local Protectorate branch who she thought couldn't be corralled? She looks like a beacon, but doesn't- indeed, probably can't- ever truly behave like one. I mean, you can debate the on-the-spot morality of any given one of her judgement calls, that's actually one of the less exhausting Worm Morality Debates to have- but in aggregate, a person in American flag garb who actually meaningfully criticizes the paramilitary organization they're part of is not gonna survive long in that role!

So again, she's the gimme from an aesthetic standpoint. But what I don't really see a lot of discussion of is how Cauldron plays into the riff.

Captain America is institutional, but in a comically morally uncomplicated way. The serum was originally mana from heaven, granted to a living saint, conveniently divorced from any nitty-gritty sausage-making process and even-more conveniently divorced from the horrible consequences of giving the, uh, the U.S government a replicable super soldier process. And in fairness to Captain America, this is 100 percent something the overall mythos eventually patched to my satisfaction; the sausage-making process eventually revealed as prototypical government fuckery driven by human experimentation on black servicemen, the overall Marvel Setting littered with failed attempts by the U.S. Government to recreate that golden goose so they can have their fun new jackboots. (In Ultimate Marvel, this is how almost all contemporary superhumans were created, and this is a state of affairs with a body count in the millions or billions.)

Cauldron draws you in with the same noble rhetoric about greater goods, the same one-off proprietary irreplicable formula- but you don't get the luxury afterwards of representing nothing but the dream. You aren't partnering up with a plucky crank scientist with a heart of gold. You're selling your soul to an organization with an agenda. The narrative makes no bones about the fact that everything you do is fundamentally tainted by the fact you opted into an end product created through torture, kidnapping and human experimentation. You don't get to pull a Kamen Rider by going rogue or opting out or making good use of the fruit of the poisoned tree; you are owned, and everything you do has this Damocles sword hanging over your head- when are the people who bankrolled this going to come to collect?

So that's the question of "who would willingly dress like that" covered, and the question of who creates a serum like that. What about the question of who takes a serum like that? I'd argue that Eidolon is the examination of that. Pre-Cauldron David reads to me like pre-serum Steve Rogers viewed through a significantly bleaker lens. They're both sickly kids desperate to serve, rocketed to the pinnacle of human capability by an experimental procedure. But for Steve Rogers, the crisis was that he had a specific vision of the world and was frustrated by his inability to carry it out. Before the serum he picked fights over what was right and wrong and got his ass handed to him; afterwards he picked those same fights and just started winning instead. The serum neatly solved a problem he had, and to the extent that his mindset is influenced by his pre-serum experiences, it's generally constructive; a desire to protect the weak, help the helpless, an appreciation for people who stand up for what's right even when they're clearly gonna get pancaked for their trouble. So ultimately there's no dark side, downside, or underlying neurosis ascribed to his initial impulse to take that serum.

But with David, it's not a tragic case of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He isn't a preternaturally-noble soul, out to represent the best elements of the American ideal- he kind of represents the inverse, a guy who's been failed at every level while utterly convinced that he's the problem. He's actively suicidal because he's a wheelchair-bound epileptic in an economically-depressed socially-backwards rural town in the 1980s, and he's spent his 18 years of life internalizing the idea that he's worse than useless unless he can somehow find a way provide value to something larger than himself. Doctor Mother finds him in the aftermath of a suicide attempt spurred by his rejection from the army- and he didn't even want to join the army specifically, necessarily, he just needed his situation to be literally anything else, and he took what he thought he could get. And then he finds himself in a position to become a superhero, so he does that, molds himself into that, subordinates himself to that, builds his entire sense of self and values around the value he can provide in that role. No grand design or sacred principles carried over through the metamorphosis. Just relief at finally, finally having something that looks like an answer to the question of what he's supposed to do.

And you know, you know that if Steve Rogers was facing down the barrel of being depowered, he'd smile and nod, he'd Cincinnatus that shit. It's happened before. But for David, the emotional trauma and self-worth issues that caused him to roll the dice on a Steve-Rogers treatment never really went away. When would it? He's been Providing Value as a ten-ton Hammer Against Evil for thirty years. No family, no social life. Certainly, no incentive on his handler's part to lance his Atlas complex. So he barrels towards atrocity in the name of remaining useful. Admittedly, this is where the comparison breaks down in a significant way; Captain America is much more of a symbol than he is an irreplicable powerhouse, so it's not catastrophic if he's taken off the board. Eidolon is so unbelievably powerful that his myopia and self-centeredness actually do align with a real problem everyone else is gonna have if he loses his powers. But in terms of the starting points- I think that Steve Rogers embodies the myth about why you'd want to join the army that badly. Eidolon is, I think, much more closely modelling why you'd actually want to join the army that badly.

#apologies for the delay in responding #worm #wildbow #parahumans #worm meta #eidolon #thoughts #meta #miss militia

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myheadhurtscutely · 3 months

Note

i'm craving some fluff with sam monroe rn. sharing my thoughts and curious for yours?? just rambling lol ❤️❤️❤️

listening to music in sam's room with him, maybe getting ready for something? a concert? and fixing his makeup, his hands unable to leave your hips as you work. ofc his eyes are glued to your lips (and occasionally drift down to your tits) and there's just a soft, unspoken connection between you two. i'm imagining he listens to The Cure (idk if it's really his type of music i'm not all into that culture ngl) and it's just a gentle scene. ofc later on after the concert is over (or whatever event) he can't help but wanna make out with you, maybe you're sitting on his lap in his car. maybe there's a bit of tension- but you two make out until the sun comes up, and return to your respective houses with the both of your makeup messed up. i also feel like he's the type to either be too nervous to hold onto you in public when he's sober, but if he's had anything at all he's all grabby and aggressive with it. I think he'd get jealous a lot when he's not sober too. Definitely the type to get into a fight if he thinks some guy is looking at you too much.

idk if it's too in character but i love my emo bf💋

friends to lovers?Sam Monroe x Reader

wc' 878

Warnings! mention of a tiny bit of violence, marijuana use, sexual implications but nothing crazy. crazy amounts of fluff tbh.

LORD HAVE MERCY THANK YOU

i love this.

you and sam are best buds, like comfortable silence type close. You have always gone to concerts together and what not. You were both the social rejects, and that was okay. Because you had each other.

whilst the friendship was cute and close, it was extremely abnormal in some ways like you laying on his chest after school in his room while he showed you some underground pierce the veil and souxie and the banshees. He knew you liked them so he would do everything he could to peak your interest. His odd fixation with your body, lips, and face was not a friend kind of normal either.

You and sam had eagerly been waiting for months. concert tickets ready. and outfits picked and packed. It was your guys favorite band and some how you had snagged tickets a couple months back for a birthday gift to sam. He obviously was overjoyed when you surprised him with this. it gave him a reason to be delusional. he'd often lie awake, listening to your breathing on the other end of the phone whilst you slept, practicing his confession.

Today was the day. Sam came over with his pre rolls, tickets, and his dingy old eyeliner stick. He tried to fix his hair up a bit so he could look good for you guys wouldn't have to loose anymore time getting ready.

You opened the door to your room, guiding him to your bed to sit where he's sat countless times before. "go ahead and light one while i get my stuff ready." Sam might as well been in a trance, not listening to a word you said. you looked perfect. You were already ready to go, make up, hair, outfit, all perfect in everyway.

Sam fumbled with his joint and lighter after finally coming back down to earth and recalling what you told him. You and him both took drags of it as you put your pallets near you on the bed, sitting yourself on sams lap. His head leaned back against the pillow to look at your pretty face hanging over him.

sams hands naturally rested on your hips, like every other time you did his makeup but this time was different. His hands drug up your sides, his mind falling between his imagination and reality. He had done this a million times in his head, though he'd never admit it. He couldn't fathom how soft and beautiful you were sat on his waist like that. He hoped you didn't notice the prodding object growing underneath you. He had always told you it just does that when he's high. You shrugged it off.

His lips were mere inches from yours as you gently smudged his liner, looking up closely to make sure your work was perfect. He couldn't do anything but smile. even with his eyes closed he felt your divine prescence warming up his insides.

Your lips quickly brushed his cheek as you excitedly praised your handy work, urging him to look at the mirror. His face was beat red, almost as if you smacked the fuck out of him and left the imprint of you. He smiled the whole way to the concert.

"have you ever shot gunned before?" you asked him in the back of the taxi with a plotting grin, joint slowly burning in your hand.

the ride back home after the concert was quiet. you and sam had gotten the both of you kicked out.

Some guy had tried to dance with you, and eventually went as far as to borderline grope you. In no world would sam let that happen, so in response, he busted him in the face. you were quick to follow with a swift kick to his gut as he was knelt at your feet. so now here you were. back in the taxi, already on the way back home

Neither of you knew what to say. You felt bad cause it was sams birthday gift, and he felt bad cause he couldn't imagine how distressing that must've been.. and did you see him differently?

your hand slowly slid over to his in the backseat. you both knew peace in that moment. everything was ok. tired eyes met the others as you both give crooked smiles, to further affirm your feelings.

you and sam took turns, brushing each others thumbs the rest of the way.

You and sam didn't wanna go home yet. The taxi driver dropped you off at your car in the lot near home, and you both escaped the frigid air by climbing inside. The backseat was pretty empty except for some blankets and a couple of sams clothes from the last sleepover.

The both of you climbed to the back, seeing as neither of you planned on getting home for the rest of the night, feeling too weary and disoriented to travel any longer, much less separate for the night.

A cold chill shook you against sam as your body laid in between his, propped up against the passenger door. "Cold?" Sam asked, rubbing his hands up your arms, sliding over your goosebumps.

Sam adjusted himself sliding off his oversized jacket, opting to make it a blanket for you instead. As the hum of cars passed you both by, and the rain pattered on the windows of the car, he pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head.

note' i know this wasnt exactly what you had in mind but i loved this idea and i kinda ran with it, tysm!

#sam monroe x reader #sam monroe #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fanfiction #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker

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daddy-dotcom · 9 months

Text

The Visit

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Things aren’t looking good for Spencer after his visit to Mexico. So you decide to prepare for the worst, and you knew getting married was the only surefire way to stay connected while he was locked up.

Rating: M

Words: 5,333

Warnings: Language, typical canon violence, smut (fingering, p in v, breeding kink if you squint, unprotected sex)

*Disclaimer: Major inaccuracies for how the American prison system works lol*

TL;DR: Spencer and Reader get married so that they can have conjugal visits while he's in prison.

__________________________________________

I couldn’t bear to see him like this. Even worse, I couldnt bear to not be able to hold him and tell him everything was okay. Seeing him behind bars, alone, was enough to make me fight back tears. I’ve seen him hurt before, but this was different. It was almost as if I were staring at the ghost of Spencer Reid. I knew going to Mexico to get his mother’s medication was risky, but I had no idea that he’d end up in this much trouble. I should have stopped him. I should have gone with him. But no matter how guilty I was feeling, the damage was already done. With no concrete evidence that he was framed, it looked like Spencer was most likely going to be found guilty for murder. The love of my life was going to prison and I was completely helpless in the situation. At least I thought I was. . .until an idea struck me. An insane idea, and somewhat of a long shot, but an idea nonetheless, some small way to help Spencer keep his sanity while he was locked up. I wasn’t sure if he would go for it, but I had to try.

“hey, Spence,” I said with my face pressed against the cool metal of the bars.

“hi, (Y/N)” he said with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

“you’re looking more like yourself, baby. And they’re letting you come home with us on the jet.”

He slowly nodded his head in agreement, unsure of what else to say. For a man who typically had so much to say, it was eerie to be in such a silent room.

It’s now or never.

“So Spence, you know I was thinking, in case the…the unthinkable happens, and you aren’t acquitted…” I was fighting back the tears, trying to get my idea across,

“…maybe we should…I think it might be a good idea if we…get married?”

He immediately looked up to meet my gaze, looking more alive than he has the entire time we’ve been in Mexico.

“Married?” he said softly.

“Well it would only be so I can visit you, Spence. I mean like visit you visit you, without all the guards watching us and in a place where I can actually hold you and spend more time with you. Hell, I can’t even hug you for more than a couple seconds during a regular visit”

I could see the gears turning in his mind, something I’ve seen a million times, but I couldn’t tell if he was actually considering my offer.

“It’s been a year Spence, it’s not like we haven’t talked about it.”

It’s true. We’ve been dating for over a year now, and we’ve both made it clear that we’d like to marry each other some day. But we never imagined it would be this soon and under these circumstances.

Spencer got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and came over to hold my hand through the bars.

“Even if I weren’t facing prison time…it would be an absolute honor to marry you, (Y/N)”

All of the tension in my body melted away now that I knew he was on board with my proposition. I gave him a warm smile as he gently cupped my face in his hands. He planted a soft kiss on my forehead and held onto my hand before getting down on one knee.

“If we’re going to do this, I’d at least like to propose to you properly,” he said, with as much of a smile as he could muster.

“(YFN/YLN), will you marry me?” he asked.

The dam finally broke and I couldn’t fight back the tears any longer. They began to stream down my face as I let out a firm and resounding “Yes.”

______________________________

I was practically squirming in my seat on the plane ride home. It was almost impossible to keep this secret and it took everything I had not to blurt out our plan. I knew that I had to tell them soon, since we were going to need their help to make this happen. With a deep breath, I pulled Spencer up from our seats and marched over to the rest of the team.

“Guys, Spencer and I have an announcement to make,”

“Oh my god you’re not pregnant, are you?” said JJ.

“No! No, it’s not that,” I replied, I hesitated before dropping the bomb.

“Spencer and I are getting married.”

Prentiss and JJ exchanged a confused look while Alvez’s mouth hung open in shock. Rossi, however, seemed to know exactly what was going on.

“Oh I get it, you two want to get married so that (Y/N) can request ‘family visits.’” The implications of putting the word ‘family visits’ in airquotes was not lost on me. “You all might of heard of what they used to call them back in the day: conjugal visits.”

“Actually the practice conjugal visits have evolved into a more family oriented experience. Modern family visits usually last the weekend and include children and other family members besides just a spouse.”

“Glad to see you’re almost back to normal, kid” quipped Rossi.

“Well if we’re going to do this, we’re going to need some help. Prentiss, do you have anyone that can meet us at Quantico and marry us on such short notice?” I asked.

“I’m already making the call.”

“Does anyone else think this is just a little bit crazy? There’s a good chance that Spence won’t even go to prison at all,” JJ said.

Alvez snapped out of his daze and interjected.

“I agree, but if Reid and (Y/N) get to spend some alone-time together in the event that he does go, I don’t see the harm. I mean come on, Rossi’s been married like what, five times?”

“Hey, it’s only been three times,” Rossi responded.

“Look, JJ, you would do it for Will, wouldn’t you?”

She paused for a minute, pondering my question.

With a sympathetic look, JJ responded

“of course I would.”

_________________________________

As soon as we landed, we were greeted by Garcia and the court officiant who Prentiss had called on the plane. Garcia nearly tackled us coming out of the elevator, completely overjoyed to see Spencer home in one piece.

“Oh I’m so glad you’re all home safe!” she said squeezing us in a tight embrace.“But I can’t believe I had to find out about your engagement via a text from Alvez!”

“Sorry Penn, it was super last minute,” I said with a shrug.

“I brought you some things while you were on the plane ride home. (Y/N), for you I got a white dress, sorry I had to guess on the size, and Reid I asked your mom’s nurse if it was okay to grab a clean suit from your apartment.”

“Oh Penn, you didn’t have to do all this. Where did you even find a dress on such short notice?”

“Emily’s not the only one with connections sweet cheeks,” she said with a wink.

“Thank you so much, really Penn I appreciate it.”

“No need to thank me, now you and boy-wonder go get dressed so we can get you hitched.”

I took the bag from Penelope and inspected its contents once inside the bathroom. It was a simple but gorgeous white gown. It came down to about my calves, and it had white cap sleeves with a sweetheart neckline.

Classy. The woman has good taste.

I took a deep breath before exiting the stall, and I was greeted by Penelope, Emily, and JJ standing by the sink.

They all turned their heads towards me and gasped before looking me up and down.

“You look absolutely stunning,” said Emily.

“Spence is definitely gonna cry when he sees how gorgeous you look,” added JJ.

The tears had already started streaming down Penelope’s face as she walked over to me and placed one of her bracelets on my wrist.

“There, now you have your something blue,” she said with teary eyes. “You make the most beautiful bride (Y/N)”

“I’d love to stay in here and continue this little bachelorette party but our court official is waiting out there to marry our two lovebirds,” said Emily.

With one final look in the mirror, I took a deep breath and headed out the door, on my way to officially become Mrs. Spencer Reid. The reality of marriage hadn't hit me until just now. Who can blame me? I'd only become someone's fiancé about 5 hours ago. My palms began to sweat as my priorities shifted towards my impending marriage. Even if I wasn't ready, it was my idea in the first place and I intended to keep my end of the bargain. I, however, was more worried about Spencer. What if he was having second thoughts? I barely brought the idea up to him a few hours ago, and he was coming off of drugs in a Mexican jail cell when he agreed. Just as I was begging to spiral, a hand grazed the side of my waist and Spencer appeared. He cleaned up surprisingly well given the circumstances, looking incredibly handsome in his suit.

"Nervous?" he asked. As a profiler and a genius, there was no way I was going to be able to conceal my nerves from him.

"Spence, don't you know you're not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony?" I joked.

"(Y/N), you know I don't believe in superstitions," he said wryly.

"But yes, I am little nervous, mostly because I was afraid you might be having second thoughts."

He smiled warmly, the same way he had done when he agreed to marry me earlier in the day.

"Living in Vegas, and working with Rossi, I've known quite a bit of people who've gotten married on a whim. While it might be a little sooner than we thought, it's giving me a chance to hold you close in case I..." his voice began to crack and I could see his eyes welling up, "...in case I get taken into custody. But trust me, (Y/N), there was never a doubt in my mind about marrying you, especially now that I'm seeing how beautiful you look in a wedding dress."

I was tearing up too, at this point, for about the fifth time today. I took both of his hands in mine and simply said "I love you Spence,"

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

____________________________________________

We walked hand in hand into the briefing room where everyone was waiting anxiously for us and Spencer and I took our place across from each other in front of the court official. We joined hands once more and I could see Penelope shoot me a thumbs while Alvez gave Spence a reassuring pat on the back. The official began to speak which caused my heart to practically beat out of my chest.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here tonight to join this man and this woman in matrimony."

He turns toward Spencer before speaking again.

“Spencer, do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do” he said while maintaining my gaze. I could see tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, causing my eyes to well up too. But I couldn’t cry, because if I started now, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

“(Y/N), do you take this man to be your husband, to live together in matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?"

“I do,” I manage to say with a lump forming in my throat.

The court official turns back to Spencer and asks him to repeat after him.

"I, Spencer Reid, take you (Y/N), to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,” I could hear his voice start to crack as he fought back more tears, “in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

He said this with such conviction that there was no doubt in my mind that I wanted to marry this man. I’d never seen his eyes so full of love before. It was those kind eyes looking back at me that turned one of the worst days into the happiest day of my life. Now, it was my turn to recite my vows and officially become Mrs. Reid.

“I, (YFN/YLN), take you, Spencer Reid, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part."

It took everything in my power not to become a blubbering mess during my vows. Penelope, however, had no problem letting the tears flow freely down her rosy pink cheeks.

"By virtue of the authority vested in me under the laws of the District of Columbia, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

The court official gave a small smile before turning to Spencer and saying “you may kiss the bride."

Spencer wasted no time moving his hands to sit comfortably on my hips and I pulled his face in close for a kiss. This was something we’d done a million times before, but never for an audience. As soon as his lips touched mine, however, it felt as if we were the only two people in the room. All the exhaustion, pain, and suffering from the events of Mexico seemed to melt away as we kissed. He continued to press his lips more forcefully against mine and I could feel the slightest brush of his tongue before a voice spoke up from the crowd.

“Alright you two save it for the honeymoon,” Rossi joked.

We slowly pulled away and both our our cheeks began to blush like teenagers who’d just been caught by their parents. One by one, our team members came over to congratulate us and Penelope and JJ wanted a million pictures. We spent the rest of our night talking, laughing, and even dancing with our team members, just happy to find joy in this moment of darkness. Little did we know, Mexico was only the beginning of our troubles.

________________________________

Our wedding celebrations were cut short with the announcement that the FBI would not be legally representing Spencer since he broke protocol and didn’t inform them of his trip to Mexico. Once he went to trial, we still had no concrete evidence that he was framed, and his DNA was found on the murder weapon. Our worst nightmare had finally come true. Spencer was taken into custody and and whisked away to prison. A small part of me was grateful that I was now legally his wife, but I still wished that it didn’t have to happen under these circumstances. The day he was taken to prison, I immediately applied to be granted family visits and I begged Prentiss and Alvez to call in every favor they could to get moved up the waitlist. It was going to take a couple of months for Spencer to prove he was behaving in prison, but I could still visit him regularly before then. A couple of weeks after he was taken into custody, he was finally allowed to have visitors, and the team all unanimously agreed that I should be his first one. I wasn’t granted a family visit just yet, but I needed to see his face and finally be able to talk to him.

As I walked into the Millburn Correctional Facility, I was searched, went through a metal detector, and searched again before I was led into a room filled with a long partition and chairs on either side. I found a seat in the corner that had no one on either side of me and waited for Spencer to arrive. I nervously tapped my finger on the table as I anxiously waited to see my husband for the first time since he was taken to prison. I turned my head to see a tall, lanky figure in a white t-shirt and blue pants with a matching blue button up walking towards me. I could see his eyes light up when he spotted me and I could feel my entire being do the same.

“Hi baby,” I said, just happy to finally see him.

“Hi my love,” he replied with a ghost of a smile creeping up on his lips. I could tell he was slightly thinner and probably not sleeping well. However, his casual outfit combined with his shaggy hair and the growing stubble on his face somehow made him even more attractive.

“You look good baby, you holding up okay so far?”

“I'm doing okay, given the circumstances. How's my mom? Is she doing alright?"

"She's doing fine actually, Cassie said that she was having a really good day yesterday."

"Where did you, uh, tell her I was?"

"Uh, the beach," I told him with a chuckle, "well she asked if that's where you were and it seemed to make her happy so..."

"Good."

There was a pause and I couldn't tear my eyes away from his gaze. He wasn't breaking eye contact either and I could feel the love behind his stare.

"I, uh, I'm really happy to see you," he said, "I kind of wish you hadn't come, it's uh, not the best idea."

His words hurt slightly, but I knew the state that his mind was in. He didn't want to become a target and he definitely didn't want me to see him like this.

"Sorry Spence, but you're stuck with me," I said with a smile, "you got stuck with me the day you agreed to be my husband. And the last time I saw you, we promised for better or for worse. Besides, this is just the beginning, I've already applied for family visit privileges and we should be getting a date any day now. You don't know how badly I wish I could just hug you, Spence."

I saw him look down, I'm assuming in an attempt to fight back tears, before he spoke again.

"Thank you, (Y/N). I'm so grateful everyday that you're now my wife. But if you're here, that means you're not out working on a case, and I don't want to be a burden."

"That's nonsense Spence, you could never be a burden to me."

"Tell me about the case then, it will help get my mind off... all this."

I proceeded to give him the details of our latest case and I assured him that the rest of the team would be coming by to check in on him and visit him as well. It pained me that I couldn't hug or kiss him goodbye, but I held out hope that it wouldn't be long before I finally could.

While our team members were busy taking turns visiting Spencer in prison, I decided to start writing him letters. Most of them consisted of me catching him up on cases and my personal life, or lack thereof, while others were love letters that expressed just how much I truly missed him. Even though Spencer Reid is a certified genius and an excellent agent, at the end of the day he was still just a man and I knew that the stress that came with being in prison combined with not being able to touch me everyday was likely driving him insane. Luckily, our prayers had been answered and all of the favors from Prentiss and Alvez came through. I finally received a date for my family visit with Spencer, which would be three weeks from now. In the meantime, I began penning a letter to Spencer to tell him the good news. But this wouldn't be one of our typical letters; this letter was going to be much dirtier in nature. I had to admit that I too was starting to feel the effects from the lack of physical contact. So in my letter, I was going to tell him exactly what I wanted to do with him at our "family visit."

_______________________________

The day had finally arrived. Not only was I going to be able to see my husband, I was going to be able to hug him, touch him, hold him, and kiss him…among other things. In all honesty, I was just excited to see him with some semblance of normalcy. I had been researching spousal visits for the past three weeks, and the general consensus was that all of these women were dressing to impress. So I put on my nicest skirt, tight-fitting one that I had previously purchased with the intention of wearing to work but it was slightly too short for the office, and a floral blouse with spaghetti straps that was just low-cut enough to see the top of my cleavage. I paired the outfit with nude stilettos and fixed up my hair and makeup as nicely as I could. While my outfit certainly didn’t leave everything to the imagination, I still had to maintain a certain level of modesty. After all, I was still a federal agent.

The search process for spousal visits was much more intense, so much so that I couldn’t even bring my phone into the room with me. I was, however, allowed to bring books and a chess set for Spencer. I made my way through a longer hallway than the one I had gone through the last time, which led out to a courtyard where a row of temporary buildings sat. I was then escorted into one of the 4 rooms in the building and I was instructed to wait for the guards to bring Spencer in. I sat with my legs crossed on the bed in the middle of the room, which was unsurprisingly bare. The room resembled a somewhat nice motel room, with a kitchenette in one corner, a couch in the other, and a separate bathroom. The only sounds I could hear in the room were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the pounding of my heart in my chest. I wasn't nervous to see my husband, it was actually just the opposite. I was positively inpatient at the thought of finally being able to make physical contact with the love of my life. In an effort to distract myself, I poked around the bedside table, knowing damn well what I was going to find. There were more innocent items in the drawer, like soap and toothpaste, and right next to it were lubricant and condoms. We won't be needing those, I thought to myself with a smirk forming at the corner of my lips. I was startled by a knock at the door and quickly shut the door. I quickly adjusted my top and fixed my hair before replying.

"Come in!"

The door slowly swung open to reveal a handcuff-free Spencer standing in the doorway. He stood frozen in place, looking at me in disbelief that I was actually here. I stood up from my spot on the bed and ran over to give him the biggest hug. I squeezed my arms around his torso and buried my face in his chest. We stood like this for a moment, in the doorway, just familiarizing ourselves with each other once again.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, Spence."

I finally lifted my head up to get a good look at him while snaking my hands up to cup is face.

"Trust me, I've probably been more desperate to hug you than you have,"

"Oh really?" I asked with raised eyebrows, "you know this isn't a competition right?"

"Oh, I know. But if it was, I would win," he said, with the slightest hint of a playful smirk.

I took Spencer's hand in mine and pulled him over to my spot where I was sitting when he arrived. Our hands stayed connected as we sat side by side on the edge of the bed. While I was admittedly aroused at the thought of finally being able to make love again, all of those thoughts melted away when I finally saw him. Truthfully, I was just happy to spend some quality time with him and give him a break from this awful situation.

"How have you been since the last time I saw you, love?"

"I've been doing okay, mostly trying to keep my head down. I guess you could say I made a friend, though. His name is Calvin Shaw-"

"The agent who killed his informant?!" I exclaimed.

"Well yes, but he's the only one who knows I'm a federal agent and he's been pretty generous. Getting me moved to my own cell, giving me books and playing chess with me."

I gently placed a kiss on his forehead and began to stroke his beautiful veiny hand with my thumb.

"I'm just happy you're not completely alone in there baby"

"I've managed to make some connections, but what's been keeping me going is the thought of seeing you. I've actually been looking forward to this since the last time we spoke. . . and I haven't been able to stop thinking about that letter you sent me."

A wicked smile crept onto my lips as I realized which letter exactly he was referring to.

"Oh that letter! I'm glad you enjoyed it baby, I meant every word. I've been missing you in more ways than one. . ." I said, moving my free hand to his thigh. He inhaled deeply at my touch and his gaze was locked on mine.

"Well you don't have to miss me anymore, love, I'm right here. If we're being honest, I don't think I'll be able to focus on our conversation until I've had my way with you," he said, moving one hand to slide his fingers into my hair. I melted into his touch then I leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"You can have me, baby, any way you want," I replied, trying my best to look up at him with doe eyes.

He forcefully leaned in to place his lips on mine, and now both of his hands were tugging at my hair. This kiss was passionate, but in a way we've never experienced before. Since we've met, we've never spent more than a few days apart. This kiss was different, it was filled with longing and desperation. Months of going without physical contact has finally led to this moment. The moment when dam finally breaks and the sexual tension that's been building in our written correspondence comes to the surface.

One hand stayed pulling my hair while the other made its way to my breast. Equally touch starved, I moved my hand up his thigh to palm the now evident bulge forming in his pants. He hissed in response and I used then opportunity to force my tongue further into his mouth. He began to suck on it and I moaned into him at the feeling. He abruptly moved from my mouth and started working down towards my neck."

"You know," he said, breathlessly, between kisses "after you sent me that letter, I couldn't help myself. I'm lucky I have my own cell, I had to get some relief or else I would've gone insane."

"You're not the only one baby, " I replied in a daze as he continued tome further down my neck, "I would touch myself at night wishing it was your fingers inside of me."

He grunted at my words and buried his face in my breasts.

"You wore this top just for me didn't you?"

"Mhm, just for you."

"I think it's time we see what's underneath," he said as he pulled the shirt swiftly over my head. My lips crashed back into his and I made quick work of undoing the buttons on his shirt. I wasn't used to seeing Spencer in a white t-shirt, so I soaked up the image as best I could before pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor.

"You said you missed my fingers, baby?" I sighed a resounding "yes" before he moved his hands up my skirt, barely brushing his fingertips against my panties. I moaned at the contact, and I felt him smirk against my lips before pushing my panties aside and inserting a digit into my wet folds.

"Fuck, Spencer" I groaned as his long fingers stretched inside me.

"You're so tight, love. You really did miss me stretching you out, didn't you?"

"Yes!" I yelled and he began to pump his fingers in and out.

The room filled with the sounds of our moans and Spencer pumping in and out of me. I could feel a familiar pressure tightening in my abdomen, but I needed more of him. I knew he needed me too because I could see his erection straining through his pants. It's almost as if he read my mind because he removed his fingers and placed them in my mouth.

"Fuck, I need you so badly, (Y/N)," he said as I sucked on his fingers.

Not bothering to take off my skirt, I laid back on the bed as he pushed up the fabric and pulled off my panties. He undid his own pants and threw them haphazardly onto the floor along with his underwear. He brushed his fingers along my now exposed cunt, gathering my arousal on his fingertips.

"You're so wet for me baby, it's driving me insane."

He slid his hard length along my pussy, which earned a moan from the both of us before he pushed the tip into me.

"Oh my god, Spence," I whined. He was stretching me out so well since I haven't had him inside me in weeks.

"Baby you're so tight," he said, letting his mouth hang open in pleasure.

"Please, Spence. . .fuck me," I pleaded. He wasted no time and began to give me deep strokes. I moaned at every thrust, which only motivated him to thrust harder and deeper. His pace became relentless as the tip of his length was now hitting my cervix.

"Fuck, Spencer, come for me. I want you to fill me up, baby."

"Anything for you, love," he said, giving me everything he has.

"I want your babies Spencer, please!" I screamed, knowing full well that I was on the pill and that wasn't going to happen. . . yet.

That was all it took for him to spill his load inside of me. We both became moaning messes as he came. Once he was finished, he rolled off of me and ran to the bathroom to help me clean up. I went to pee, and when I returned, Spencer laid his head on my chest and we sat, cuddled in silence, until nightfall. Under the cover of darkness, I could hear quiet sobs coming from Spencer and I felt little drops of tears on my breasts.

"Baby are you okay? What's wrong my love?" I said, raking my hands through his soft wavy locks.

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, like a child, in barely more than a whisper.

"I wish I could stay here with you indefinitely. I wish I never had to sleep apart from you again. I was trying to be strong for you, (Y/N), but it's so much worse than I imagined."

I didn't press him for details, but I couldn't help but begin to cry in sympathy.

"Listen to me, Spence. I can't even being to understand what you're going through, but you are the strongest person I know. I also know that you have a team of people behind you who love you and will stop at nothing to prove you're innocent. Just remember that every time you're lonely or scared, baby. And we'll keep visiting you and sending you letters and books, anything we can do to keep your mind busy."

"Thank you, my love," he said, slowly rising up to plant a kiss on my lips.

"For better or for worse remember?"

"For better or for worse."

He spent the rest of the night lying on my chest as I stroked his hair and lulled him to sleep, avoiding the dread of being separated in the morning for as long as we could.

_________________________________________

AN: Finally finished this fic omg it was a long time coming. But I've been busy in medical assisting school and this one required a lot more research than my previous works lol. But finally happy with the result and please show it some love. Thanks to all my moots for believing in this :)

Taglist:

@reidscaffeine @swaggysagiewagie@v-i-o-l-e-t@louderfortheback

@sadroses98@lauravegann @coldoaftoadzipper-blog@avis-writeshq@inkwriter122 @bitchysweetskitty @cryingoverfelix@whyisitdifferent@namjoonspinkytoenail@thatsonezesty13 @singinghamtaro-blog@abbeyskeff@cassie444

#criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid x reader #mgg #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid fic #mattew gray gubler #spencer reid smut #criminal minds smut

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drefear · 10 months

Text

Hail to the King

Chapter 2: It All Comes Back to You

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is the head of the biggest mafia family in Nueva York, scaring almost all of its citizens. Except you. And that’s exactly what he needs.

Tw: masturbating (male) hints of trauma and past abusive relationship, drinking, a lil more of possessive and creepy Miguel.

AN: I have to say I feel like some of this might be kinda shitty because it was a bit rushed, but I also hate slow paced plots, so I guess I can’t help it. Hope you like it!

You.

The world was blurry as your eyes lost focus for a bit. Nothing seemed real. You thought you might wake up and everything would be normal again. No crazy mob bosses, no blow jobs in the office, no scheduled sex, none of it.

Who the fuck was this guy?

His life was so far from any type of common man’s that you were almost impressed. Fine pressed designer suits, women on their knees during his lunch break, meetings about hard drugs. For a building so beautifully kept and full of charming people, it sure was a mystery. Was everyone just sleeping with different people throughout the day? Were they also snorting lines off of the bathroom counter or cooking meth in the kitchen? What other dirty deeds were done in this place?

Lyla knocked on your door, saying something about setting up your new phone and calendar.

“And the blue events in the calendar are strictly private for Miguel.” She added, to which you saw that- yep. That meeting was blue. You mentally slapped yourself in the face and listened to the rest of what she had to say.

“Ok, that should be it. Your new phone is set up, and it also has the company card connected to it already, so you don’t need a physical card. Miguel set me a message about your shopping spree later, but I raised the budget he gave you to an extra ten thousand. Just in case ya really need something that might cross that line. And whatever you get, I do the paperwork so I’ll just write it up as an investment, like our donations to charity.” She shrugged and turned, blowing you a little kiss as she exited the room.

Your mind assaulted your conscious thoughts once she was gone, remembering how he looked only thirty minutes ago. Head back in ecstasy, eyes never wavering from yours as he orgasmed and slammed up into that girl's throat. You shivered from the memories and stood up abruptly, needing to move around before the warmth in your core spread and created any type of physical arousal.

Your phone buzzed, seeing Miguel’s name light up the screen. Unlocking your phone, only the words ‘Come to my office now.’ showed up and your feet began to move towards your door when you stopped.

A million thoughts danced behind your eyes and you smirked, tired of him already.

‘No.’ is all you answered before exiting your office and shutting the door loudly behind you so he knew you’d be gone. You confidently walked to the elevator and tossed your hair over your shoulder. He wanted your unfiltered thoughts? Well then, he had no idea what he signed up for.

Standing in the elevator, you saw him walk out of his office as well and make eye contact with you, making you flash back to what you’d seen earlier.

In seconds, you realized something as you stood ten feet away now. He knew you wouldn’t know about the color coded schedule. He planned that little power play. He was showing his dominance, like a dog peeing on his territory. A show of who was in charge and what you were to him. A plaything.

This split second of awareness made you even more confident in your defiance, as you saw him begin to close in on the elevator. The doors began to close and you smiled, waving to him right before they shut.

The ride to the lobby was serene, like the calm after the storm. Your day had been intense to say the least. A lot of arguing, thinking, absorbing, and borderline sexual assault on your eyes. But it wasn’t a bad day. In fact, this all gave you a thrill you didn’t know you needed.

Once on the ground floor, you walked outside and waved to a taxi, getting in once one stopped. Scrolling over the list you were given by Lyla, you stopped at one stare in particular.

“Take me to Hermès.” And you were gone.

Standing in the dressing room, the whole world felt like a scene from Pretty Woman. You twirled in tight, business dresses that you thought they only wore in movies about billionaires with red rooms. The color of your favorite so far was a lightweight white dress, but it seemed a bit much for the office, so you tucked it away and decided if you needed a sexy dress for an event, you’d pull it out.

You’d decided to go on a shopping spree on Fifth Avenue, where you’d been fired the previous day, and eat lunch right where this all had begun.

Sitting at a table, you requested Peter kindly and he made his way over in an instant. “I am so sorry, it was completely out of my control! I didn’t-“ he apologized and you just shook your head.

“It’s ok. I understand now. How about you get me a white wine and we call it water under the bridge?” You requested and he nodded, fetching it with hast. It was a great meal and once you were done, you gave Peter and Gwen both a hug.

“You know, since you technically got a huge promotion, we should celebrate! Go out tonight, get some drinks?” Gwen asked and you quickly agreed. A few drinks sounds exactly like what you needed.

Now beyond overstimulated, you made your way home with around thirty thousand dollars worth of clothing.

And when you saw a moving truck outside of your complex, you remembered that you were indeed moving.

Hours of tossing shit in boxes and taping them closed, you were packed and in the moving van on your way to your new apartment. You were still reeling with this whole world and how quickly things had spun into a web of insanity.

Leaning your head back against the side of the van, the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the reality began to sink in.

Arriving at your new place, the large men brought in the big pieces of furniture you decided to keep, which was really just your couch, bed, and coffee table. Everything else was unneeded and ugly anyway. You tried to help as much as possible, but quickly opted for carrying in boxes and garbage bags you’d packed in a rush. It was over just as quickly as it started and soon, you were sitting on your floor cross legged and staring at the boxes, then glanced at the shopping bags that were full of expensive dresses and clothing. That sounded like a lot more fun than unpacking your old sweats and knickknacks.

Pulling everything out and placing it on hangers, your eyes glanced at a specific outfit you’d chosen that’d be perfect to celebrate with Gwen tonight. Pulling on a white halter dress, you enjoyed the little bits of side boob and the way the thigh had a slit that showed more skin. The light fabric made it comfortable and easy to move in, and with a quick pair of strappy heels with sparkling rhinestones all over from Jimmy Choo, you grabbed your new Louis Vuitton purse and smiled. Maybe this job would be so terrible.

Texting Gwen, you also decided to invite Lyla and Jess. Lyla agreed to come out, whereas Jess said she didn’t have a sitter for the boys and would come out once her husband got home from work. A girls night was exactly what you needed, and everything about the feeling of hopping on the train and getting eyes from a few good looking men made you hum with pride. Ignoring all of the bullshit from the past two days, you liked Gwen a lot and she’s become someone you trusted even only knowing her for about a week. She had an authenticity about her that made you feel like she was honest and brave.

Lyla also made you laugh with how she always had something to say back. Her fun loving attitude was one you almost felt jealous of, how she seemed so relaxed. Jessica had a bad ass vibe to her, like everything she did could be documented and made into a comic or story. Like some sort of legend in the making.

You wanted to be like them in so many ways, you’d have to start taking notes and learning how they seemed to be so damn cool.

Stepping off the train and hurrying towards the club Gwen suggested, you couldn’t help but smile. You’re first time clubbing in Nueva York! It was so exciting, seeing people waiting outside of the club in a long line like in movies you’d seen. Waving to Gwen, who was already on line, you caught up with her. Her outfit fit her so well, a black shirt leather jacket over a dark silver mini dress with black tights with rips in them and black platform boots with chains down the sides. She looked like a rockstar, and that wasn’t too far from the truth. She smiled wide and grabbed your hand.

“This is going to be so much fun!” She added and you couldn’t agree more. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab yours from behind and saw a familiar pair of heart shaped glasses.

“Lyla!” Gwen cheered before you even turned around fully, all hugging together. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, how’s Mr. Grumpy pants?” The blonde asked and Lyla just rolled her eyes.

“Cranky as usual, but he comes in handy for some things. Follow me.” She pulled you both out of the line and to the front where many people were giving you all dirty looks. A security guard only took a second to look at Lyla and moved the ropes for her and you to come in, not even bothering to check your ids. You looked at Gwen in surprise and she just nodded, as if telling you to keep your cool.

The club was packed beyond belief, and a girl in a bodysuit and fishnets let you to a large booth-table with velvet black couches and a large bottle of champagne on the table. “Who did this?”

“I may have called ahead and three around Miguel’s name.” Lyla shrugged, grabbing a flute of champagne and filling it with the bubbly alcohol. She handed you each one more and tilted her glass to inspire a toast. “To our new recruit in the Spider society!” She cheersed and you blushed at the attention, Gwen whooping and hollering. The thrum of the heavy bass and heat from the moving bodies made you almost lightheaded, enjoying the free feeling from the liquid in your cup. Another bottle was brought out once Jess arrived and the four of you swayed a bit to the beat, to which you grabbed Gwen’s hand and attempted to pull her to the dance floor. Lyla followed with Jess and you all moved, swaying your hips to the rap playing in the dim lights. The flash of Lyla’s phone camera made you cover your face a little, still smiling and not stopping your dance, swiveling in a seductive motion and feeling the heat between your legs begin to rise from the feeling of the eyes around you watching. Jess nudged you and pointed to a man at the bar, a bit taller and thin in a dress shirt. You made eye contact with the man and the temperature of your chest rose once more. You made your way over to where he was, raising a hand at the bartender as you ordered a drink. He leaned over and spoke.

“On my tab.” His voice was low, eyes catching yours once more and making you feel very aware of your surroundings. A blush creeped onto your face and you tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I’m Harry.” He introduced himself and you returned the favor, shaking his hand gently. Big Sean pumped around you both as you talked for what felt like an hour, light conversation giving you a feeling similar to a high. It had been a while since you’d enjoyed speaking to someone like this, chemistry and familiarity.

“Is that you?” You heard someone speak from behind you and call your name, turning to face the last person you thought would be in front of you.

“Eddie?” You gasped, fear coursing through the previously hot blood in your veins, cold as ice now from this familiar face. “How did you-”

“I heard you moved here a few weeks ago and came to visit. Nothing like a friendly face, right?” You searched around for your female friends in vain, finding no one you even recognized. He slipped his hand into yours, frozen with horror as he squeezed, something you knew was actually a warning. “How about we find somewhere to talk?”

“Actually, I’m with my coworkers, now is a bad time.” You tried to remove your hand from his and felt him unrelenting, his grip tightening. “Please, not here.” You begged, pleading with him and knowing you’d get nowhere.

“There you are!” Jess’s voice rang through as she pushed through the crowd, Lyla and Gwen behind her. “We’re about to get another bottle- who’s this?” She raised a brow questioningly at Eddie, who stepped closer with a small smile.

“I’m Eddie, nice to meet you,” He shook her hand and her eyes glanced to yours, hopefully seeing the feeling of terror you were trying to show her.

“Right,” Jess pulled you closer to her and slipped her arm into yours, “well, sorry to burst your bubble, but we’re having a girls only night, so she’ll have to talk to you another time.” Jess secured her hand around your arm and smiled, knowing exactly what you needed. Behind you, Lyla had signaled security and had them coming closer, but a voice made everyone stop moving instantly.

“Actually, I think it’s time we all go.” A deep voice said from your right and you looked up to see your boss.

“How-“ Gwen asked but was quickly cut off by the glare Miguel sent her.

“I saw the videos Lyla posted and came to celebrate as well.” From his body language, that definitely was not his true intentions, but you were left in the dark as Jess and Lyla looked extremely nervous, like they’d just got caught doing something very bad.

Gwen leg the way out as Jess and Lyla followed, to which you began to walk forward with them, but a hand grabbed your wrist once more and you came face to face with Harry, who’d been caught in the crossfire of your drama.

“When will I see you again?” He begged slightly, a small smile on his lips until Miguel stood in between you two and sneered at him a bit.

“Get your hands off my employee.” His voice was dangerous, a presence only a lion would challenge. Without letting anyone interject, he dragged you out through the crowd and into the street lights. A hoard of men in black clothing stood outside with the girls, seemingly waiting for you and Miguel. You all climbed into a black SUV where all of the seats faced each other and both Jess and Lyla hung their heads, Gwen holding your hand in concern.

“What the hell was that, Lyla?!” His voice was loud, accusatory. “Are you trying to start a fight?”

“Of course not, I just wanted to-“

“I don’t even want to hear it. And you, Jess? You should know better than anyone what that could have led to!” His tone made you coward backwards a bit, Jess unwavering in her confidence.

“Who do you think you’re speaking to like that? Lyla and I were with her and Gwen, we were perfectly safe.” She defended and Lyla nodded, Gwen looking up just as confused as you.

“What are you guys talking about?” You asked quietly and as if he just noticed you were there, his eyes were cautious. Everything was silent for a moment before he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“That nightclub is owned by another mob in Nueva, a smaller one, but it would still be a problem if anything else had happened. They would think I sent spies to their club.” He added the end as an example. You looked down as Gwen rubbed your shoulder from worry.

“I’m taking you all to a different club, one that won’t cause any unnecessary issues-“

“Actually…” you started and but your lip before continuing. “I think I just want to go home. I’m too tired to stay out.” You didn’t dare look up at anyone else, eyes trained on your shinny shoes that you were so excited about a few hours ago. How did everything keep happening so fast?

The car stopped outside of your building and you got out, followed by Miguel. He tapped the top of the car and the rest of the girls were sent home. You both walked in and onto the elevator.

“I don’t need an escort-“

“This is also my building.” He interrupted you and you finally looked up at him, watching as his eyes stayed focused on the buttons of the elevator. He tapped your floor and then the top floor. Of course he had the penthouse.

You stayed soundless, the exhaustion finally hitting you and making you drag your feet. The doors opened and you glanced at him before just walking out.

“By the way.” He spoke before you could walk too far, turning to look into his eyes for the first time that night. “Next time my office door is shut, remember to knock.” The metal doors closed and the memory of him fucking into that woman’s throat was then fresh on your mind.

Miguel’s head fell back against the metal. Lyla had posted those videos of you dancing on her account and he’d seen them when she started not answering his messages, then watching how you moved your body in that adorable white dress. And the way it moved up your thighs while you danced-

Miguel opened his eyes as the ding of the elevator sounded that he’d reached his penthouse. Walking into his dining room, he shed himself from the suit jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt, stretching his shoulders and tossing the shirt into a hamper close to his closet. Unbuckling his belt, Miguel let out a breath of relief as he adjusted himself to be more comfortable. Sitting down on his bed, he reached for his laptop and settled under the covers. Scrolling through a few documents, he pulled up his background search of you. Your photo popped up with some of your social media. Pictures from the beach, a few from birthdays, and some family photos, you seemed completely normal.

But something was off.

Miguel knew he was intimidating, it was part of his stature that made his job a little easier. You weren’t afraid of him, you kept your ground and fought back to him.

But tonight, you had fear in your eyes when you saw that guy. What was his name again? Adam? Who knows, but he saw that slight hesitation and anxiety in you that he didn’t recognize. You were scared of that guy.

He thought back to earlier in the day when he’d saw you as he was getting his normal de-stressing from one of the girls in the lower levels, something many women around him volunteered for. She’s come up and offered sex, but he just needed a mouth to fuck.

And then you walked in with that plain outfit and sensible shoes, holding your tablet like you’d been in a rush. And he couldn’t look away. You should have been the one wrapped around his dick, he wanted to hear you gagging on him as he thrusted upwards and grunted. He wanted to cum inside your mouth, not someone random woman’s from marketing. He wanted you.

Unknowingly, his hand had traveled to his boxers and he’d begun rubbing himself to the thought of you.

All he could imagine was you mouthing off to him, and him bending you over the kitchen counter in his apartment, holding one arm behind your back as the other moved to grasp anything within reach as he took you from behind. Miguel rolled his eyes back at the thought of your warm hole welcoming him as he licked two fingers of his free hand and rubbed circles on your clit until you were practically pushing him away from the intensity of your orgasm. But no, he wouldn’t let you get away that easily, he wanted to feel it around him, so he would angle his hips a little more upward, hitting that soft spot that made you arch your back into him more and let out broken moans.

As if on cue, white ropes of his own mess hit his chest and he looked down in surprise, having forgotten what his hand had been doing. He sighed and got up to rinse himself off with a softening cock and an empty mind. The single thing on his brain when he tossed and turned in his sleep that night?

You.

Gwen’s outfit

Your outfit

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 3

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