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#(she already knew she was into every part of that idea. she just realized there's a very awkward problem here.)
maizylx · 2 days
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Kafka x f!reader NSFW- minors dni
"I can 'lead' you"
Sub f!reader, fingering, strap riding, lingerie, tying and controlling you with her ability,
Words: 2000+
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You were having an absolute blast at the mall with your friends, thanks to Kafka generously providing some spending money. With the guilt of splurging your own funds lifted, you indulged in shopping for clothes and snacks without a care in the world. As you and your friends lounged on a bench in the middle of the mall, surrounded by a mountain of shopping bags and each clutching a refreshing bubble tea, your phone suddenly buzzed in your pocket, jolting you from your peaceful moment.
Curiosity piqued, you retrieved your phone and checked the notification.
It was a message from Kafka. Asking you to meet her in her apartment at 6 pm. How could you possibly refuse? You eagerly accepted the invitation, though a hint of nervousness fluttered in your stomach for no valid reason. After all, it wasn’t uncommon for Kafka to invite you over to her room almost every week for various activities behind closed doors. When Kafka mentioned she had a surprise in store for you, your curiosity was piqued even further.
Your friends couldn’t help but notice the flush creeping up your cheeks and seized the opportunity to tease you. “Is your boyfriend texting you?” they chimed in with amusement. You shook your head vehemently, hastily tucking your phone away. “I don’t even have a boyfriend!” you muttered, sitting up from the bench with an annoyed huff, taking a sip from your nearly empty bubble tea. As you made your way towards the trash can to discard the cup, your attention was suddenly captivated by an intriguing store-a lingerie shop to be exact.
With the idea of surprising Kafka with a thoughtful gift in mind, you made your way into the store, determined to find the perfect seductive undergarments that would surely bring a smile to her face. You knew she would appreciate the gesture, and the idea of showing up with something so alluring made you feel a rush of excitement.
Aware that your sudden disappearance might worry your friends, you quickly informed them of your intentions. “Guys, I’m just going to check out that store real quick,” you gestured towards a harmless-looking shop, ensuring they wouldn’t jump to any false conclusions. They nodded in understanding, allowing you the freedom to explore the store without their watchful eyes.
Browsing through the racks, you eventually stumbled upon a cute set of undergarments in a shade that perfectly matched Kafka’s hair color. It was both pretty and seductive, just as you had hoped. Securing the set in your grasp, you made sure no one could snatch it away from you before indulging your curiosity and exploring the rest of the store.
The store offered an array of enticing items, including stockings and elegant nightgowns, but you quickly dismissed the idea of adding anything else to your purchase. That would be pushing it a bit too far. Making your way to the cash register, you finalized your selection and discreetly tucked the purchase into one of your shopping bags for safekeeping. With the surprise safely hidden away, you couldn’t wait to see Kafka’s reaction.
Returning to your friends’ spot with the same number of bags raised a few eyebrows, prompting one of them to inquire if you’d found anything. You shook your head with a faux disappointed sigh. “Sadly no, but I’ve already spent enough for today, so it’s fine. Plus, it’s getting late, so I think I’ll head home,” you explained.
Your friends nodded in understanding, agreeing that it was indeed getting late and they too should probably call it a day. With a round of goodbyes, you parted ways, each heading in your own direction.
Checking the time as you walked, you realized it was nearly time for your 'meeting' with Kafka. Speeding up your pace, you knew you needed to change into your new outfit before meeting her. Arriving home, you swiftly set your shopping bags down, grabbed the undergarments, and changed into them in a hurry.
Glancing at the clock, panic surged within you. It was already five to six, and you knew how much Kafka despised being kept waiting. Your plain outfit would have to suffice for now. After all, you doubted it would stay on for long once you were with her.
Arriving at Kafka’s apartment door at 18:02, you hoped she wouldn’t be too upset about your slight tardiness. The doorbell rang, and Kafka soon appeared, greeting you with her usual smug smile. “Hm, you left me waiting,” she remarked, her voice dripping with sultry allure, though a hint of irritation lingered beneath the surface. Quick to apologize, you explained about having to take your shopping bags home. She simply smiled and tugged you inside by the arm. “I don’t need your apologies in words,” she teased, her tone laden with implications that left you feeling both excited and apprehensive.
Without much time to react, Kafka swiftly pinned you to her bed, leaving you feeling momentarily dizzy from the sudden movement. Your wrists were captured beside your head, held firmly in place as your back sank into the plush cushion of the mattress. Before you could utter a word, she silenced you with a deep, passionate kiss that stole your breath away, leaving your words trapped in your throat. The intensity of her kiss sent a jolt of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire of desire within.
Breaking away from your lips, Kafka trailed her lips down to your neck sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Her free hand slipped beneath your top, gliding over the smooth expanse of your stomach, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. Your sweet reaction drew a chuckle from her lips and after a short while she had removed your top entirely, exposing your skin to the cool air of the room, the contrast with your heated body temperature sending tingles dancing across your skin.
Kafka’s fingers traced the delicate lace of your bra, her touch sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “How gorgeous,” she purred, her voice dripping with sultry admiration. “I don’t recall you owning such a pretty bra.” With a mischievous grin, she tugged your bra further down so your nipples were visible, her intentions clear as desire smoldered in her eyes.
Her bruised lips trailed even further down to your breasts, and in a swift movement she captured your nipples between her plump lips. A moan escaped your lips, and your hand tangled itself in her wine red hair to pull her lips closer to your body. While her mouth was busy suckling your nipple, her free hand clawed your other breast and squeezed it roughly. Your sweet moans were music in her ears, and she wanted to make you scream even more for her, so she pulled away from your body to take off your bottom. A chuckle rang through her throat as she admired the way the lingerie looked on you.
"I see, someone wants to be fucked like a slut, hm?" Her words made you twitch slightly and you couldn't help but agree with her words. Your expression said everything she needed to know, so the tip of her finger was slowly entering your panties. Due her movements you expected her to take of your panties, but you thought wrong, Instead, she lifted the fabric of your lingerie and let it flick back against your skin playfully, causing a slight redness to bloom on the spot where it made contact.
Her actions were teasing and playful, adding an unexpected element of sensuality to the moment as she continued to watch your reactions with a mischievous glint in her eyes. You couldn't help but whine slightly at the unexpected pain, and she chuckled slightly "I'm sorry, my dear. I was just joking~"
her teasing antics caused your eyes to roll in annoyance and exactly in this moment she suddenly snapped your panties off your body "I don't like it when you roll your eyes in annoyance, I prefer when you roll your eyes in pleasure~" before you could say anything else she silenced you with her fingers brushing against the slit of your. The sensation caused you to shake, and let out a breathy moan. "Already wet, are we?" Kafka mumbled as she felt the dampness between your thighs while spreading your thighs apart.
The tip of her fingers teased your hole, and lightly stretched your tight walls with one finger for now, before adding a second one. Your body reacted on it's own as it started to shiver and clutching her fingers with your walls as if your hole was about to devour her fingers. Her fingers curled up at a sensitive spot of yours which instantly made you moan her name in desperation. You didn't want her to stop but she suddenly pulled her fingers out of you which left you feel empty.
"W-Why did you stop?" You murmured desperately, when she abruptly reached for your squishy little cheeks, cupping your face "Do you remember the 'surprise' i promised you?" You nodded, trying to recall the memories referenced in her messages, but confusion still lingered on your face as to what they had to do with the current situation.
The curious expression you wore prompted Kafka to chuckle softly as she pulled away from you completely. With purposeful strides, she made her way to a drawer, opening a shelf from which she pulled out something. Your eyes widen as she revealed a silicone dick with a strap. "Do you understand now?"
You gulped and now everything made a little more sense; the fingers were just there to stretch you for the following act. Kafka sauntered back to you with a sultry grin, while you sat up, slightly bemused by her antics. “Oh, please, I expected more enthusiasm,” she teased, her expression feigning disappointment, prompting a sigh from you at her playful demeanor. “What exactly do you want to do with it?” you inquired, unsure of her intentions.
Her face adopted a thoughtful expression as she tapped her chin in contemplation. "You could ride me" The suggestion she eventually proposed left you stunned, though a small hint of excitement flickered within you. “But I don’t know how that exactly works,” you admitted hesitantly, feeling a twinge of unease at the prospect of doing something wrong.
However, Kafka simply laughed, dismissing your concerns with a wave of her hand. “It seriously can’t be that hard. But if you’re really that nervous, I could ‘lead’ you,” she suggested with a playful tilt of her head, her implication not lost on you.
"Okay, fine, let’s try it out,” you agreed reluctantly, giving in to her enthusiasm. Kafka’s satisfied grin only served to heighten your curiosity as she sat down on the bed and clasped the strap around her waist, anticipation building between you as you came closer to her, when suddenly you had difficulties to move.
“Why are you looking like that? I thought you wanted me to lead you,” Kafka purred with a smug smile, her confidence palpable as she guided your body onto her body. With a swift movement, she manipulated the strange pink strings connected to her fingers, wrapping them around your body until you were completely enveloped by them. With another flick of her wrist, she effortlessly lifted your thighs into the air, making your clit kiss the tip of the silicone cock, and she was lowering you even further and further down on her strap.
You could feel the strap entering you and you let out a loud gasp at the sensation. As Kafka’s hand began to move, the strings followed suit, controlling your body’s movements in perfect synchronization. The sensation of being moved without exerting any effort yourself was both strange and exhilarating, and you found yourself enjoying the pleasure despite the initial surprise. With the strings doing all the work, you were able to relax and simply go along for the ride.
Kafka grinned in satisfaction as you moaned and threw your head back in pleasure. She sped the movement a little up and made your tight hole take all of her. Your walls clenched around the strap and your moans turned breathless and strained. Her gaze shifted between your flushed face and your jiggling breasts, and she just had to squeeze one of your pretty breast with her hand. The double stimulation made you whimper her name desperately And you felt yourself coming closer to the point. Kafka noticed that you were close so she tilted her head in curiosity
"Oh that soon already?" she cooed in amusement and made you move even faster up and down. The only thing you could do is nod as you were so full of pleasure to do anything else at this point and then suddenly you let yourself go. Your eyes rolled back, your whole body was trembling, you curled your nails in your palm. Your pussy was dripping with cum and the silicone cock was covered in your juices.
The hand on your breast was loosing up and after a time, the strings were finally removed, allowing you to move freely once again. You collapsed onto the bed next to Kafka with a soft thud, breathing heavily, your lips parted in exhilaration. “Did you have fun, my dear?” Kafka asked, her hand tenderly caressing your cheek as you could only nod in response, still reeling from the excitement of the experience.
"Maybe we should do this again some time~"
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krystalcat · 2 days
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can I get a slight fluffy soulmate au ot8 oneshot of (me) meeting ateez after a show and catching their interest when I say something in my native language out of nervousness 🙈
since I am kinda tall (172cm), to have that as a mental image
Of course! This was my first time writing a soulmate AU, so I had to search a little to be sure of the story ideas. I hope I didn't drive away from what you were expecting and that you enjoy this! Also I'm so incredibly sorry for taking so long to post this, I was constantly rewriting the ending but finally came with something I also enjoyed.
This is also my first time writing ot8 so I tried my best to every member have some spotlight as well
What Is Love?
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ღ Pairing: AteezOT8 x afab!Reader ღ Genre: Fluff, Soulmate AU ღ Word count: 1,8k ღ Warnings: some cursing and I think that's it ღ Summary: For everyone, it was a known fact that the name of someone's soulmate appeared on their skin after meeting them. Spending your whole life watching your friends and acquaintances getting those marks on their skin made you believe perhaps you didn't have an assigned soulmate. ღ Disclaimer: This is only fiction, by writing this I am not trying to represent the members in any way. Not proofread!
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It was that time of the year again, a week before Valentine’s day. Once again, you were out with your girl friends in a cafe, discussing how everyone was spending their Valentine’s day with their soulmates. Except you.
Your 23rd birthday was coming up, and you still didn’t find your soulmate, despite visiting tons of places and currently living in the South Korea. Almost every one you knew had already found theirs, so saying you didn’t feel left behind was a blatant lie, despite it being no one’s fault.
At this point you had lost hope, you accepted you were part of the small minority who didn’t have an assigned soulmate. Your friends and parents suggested that you could start a relationship with someone else who also didn’t have a soulmate, and oh man you tried. Unfortunately, there was either always a spark missing or your date had to tell you they had found their soulmate.
It felt like it was destined for you to be forever alone, like the stars played a cruel prank on you.
“Yn? Did you hear me?” One of your friends woke you up from your deep thoughts, making you realize the table was looking at you.
“Sorry what was it? I was just thinking about something”
“Do you have any plans for Valentine’s day?” The same friend asked you, almost in a whisper. They knew they were touching a sensitive topic, but they still had hoped this year would be different from all the others.
“Probably the same as last year, being alone on my apartment and binge-watch some movies and series” The air now thick after your answer, leaving your friends both feeling bad for their nosiness and your situation.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with you, but I think I should go. I shouldn’t make you guys feel bad for something that is out of your control” You grabbed your things and gave them your part of the bill.
“Wait, just to make sure, you’re going to Ateez’s show tomorrow right?” She asked after you got up
“Of course I am, bye!” All three of them said goodbye as well as you left the café, making your way back to your apartment.
Seeing all the couples hugging and holding their hands felt like a stab in your heart, you just wanted to know what it was like to feel loved. You wanted to know what love felt like. Was it sweet like candy? Was it addicting? Could it make you feel like you were in heaven? Could it hurt you?
Ever since your teenage years those questions lingered around your mind, still left unanswered.
«—— ღ ——»
You were now waiting outside for Ateez to leave their music show to greet the fans, it was your first time going to one of the k-pop music shows, so you had no idea of how it functioned, but nevertheless you had a great time watching Ateez perform.
By the end your throat was sore from all the cheering and fan-chanting, you would hype each and every members during their parts along with your friend, despite knowing your screams would combine with everyone else’s. Every single one of the members looked so charming and charismatic with their stylish outfits and stage presence, too bad they couldn’t manage to get the win, losing only by a few points, you would’ve loved to hear them sing the encore as well.  
“Look yn!” Your friend patted your arm as screams erupted, making you look up from your cellphone, the members were leaving. Lucky you, they were passing right by your side, just on the other side of the iron fence.
You nervously clutched the album you brought for them to sign, your mind rehearsing what you would say. It wasn't every day that you got to meet your favorite group, after all.
The members approached, greeting fans and signing merchandise. As they drew nearer, you couldn't help but marvel at their charisma and genuine smiles. One by one, they signed your album, each exchange leaving you more in awe than the last.
When it was finally your turn to meet Hongjoong  you felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness. You handed him the album, and he smiled warmly, ready to engage in a brief conversation.
As you stammered through your words, you inadvertently let out a nervous laugh and muttered something in your native language. The members exchanged curious glances, and Hongjoong's eyes lit up with interest. He leaned in, asking, "What language was that?"
You blushed, realizing you had unintentionally piqued their interest. "Oh, sorry, that was just my native language. I tend to switch to it when I'm nervous."
Seonghwa, who was standing nearby, grinned and joined the conversation. "It sounded beautiful. What did you say?"
You smiled back, feeling a bit more at ease. "I just said that meeting ATEEZ feels like a dream come true."
The members exchanged appreciative glances, and Yunho chimed in "We feel the same about meeting our fans. It's like a dream for us too"
They brisked towards the van, continuing greeting the other fans until disappearing inside of the van. You could see some of the girls looking at you weirdly, but as you stared down at them they diverted their gaze and stomped away.
“Girl you were noticed by them! We need to tell the others about this! It was so cool and honestly a little funny when you basically said ‘fuck off’ with your stare to the other fangirls”
After talking for a little while, you said your goodbyes and went to your house.
«—— ღ ——»
You tossed your little purse anywhere and took off your shoes right after closing the door behind you. You immediately went to the bathroom, pulling your hoodie sleeves up to wash your face after a long day. It seems only now your face had cooled a little.
But you noticed something on your right arm, the Ateez’s members names were written on it. You scrunched your eyes, not remembering when you had written their names there, shrugging your shoulders after thinking it was probably something you and your friend did out of boredom waiting for the queue to the music show.
Grabbing some soap and washing your arms didn’t seem to work, which made you even more confused, and then it dawned on you: it was your soulmate mark.
Water kept splashing against the sink as you kept staring at their names with an agape mouth. After all this time cursing the destiny at how you didn’t have a soulmate, you had finally gotten, not one, not two, but eight of them.
But now there was another problem: how the hell were you supposed to see them again? Their promotions are ending, they don’t have any fansign planned anytime sooner and you sure as hell wouldn’t be stalking them with a chance to talk to them. Especially when they didn’t even have your name, sure they might have it on their arm now, but who could say they would associate your faceto the name on their arm?
Needless to say you barely slept that night, and the one after that, trying to find a solution to no avail. It seemed like you had to wait even more time before you could meet them once again and talk about all of this.
«—— ღ ——»
It is now Valentine’s day, and you still haven’t seen the members. At this point you had accepted you would only see them next comeback season, which at least 4 months waiting. Different from the other years, where you would hide in your cave, today you were going for a walk, seeing the various couples dining in restaurants.
You were only sad you couldn’t spend the day with your soulmates, deep down knowing sooner or later you would meet them once again.
You sat on a bench, still seeing all the lively cafes and restaurants adorned with red and pink decorations, music buzzing through the walls, the loving gazes couples would give to their significant other.
“Excuse me?” A voice behind you interrupted your thoughts, “Is this yours? It was on the floor” turning around you saw a man wearing a mask holding a butterfly hair pin, touching your hair, you realized it was actually yours.
“Yes it is, thank you” He gave the pin back and walked away after mumbling a ‘you’re welcome’, you pin it on your hair more securely and turn to the path you were facing before, only to turn your head back once more when you hear quick footsteps approaching you.
The same man from before sprints into your direction, stopping in front of you, “Ex-Excuse me once again,” He says between breaths, “Is your name y/n?” You quirk your eyebrow, backing away from the man.
He takes off his mask, leaving you dumbfounded: it was San, Ateez’s San right in front of you, in casual attire. “I’m so sorry for scaring you, I realized you seemed like a girl I saw a few days ago” He backed away, giving you some space.
“Y-Yes I’m y/n, I’m the one you saw”
“Oh my God, we thought we’d never see you again” He gave you one of his signature dimple smiles, turning your belly into mush. “Are you busy? Do you have any place to be?”
“No, I was going back home in a few minutes”
“I’m actually a bit late to a dinner with the other members, but I’m sure they would forgive my carelessness if I brought a guest, don’t you think?” Nodding, San put his mask back on and gave you his hand - which you obviously accepted - guiding you to the restaurant.
«—— ღ ——»
They were dining in a secluded part of the restaurant, as you greeted them with a smile, you could see them changing their annoyed demeanor (due to San being late) to a surprised and happy one and called for the waiter to add another plate.
As the dinner progressed, you quickly began getting used to their attention and personalities. It was crazy how you turned from strangers to lovers in such limited time.
You finally understood what is love. Love is unconditional, the greatest gift you could ever give or receive. Love is when the other person’s happiness is more important than your own. To love is to be vulnerable, to trust others. Love is pain, and the enjoyment of it is anesthetic. To love is to admire with your heart, and to see something positive in every person. It is blind and the energy of life.
But you’d choose it everyday over being alone in a world devoid of connection and warmth.
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krirebr · 3 days
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Hello, my dear Kris! So after reading the newest fic from the Trapped AU… I just can’t stop thinking about those two. And you know me… I’m all about making my heart hurt with a little angst…
Can we get a snippet or drabble or your thoughts on an angsty moment -and Andy’s surprisingly soft reaction- that takes reader by surprise by the end of it…
Maybe she’s not feeling well and missing all the comforts of her old life- the things she would do when not feeling well prior to this life with Andy
Or maybe, after accidentally seeing a calendar while cleaning in Andy’s office, reader realized a special day has passed or is approaching.
Or maybe she feels a twinge of jealousy when she sees another beautiful women flirting with Andy and she’s so thrown- never once thinking she could ever feel that way with about him
Any little bit of angst where Andy uncharacteristically (at least for now) comforts her in the softest way possible- and maybe this is her kryptonite (and maybe it even turns her on a little) Would Andy use this new knowledge to his advantage? Of course he would 😈
I just want him to be soft and not so terrifying 🥺😭🫠
My heart is so torn 😭🫠
I love them and even him- you evil mastermind!
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(Kris 👆while writing this lovely verse)
(Also- I LOVE trash pandas, so I hope you are not offended that I depicted you as one in your evil genius mode 😅)
Carly! I love this prompt! I had to think really hard about the inciting incident, but once I thought of it, I knew exactly what to do. This Andy can absolutely get soft. That's part of what he wants in his perfect life! It'll just always be on his terms. 😈
And no offense at all at the trash panda! That's exactly what I look like when coming up with ideas for this verse. 😏
Pairing: Andy Barber x f!reader - from Trapped AU
Warnings: Just general kidnapping/basement wife/toxic relationship warnings that come with this AU. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI
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It started with a mug.
Andy presented it to you about a week after you moved upstairs. It was your favorite color (your real actual favorite, not something he’d decided you liked) and had a pretty vine pattern etched into it. It was your mug. You drank your tea out of it every day. And you tried to tell yourself that it was bad because everything that came from him was bad. But it was yours. No one else drank out of it. Only you. It felt like the only thing in the world that you actually owned. 
And so, as you looked at the shattered pieces on the floor, as you told yourself that this was fine, that it was just another thing in this house full of things, all you felt was immense, gut-wrenching loss. You sank down next to the pile of shards on the ground. Maybe you could piece it back together, or, or– You didn’t know what to do. And you knew you were being ridiculous but you started crying. Sobbing. You’d already lost so much. And now the last thing on earth that belonged to you was gone too, and you were the one who destroyed it.
You heard Andy’s footsteps come into the kitchen, but you couldn’t see him from where you were crouched behind the island. “What was that crash?” he asked, harshly. The sob you let out brought him around to where you were. He looked down at you, his hands on his hips. “What happened here?”
You looked up at him through your teary eyes. He was going to be so upset with you. “I’m sorry,” you gasped. “I’m so sorry! I don’t know what happened. It fell, and, and– it’s gone now.” You tried to wipe your face clean, but you couldn’t stem the stream of tears.
“You didn’t throw it?” Andy asked.
“No! No, I would never!” You hoped he could see how sincere you were. 
He sighed and crouched down in front of you. “Explain to me why you’re so upset.”
You struggled for a moment, no idea how to put everything you were feeling into words. And you were so scared of saying the wrong thing. Finally, all you could come up with was, “You gave it to me.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed as his face completely softened, no hint of anger or a coming reprimand remaining on it. He gently grasped your elbows, “Here, let’s get you up. I don’t want you to hurt yourself on any of the shards.” 
He raised you up slowly, then guided you into one of the stools at the counter. Then he went to the little kitchen closet and grabbed the broom and dustpan. As he started to clean up, you rushed to stand. Andy hardly ever cleaned anything. That was your job. “Oh no,” you tried to stop him. “That’s ok, I can do it!”
He just hushed you, as he quickly made a pile of the shards and scooped them into the pan, and then into the trash. “See?” he said, “all done. It’s fine.” He ushered you into the living room and pulled you down into his lap on the couch, wrapping you tight in his arms. “I’ll get you a new one,” he said softly. “Even prettier than the last one.”
Without even thinking about it, you laid your head on his shoulder, as he ran his hand up and down your back. “You’re such a good girl,” he whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here. You make me so happy.” You knew you should hate that. You knew that it should make you angry. But you were just so relieved that he wasn’t upset with you, you couldn’t help but sink into him. 
After a few moments of just cuddling, he spoke again, his low voice right next to your ear. “I think you need a break, huh? How about we just spend the day together? Your chores can wait til tomorrow. We’ll even order dinner in tonight. How’s that sound?”
You were so worn out, from your sobbing, yes, but also, from everything, so all you could do was nod into his shoulder.
“Ok, then that’s what we’ll do. Just me and my good girl,” he said, his voice maybe the gentlest you’d ever heard.
“Thank you, Andy,” you sighed.
Tag list is open
@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @foulpersonahandsvoid @alexakeyloveloki @spiderwebbedhearts
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doolallymagpie · 4 months
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i don't share too many overtly naughty headcanons, really, but here's one:
at some point in her life, bobbie used her name, rank, and serial number as her safeword, she stopped because someone finally made her realize how bad it sucks as one
a thought, use it as you wish
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gurugirl · 1 month
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The Handyman
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Summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for.
A/N: This was requested! Also if you'd like to see early access content like this (plus more exclusive content) consider joining my Patreon! xoxo
Word Count: 10.9k
Warning: smut, mentions of a close relative dying, and tons of sweetness
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When you pulled up the long dirt driveway to the old estate you used to spend your summers at, it was as if you could feel your aunt Gayla’s presence all around you again. You could remember running through the fields and the trees and dawdling your afternoons away on the big wraparound porch with extra sweet lemonade and book after book.
Your aunt would have her old radio playing with records or cassette tapes, volume turned up so loud you’d be out climbing a tree a quarter mile off and could still hear the sounds of Credence Clearwater Revival or Stevie Nicks crooning over the distance. When the sun would begin to dip in the sky, oranges and pinks coloring in where it was bright blue just before, she’d change the record to Bill Withers or maybe even Louis Armstrong and she’d call you in by screaming at the top of her lungs that it was time to eat. But when you’d arrive she’d pull you into her arms and dance with you and tell you how important it was to read, write, dance, and love.
And everything she did and the way she lived her life had the biggest influence on yours these days. She had been your favorite person, next to your mother of course. But your mother died when you were 17 and your aunt filled in to help raise you when your dad was overwhelmed with the loss of his wife and trying to reign in a hormonal and emotional young woman. He tried his best but you knew it was lucky your aunt stepped up to help guide you into adulthood.
So it came as almost no surprise to anyone when your aunt passed and she left you everything she had. At the time you didn’t realize she had so much. At the reading of the will, it was just you and your father. The lawyer said you’d be inheriting her estate and every dime she had to her name. But when he read off the number, well, that part very much came as a surprise.
It was a life-changing number. And her old, huge house set on 16 acres in that old, small town was worth far more than you ever imagined it would be. You were advised to sell it at first. And you certainly considered it. What would you be needing with so much space all by yourself so far away from the big city you currently lived in? That money could just be piled on top of the already large sum she’d left you.
But the more you considered selling it the more you hated that idea. All the wonderful memories you had there, all that gorgeous space with expanses of marble and hardwood and tall trees and meadowland could be a sanctuary. It could be a place for you to live. To enjoy the large space, tall ceilings, and windows, the sunrises and sunsets… To play music loudly and dance in front of your oven as you baked muffins and write to your heart’s content.
It could certainly be far better than your studio apartment that cost nearly as much in rent as what you made working your ass off at the paper. You could move out of your rundown, mouse-infested building and fix up the old estate to your liking. You could quit your job and begin writing full-time like you always wanted. Your aunt’s house would be the perfect place to begin your new adventure. A refuge of peace. An oasis of your own to spark inspiration and creativity.
And so here you were, standing with the key in hand on the big front porch, old, rotted boards bending and cracking as you stepped up to the door to open it for the first time in years. When your aunt had fallen sick, she’d been transferred to the city to live with your father as she was unable to care for herself during the end of her life. You helped as often as possible. On Saturdays, you’d take her to the park to sit on the bench and watch the birds and the trees and you’d chat about the books you were reading and life. You did that every Saturday until she could no longer be moved from her bed. But you were always with her every Saturday, by her side and holding her hand until she had no more Saturdays left.
You felt a surge of emotion as you walked through the space. The old funky vintage chandelier that hung over the dining table was covered in cobwebs. When your aunt had it installed you helped her paint the little ceramic flowers in various shades of green and yellow. It had been all white at one time.
But it was the window that stretched along the wall that overlooked the back acreage that drew you closer. Pulling the dusty curtains aside, sunshine filled the room. Sheets covered the furniture that had all been left behind.
The whole place was yours. And you had a great feeling about this next phase in your life.
. . .
After a week of cleaning, working in the garden, peeling wallpaper down, having a new refrigerator and oven range installed as well as a washer and dryer for clothes, and attempting to tear out wooden boards from the front porch all by yourself, you’d hit a wall. It was clear you’d need help to get the house in tip-top shape.
Scouring the internet for handyman recommendations, you were left feeling quite hopeless. So you made a trip into town to talk to the owner of the hardware shop you met some days earlier when you were buying paint and tools. He had mentioned he knew someone who could help if you ever needed. A local man who took over his father’s business. You imagined there weren’t a lot of people willing to make the trip out to the small town and then even further out to the old house miles from the main road.
When you arrived, as you expected, the place was empty aside from Mr. George shuffling about behind the counter. When he spotted you his face lit up in a grin, “Miss Y/n! How can I help you this Thursday morning?”
“Hi, Mr. George. I was uh, wondering if I could get the number of that handyman you were telling me about? I think I’ve done all I can do by myself at this point. Some of the electricity needs rewiring, the boards in the porch are rotting away–“
“Say no more, my dear. I’ll call him right now,” he placed his hand over the phone receiver, “We’ll see if he can make some time today or tomorrow and if not, I’ll bet he can fit you in next week for a quote.”
“Next week?” You frowned.
“Well, he’s the only one who runs the business these days. His pop passed away a couple of months back so I’m assuming he might be a bit busy. Good guy, though. I wouldn’t recommend him if I didn’t think he’d do your aunt’s place justice.”
You nodded. That would have to be good enough you supposed. If not this week, next week you figured would be okay. Things were different in the small town than they were back in the big city. Life moved a bit slower and that was something you would just have to get used to.
Mr. George dialed the number he pulled up from his desktop Rolodex as you patiently waited to find out if the recommended handyman would be interested in helping you or not.
“Harry! My boy! How are you?” Mr. George spoke into the receive with a big smile.
“Yeah… I’m well too. Hey, look,” he glanced at you, “I’ve got a lovely young woman here who needs some help with her new house… yes. It’s that old mansion off Timbert. The one about a two miles from the main road… exactly. Gayla’s old place… It’s her niece, uh,” he cupped the receiver and looked at you with his brows raised as you spoke your name to him, “her name is Y/n.”
Seemed everyone in this town knew your aunt. You watched George scribble down something on a piece of scrap paper before sliding it over to you and began to make a little small talk with the man called Harry.
It was a number and the name of the company, Styles and Son. Mr. George pointed at the paper, and looked at you, “Write your number down here for me.”
You picked up the pen he used and wrote your number with your first and last name next to it, handing the paper back to him.
Mr. George tore off the section with your number and nodded at you, “Okay, ready for the number?”
He read it off to Harry before looking at you and holding out the receiver, “Wants to ask you a couple of questions.”
“Oh, sure,” you reached for the phone and stepped closer to the counter so you could put it to your ear, “Hello?”
“Hi. You’re Gayla’s niece?”
“Yes, sir. She recently passed and left the house to me and I wanted to fix it up a little.”
“My dad used to help Gayla out whenever she needed things done. I’ve never had the opportunity to see the inside but I’d like to come by maybe tomorrow afternoon when you have an hour or so to spare?”
“Sure! I’ll be home all day. Any time works for me.”
“Great. Let’s say around 2? I’ll give you a call before I head that way. George gave me your phone number, and make sure he gives you mine.”
“Oh yeah. He already did. I’ve got it written down here.”
“M’kay… well, I’ll see you tomorrow Y/n.”
“Sure! And thank you again!”
Mr. George took the phone from you and placed it into its cradle to hang up the call, “You know… Harry’s a single man. Bout your age. My wife says he’s a looker and I reckon you two might get along well.”
“Is that so?” You grinned at the store owner as you folded up Harry’s contact info and stuffed it into your pocket, “Appreciate this, Mr. George. So much. Truly.”
“Ahh, it’s nothin’. This small town is a close-knit community. We’re all here to help each other when we can.”
. . .
Instead of calling you, Harry texted when he was on his way over.
See you in half an hour. H
You smiled at the thought of finally getting some help in that big lonely house. Wiping the sweat from your forehead you climbed down the step ladder to freshen up a bit before Harry could arrive. You slid on a clean cotton dress, washed your hands and face, and then made some lemonade should he want anything to drink.
When Harry arrived you heard his truck clonking up the dirt driveway before you saw it. He’d been your first visitor so it was the first time you’d had the pleasure of hearing a vehicle driving toward your house (and didn’t it feel so weird to call it your house?). You watched out the window as dust kicked up from his tires. It was a big black truck. A decal on the side that read Styles and Son.
Walking onto your porch you waved to greet him as he stepped out, feet landing on the ground. His attire was simple. Jeans and a white t-shirt with a pocket at the front. Work boots. But what you couldn’t get over as he smiled and raised his big hand to wave back at you was how fit and broad he was. Tanned skin on his arms and tattoos up the length of one of them. Chestnut curls with touches of light brown and maybe blond hidden in the strands. He was tall and he was handsome.
“Y/n?” He smiled as he walked up the steps to your porch with his eyes on you. Green eyes.
“Yes! I’m Y/n,” you reached your hand out to him as he gripped it into his palm to shake.
“Nice to meet you. I’ve always wanted to check out Gayla’s house. Glad I’ve got the opportunity,” he looked down at the boards under his feet, “And first thing is,” he bent down and placed the heel of his palm into the wood, “this porch needs updating in a bad way.” He stood back up, soft green irises on you, “Feel how soft that is when you step over it?” He spoke as he demonstrated, pressing his foot into the floor of the porch.
You nodded, “Oh yeah. I already tore some of the boards out but I knew I couldn’t do all this on my own.”
Harry squinted at you and the way his eyes scraped down over your dress and to your feet then back up to your face had you tingling, “You tore out some boards on your own?” He nodded with an impressed look on his face.
Now you were feeling flustered. The sudden shift in temperature made it feel like your cotton panties were digging into your hips and your thighs too tight.
You laughed and shook your head, “Oh… I mean it wasn’t much. But…” you looked back up at him and watched as a lopsided smile took over his face, complete with a dimple, “You wanna come inside? See the place?”
“Absolutely.”
You pushed the front door in and let Harry pass through into the space. You watched him look all around and then walk toward the big front window and slide his hand over the wood frame, “Beautiful woodwork here,” he looked up toward the ceiling and then along the wall toward the archway into the dining area, “It looks like it’s probably throughout the house. We’ll be sure to keep this original,” he looked at you suddenly, “Unless you wanted to completely change all this. It’s up to you but I would suggest trying to maintain the existing features.”
“I would love to keep it original if possible. So… are you saying you’ll do this for me?”
Harry chuckled and ran his index finger under his nose, “Soon as I saw the place as I drove up the path to get here had my heart set on it. Of course, we’ll need to talk numbers and come to an agreement but I’m ready to start as soon as possible. What’s the electricity situation? Original too?” He looked up at the light sconce on the wall.
“I think it’s all original. Everything. Most likely all needs overhauled to bring it up to code. So… you don’t have other jobs you are committed to right now? Thought you were the only one?”
Harry raised his brows and looked back at you, “Hired a helper a couple weeks back. He can do all the odd jobs for me while I focus on this. Honestly, Y/n,” you scorched at the way he said your name so casually, “There ain’t tons of work around here. I usually have one or two small jobs a day. Garbage disposal repair, sodding a yard, shingle repair… we do bigger jobs too like tree stump removal, burst pipes, and things like that. One-offs usually.”
“Tree stump removal… you do all that?”
He nodded, “Yep. I do it all. Got the equipment from when my father was running the business. My dad and I were the only ones in town to do all this kind of stuff so we learned how to do just about everything.”
You showed Harry around the rest of the house and described what you thought you might want done. But watching Harry slide his hands over your baseboards and knock at the walls as he talked about what he’d do… you smiled and agreed with everything he said.
“I do want the wallpaper out, though. It’s a little too dated for my taste,” you ran your finger over the silk flower design wall covering and Harry put his palm over the wall and nodded, “We could look at other wallpaper if you wanted. Or were you just thinking paint?”
You bit your lip and leaned into the wainscoting, “Maybe a new wallpaper? What do you think is better?”
Harry mimicked your pose, placing his hip on the white wainscoting, and faced you, “There are some really high-quality wallpapers out there. In any pattern you can think of. Can also get them custom-made if you had the money for it. I’d get the wallpaper if I were you.”
You nodded, “I’ll be honest, Harry, my aunt left me a good bit of money and I’d like to restore the place with really nice quality things and finishes. Want it to look as beautiful here as it did the day it was built. I’m not too worried about how much it’ll all cost. Within reason of course.”
Harry pushed himself from the wall and clasped his hands together behind his back, “I’m really sorry for your loss by the way. Was a shock to everyone when we found out she passed.”
You nodded, “Yeah. I always thought she’d live forever. Spent so many summers here with her, climbing trees and dancing… just feels so weird that she’s gone now,” a small smile covered your face, “But also, I’m sorry to hear about your dad too. His recent passing.”
The smile fell from Harry’s face, “Did George tell you he passed?”
“He did. I’m sorry if bringing that up wasn’t–“
“No, it’s fine. I was about to tell you anyway. Hence the name of the business, Styles and Son. I’m the son part of it,” he grinned, “But yeah. He died and I took over the business. It’s been a struggle. I miss him but I think he’d be really pleased that I was getting the chance to fix this old place up.”
You offered Harry some lemonade and you both sat on the back porch together as you discussed what you wanted done first with the house. Of course, Harry already had a solid timeline in mind, he’d start with the electrical wiring and the rotten boards on the porch and make sure everything was up to code and safe before getting to the more superficial parts of the job. The garden and landscaping would come last.
Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.
“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”
You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.
Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.
But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.
And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.
You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.
Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.
“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”
“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”
He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”
You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”
Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”
You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”
“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.
When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.
“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.
Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”
You sighed and nodded, “Yeah. I’ll get it. You don’t have to do all this. I promise I’m fine. Just need to kind of wake up I think.”
Harry nodded, “Okay. I’ll get back to work out there. Gonna be some loud hammering and noises for a while.”
You cleaned yourself up and put actual clothes on before making coffee and bringing a hot mug out to Harry on a tray. This time, you carefully placed your steps around the boards and scanned the porch to see open spaces and nails in a tin next to fresh boards.
Harry was crouched along the railing and prying a board from its spot when he looked up at you.
“Coffee? Wasn’t sure if you take it with sugar or cream… Or maybe you just want tea?” You placed the tray down as he stood up.
“That’s really nice of you. Thank you. I would love some coffee. Black is fine.”
He took the mug by its handle and brought it up to his lips to take a sip.
“And if you’re hungry I could make you something?” You watched him gulp down the hot liquid.
Shaking his head he grinned at you, “Maybe lunch in a few hours. I ate breakfast already. But you don’t need to go out of your way to make anything. I can go into town for a sandwich, which is what I usually do.”
“Oh no. I’ll make you something for lunch! I insist! I love the company anyway. That way you can kind of relax instead of driving back and forth just to eat. Unless you want to get away for a bit. I mean…” you started rambling. You couldn’t help yourself. Harry’s biceps were on full display as he lifted the mug up to his mouth again and you could just feel your own mouthwatering at the sight. You hadn’t seen a man so attractive in a long time. All the city guys you dated were nice enough… but then there was Harry. Tall with broad shoulders and lean muscle all over, deep pink lips and light green eyes… and dimples… and he was handy? God, you weren’t sure how long you could go before you started to become obvious about how much you enjoyed letting your irises rove over his frame. That is if it wasn’t already obvious.
He watched you go on and on about lunch and then offer up other suggestions with a small smile on his face until you stopped when you realized you were yammering, “Sorry.”
“You okay?” He grinned. He knew you were fine. But he did wonder if you were flustered because of him or if that was how you just were.
“I’m fine. Sorry. Get kind of long-winded sometimes. I’ll let you get to it. Um… if you do want me to make you lunch just let me know. And uh…” you paused and then realized you were about to start yapping again, “I’ll get out of your hair.”
“Y/n,” Harry’s deep voice was soft as he spoke your name and you turned to look back at him, “Take a breath. It’s okay. We’ll have lunch together in a few hours. Yeah?”
You puffed out a breathy laugh and nodded before heading back inside with the tray that had sugar and milk atop.
You hadn’t considered it until then. Until you were placing the small crystal lid back onto the sugar bowl and putting the milk back into the refrigerator that your sudden burst of inspiration for the story you were working on was thanks to your handsome handyman. It also felt really good to have someone else there with you. Not that you didn’t feel safe there alone, but just having another presence near you was comforting.
And when you began to make up a lunch, something you hoped he’d like (you had to stop yourself from asking him if he’d want cucumbers and white cheese on his sandwich and just trust that it would be fine) you couldn’t help but peek out your window at him as he pounded his hammer down and wiped the sweat from his brow. His shirt was a bit damp as the sun was rising in the sky and the temperature with it.
Which then reminded you to plug in a fan so he could cool off while he ate with you. You set up the kitchen table and plugged in a fan to have it on for him as you both ate your sandwiches. As well as iced lemonade and chopped cherry tomatoes with basil and olive oil.
It was noon on the dot when you opened the door and poked your head out, “Lunch is ready if you’re hungry.”
Harry placed his hammer down and pushed himself up to stand as he nodded, “Thank you. Mind if I use the bathroom before?”
“Harry, you can use anything you want in the house. Feel free to come inside when you please. You don’t have to ask.”
“Well, thank you, Y/n. I appreciate it.”
You felt ridiculous as you paced your kitchen in wait for Harry to come in so you two could begin. The silly thoughts you had in your head about him had your heart lobbing around in your chest a bit too fast. You could just imagine (in the deepest little fantasy spot in your brain) that he’d take one bite of your sandwich and be so overcome by you that he’d have the sudden urge to lift you onto the table, push your dress up, and take you right there, knocking the lemonade down and forgetting all about the cherry tomatoes.
“Wow. This looks excellent. And you’re joining me?” He smiled as he stepped into the kitchen, his eyes on the table.
“Oh, it’s nothing,” you shrugged as you pulled a chair out for him, just in the path of the fan, “And if it’s okay, though I could have some with you. Keep you company. Unless I’m annoying you…”
Harry laughed and shook his head as he took his seat, “You’re the furthest thing from annoying, Y/n. In fact, I quite like talking to you. Sit,” he gestured at the spot where you’d placed your own plate with the sandwich. “The fan is a nice touch too. See, you’re just about the sweetest person I’ve ever worked for and it’s only been a few hours.”
You felt the skin on your cheeks heat up as you sat down in the wooden chair and looked at Harry. You really really tried not to look at him like that. But you could feel it oozing out of you as you batted your lashes and tilted your head down, your eyes still on him. You couldn’t help it!
And he saw it clear as day too. Grinning at you he took the glass of lemonade and gulped down about half as he watched you blink your eyes and then remove your gaze from his down to your plate.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he said as he placed the glass down and picked up his sandwich.
“You’re welcome, Harry.”
. . .
Harry didn’t take days off. He was at your house at 8 am sharp every morning and every day you were sure to make him a big lunch and chat with him a bit. But every day you fell further and further into a little spiral of want and lust. It was ridiculous but he wasn’t doing anything to dampen the way you felt.
Like after one lunch, he took his thumb and wiped the mustard from the edge of your mouth so nonchalantly you felt your knees give out and he had to help steady you. But you didn’t miss his smirk. Like he knew just what he was doing.
Or the time when you were walking from your bathroom to your kitchen after a shower and he’d gone out to buy supplies so you thought you were alone but instead walked past the huge window in only your underwear and bra as you were talking to yourself. Yapping away about whatever in your panties as you turned to the sink to wash some dishes but then yelped when you saw him standing there looking in, an expression of surprise on his face.
You had never run so fast in your life up to your room to put something on. And you should have known better. What was wrong with you? Of course, you were quite absent-minded at times, but that was something on another level.
But then it happened again that he saw you in only your skivvies as you traipsed to your bathroom and had forgotten that he was rewiring the second-floor hallway lights.
“Hey, sweetheart… just wanted to remind you that I’m here,” his voice startled you and you balked as you apologized and shut the bathroom door with a loud slam.
“Sorry, Harry!” You apologized again with your heart rapidly thudding behind your ribcage.
You could hear his voice through the bathroom door, “Don’t need to apologize. Doesn’t offend me. Just wanted to remind you I was here is all – in case you weren’t keen on me seeing you in your knickers.”
And Harry was like that. So gentle and thoughtful and there was the tiniest bit of flirtatiousness there too. Which really kept you on your toes around him. Made you feel all hot and gooey. Maybe if he didn’t grin at you the way he did or if he didn’t wipe mustard from your lips or call you sweetheart or compliment you as often you wouldn’t feel that tension there all the time.
But he did and so you did.
Which then led to you working up the nerve to start asking him to say for dinner. He’d sit in your kitchen after using your shower to clean up and watch (you insisted he didn’t help) as you made something for the both of you to eat.
At first, he didn’t stay every evening for dinner because he wanted to get home to clean up and you didn’t want to push and make it seem like you were needy for his company.
But soon, after suggesting he just use your shower, it was every night, and he began to bring a change of clothes so he could clean up before eating. And it felt like you were in some kind of bizarre relationship. Or, that’s what you pretended in your mind anyway. And it was fodder for your writing so you played into the fantasy a little bit.
Of course, there were also all the times you caught him with his shirt off. By the time he began working inside the house summer was in full swing and the place had no central air conditioning so it could get rather hot inside.
And it wasn’t just that you caught him with his shirt off… it was that he caught you staring while he was sans shirt, a sheen of sweat on his chest and at the nape of his neck, muscles flexing and tensing as he labored to make your house gorgeous and well-functioning.
Harry Styles was sexy. He was kind. He was charming and funny. He was smart. And you wanted him. Wanted him in a bad way.
And the days and weeks that drew on that feeling and that lust did not falter. No, it only widened and grew strong, steady thick roots into the ground and became fortified and strengthened with every little bit of contact you had with him. You wanted him so badly you could taste it. Feel it. Smell it.
“Let me get it!” He scoffed at you as he pulled the lid from the pot that was boiling over while you were chopping the tomatoes. You told him to stay seated because you wanted him to rest, that you’d get the boiling pot. He’d worked so hard that day (as he always did) and you knew he must be tired. But he dipped the spoon into the bubbling water and turned down the burner to lower the heat for you.
“I can help, Y/n. I know you’re just being sweet cause you think I’m all tuckered but I don’t mind. Really.”
You smiled as you sliced into the tomato, “Okay. I just want to make sure you’re not working extra. You work so hard every day and I feel like this is the least I can do for you.”
Harry pushed a soft laugh out through his nose as he placed the lid back onto the pot, “The least you could do is pay me for my work. And that you already do. This,” he gestured around the kitchen, “Is above and beyond. Not that I’m complaining.”
“Well, I just… I feel like we’re friends now and feels strange to send you home after,” you glanced at him to see that he was leaning his hip into the counter watching you in that way that he often looked at you. The one that made your skin sizzle.
When he didn’t respond you glanced at him again, “There’s a bottle of wine if you want to share? I think it’ll go really nicely with this dish.”
Harry pursed his lips and nodded, “Trying to get me drunk, sweetheart?”
You chuckled in surprise and shook your head, “Of course not!” Placing the knife down you turned to him, “I was only just suggesting it if you want. I mean… you don’t have to. I didn’t think a glass would be all that bad–“
“I’m teasing. It’s okay. I’ll have some wine with you,” he laughed at the way you suddenly bristled, “Where’s the wine opener? I’ll pour us both a glass.”
The wine turned out to be the perfect accompaniment for the pasta dish you’d made. But you knew it would be. In fact, you’d gone into town the night before to the olive oil and wine shop and selected the wine for that exact purpose after asking the owner what she thought. You weren’t sure if he’d like wine or not but you liked wine and it was a really nice bottle. Which you could afford now that you had a bit of money to your name.
And Harry agreed it was good as he poured you both another glass after you’d both finished your plates.
“So what are you writing anyway?” Harry asked as he leaned back in his chair and set his eyes on you.
“It’s a romance. You wouldn’t be into it I’m sure,” you shrugged as you sipped your wine.
“Why are you so sure I wouldn’t be into it? I love romance.”
“Oh. I guess men aren’t usually my target audience or prospective target audience… I haven’t actually published anything. Sorry… I shouldn’t assume I guess.”
“Tell me what it’s about.”
You cleared your throat and shook your head, “Oh… it’s not done. I’m kind of too bashful to talk about it just yet.”
Harry leaned his elbows onto the table and kept his gaze on you, “Oh come on… Tell me. I won’t judge. I want to know what kind of story you’ve been working on. And then I’ll tell you a secret of my own. How’s that sound?”
You sat your glass of wine down and licked your lips as you let your pupils take in his pretty lips, “Uh… fine…” you sighed and smiled. You wouldn’t tell him the whole thing but perhaps you could just make it brief. “It’s about a woman who takes on a new adventure in life and she meets a man unexpectedly and he helps her kind of navigate her new life… uh… like they have this unspoken connection and feel quite comfortable with one another off the bat. And it leads to a whirlwind romance that ends happily ever after.”
Harry tilted his head to the side and stitched his brows together, “Y/n…” Harry spoke your name as if he were about to scold you, “Give me some detail. What kind of new adventure is this woman taking?”
You looked up at the ceiling and felt your neck heat up. If you told him the premise he’d figure out you were basically writing a story that was a fantasy version of what you and Harry were doing.
But you didn’t want to lie and you could just tell him to drop it but you didn’t want to do that either. So you gulped down the saliva in your throat and laughed as you looked at him, “She inherits a gorgeous old house from a family member with all the money she’d need to hire a man to help her restore the place.”
The pleased look on his face had you looking away from him and down at your empty plate in full embarrassment.
“I see. So you’ve had some real-life inspiration since moving in here then.”
You nodded, a small laugh falling from your lips, “Yeah.”
“And this man helping her restore the old house? He’s the one she has her whirlwind, happy-ending romance with?”
You put your hands over your face, “Oh my god. I mean… yes. It’s just inspiration, though… like it wasn’t–“
Your words were cut off when you heard his chair scrape over the wooden floors and felt his hand at your back, “You don’t need to explain yourself. It’s just a story. Wanna hear my secret now? Level out the playing field a bit here.”
You pulled your hands away from your face and looked at him. He was sitting right next to you, so close you could see the pores on his nose as he offered you a dimpled grin. His hand gently rubbed at your back.
“Level out the playing field?”
His soft grin deepened as he slid his pupils down to your lips, “Yeah. You told me something that’s kind of a secret. If you want me to tell you a secret I will… kind of make it even.”
You swallowed with a nod as he moved his eyes over the expanse of your face and it felt like warmth seeping into your skin.
“See… So here’s the thing…” he paused to make sure you were paying attention, “I’ve been working for this insanely sweet-as-pie woman for a couple of months now. Just falling in love with every corner of the house that I touch… getting fed fruit and coffee every morning, sandwiches in the afternoon with lemonade and a fan to help cool me down, and then lately it’s spread into dinner… just me and her eating together in her kitchen, talking about nothing and everything as the sun goes down and then I go home at night alone and find myself unable to stop thinking about her and the way she laughs and the way I catch her staring at me when I’ve sweat through my shirt…”
You were holding your breath as he spoke and it was making your head fuzzy and your heart thud and your skin light up as he slowly worked his hand up to the back of your neck, fingers grazing the skin… it felt like you were watching a movie play out before you. Like it wasn’t real.
“And I think to myself… what if she feels the same way about me that I feel about her? Ya know? I mean I’ve seen the way she looks at me. That can’t be an accident. And she’s even started to ask me to stay even later after dinner to have dessert and even though my stomach is always stuffed full of the food she’s fed me and I couldn’t imagine eating another thing I’m always tempted to stay a little longer with her. Just to see where it goes,” the pad of his finger worked up your neck as you turned your gaze down to your hand on the table, “To find out if her dessert is just as tasty as everything else she’s offered me. And of course, I have no doubt that it would be.”
You stayed quiet. You couldn’t believe he’d just said all that. Like he was reading your story and knew what you wanted to happen next. Slowly you brought your gaze back to his and spoke shakily, “Harry…”
“You want me to stay for dessert tonight, Y/n?” You could feel the brush of his thumb along one side of your throat and the press of the pads of his fingers gently on the other side, palm flat against the back of your neck. And that question. It meant more than what he said and you both knew it.
“Yes. If you want,” you swallowed and kept your eyes on his face as he lowered his gaze to your mouth again. His hand at the back of your neck tensed and you could feel him pulling at you, just the last few inches needed to brush his lips against yours in a tentative move, allowing you to breach the space completely, moving in and pressing your mouth firmly against his.
And it was everything. Warm and soft and wet and then he inhaled sharply and opened his mouth to paint his tongue over your lips and you responded in kind, using your tongue against his and you felt his free hand pull at your hip. You smoothed your hands up his strong arms and to his shoulders and your heart felt full and light all at the same time.
When you felt the fine hairs at the nape of his neck under your fingers he shifted and pulled at you, both hands gripping your hips and bringing you up out of your chair and placing your bottom on the sturdy wood of the kitchen table, the plates pushed to the side and your nearly empty glass of wine wobbled in its spot as he kept his mouth over yours and he fit himself between your legs.
“Always wearing pretty skirts and dresses for me, aren’t you?” His lips traveled down your jaw and pressed over the skin on your pulse point, “Been teasing me this whole time…” slow pecks down to your clavicle and then back up the other side of your neck as he planted his palms flat onto the table next to your thighs, “Just know you wanted me to see you in your panties all those times… acted all innocent like you didn’t know you were giving me a show…”
You gasped when you felt his teeth gently scrap at your jaw before pushing plush pink lips over the same spot, “Harry…” you breathed out his name.
“Mmm… love how you say my name too,” he spoke as he moved his mouth back over yours and it was game over. Teeth and tongues, and wet lips with moans as he slid a thumb under the hem of your dress to glide up your thigh. He pressed himself in further, making you lay back on the table, your saltshaker and napkin holder tipping over as he ran his hands up your sides.
“Is this what you wanted? All this time, Y/n?”
You moaned as he began to pepper his kisses down your neck once again, your body lighting up with every touch and whisper into your skin.
“Yes…”
“Yeah,” he looked up at you with his hands firm around your waist before he moved them down to push at your skirt, shoving the material up your thighs, “And what about this? Is this what you want too?”
You pushed yourself up by your elbows and nodded, “Yeah…”
Harry grinned as his fingers found your panties and he tucked his middle fingers into the band, “Wanna give me my dessert now?”
His light jade eyes were sparkling as he waited for your nod of approval, the small yes you peeped out had him tearing your panties down your legs, left to drape off your left foot as he pushed your thighs apart and moaned, “It’s the only dessert I’ve wanted since you first started offering. Smells so good too,” he dropped his mouth to the inside of your plush thigh and ran his big palms upward on the underside of your thighs to press your legs back and you gurgled a moan as you watched him dip down and tongue at your pussy, his wet muscle slicking upward from your entrance to your clit and then repeated, and repeated, over and over as he kept his eyes on yours until you were so slick he was barely making contact with your skin… your arousal had coated your pussy and his tongue in a thick layer.
“Fuck me… sweetheart… you’re gonna give me a toothache with all this sweet juice…” he spoke mindlessly as he lapped at you. He brought a hand down to your pussy, running his fingers through your crease as he pressed his tongue to your clit and kissed it, bringing it delicately into his mouth with a gentle slurp.
“Ahh! Harry!” You reached down to pull at his hair as your back arched up and your head fell back into the wood.
The moment Harry felt your grip on his hair he spread your pussy with his fingers and drove a digit inside, curling it in and brushing against the spot you loved to focus on when you fingered yourself, making your body shiver.
Your table was rattling from the movements you were making, the lewd act causing the wooden legs to shift and give slightly as Harry ate your pussy and moaned at your taste.
“Gonna let me have some every night now?” His words came out watery, and slurred as he continued working to get you off, “Gonna let me take care of you the way you’ve been taking care of me?”
You cried out in a gurgle when you felt another finger press inside as he flattened his tongue over your pussy, “Yes!”
Harry grinned into your pussy. Seemed all you could say at that point was a combination of yes and Harry. He loved how you were responding to him. Like it was all you ever wanted.
When he felt you roll your hips up and grind into his mouth he pressed your thigh down and dug in harder, flicking his eyes up at you from time to time, watching the way your chest rose and fell heavy, how your lips were dropped wide open with your eyes closed.
“Y’shaking so hard, sweetheart. You can come if you need to,” he slid his fingers into the last knuckle and back out as he spoke, lips grazing your wet clit as he did so, “You’ve been so good to me, you deserve a treat too…”
Your brain was in a fog, a haze that made it hard to hear or make sense of his words as your orgasm tiptoed its way through your tummy and down into your core, slowly sliding its way through your organs until it burst out of you and your limbs stiffened as you pressed Harry’s face into your pussy and moaned his name so loudly Harry figured it was a good thing you didn’t have any neighbors close by to hear what could sound like someone being attacked.
But in a way, you were being attacked. Harry’s lips and his tongue and his fingers ravaged you through your orgasm, never letting up or stopping until you gasped and pushed at him as you sat up with wet lips, burning cheeks, and dark eyes, “Oh god, Harry!”
The dirty smirk on his face was pure sex as he pulled his fingers out of your sticky pussy and slid you from the table, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carried you to your room, his mouth on yours.
You began to squeak in protest as he lifted you and started up the stairs and you were certain it was too much weight or that he’d drop you but he was solid and strong and moved with ease, holding you tight under your bottom with one hand and his other at your mid back until he laid you on your bed with a bounce.
Harry began to pull his jeans down his strong legs and you watched as he undressed. It was the first time you’d seen his bottom half but just as his chest and shoulders and abs did not disappoint, neither did his masculine, well-muscled thighs and buttocks. The man was in incredible shape, thanks to good genes and hard manual labor you assumed.
When Harry peeled his shirt off over his head, the curls were pushed upward and he was left standing in your bedroom looking like a man ready to ransack your body with wild hair, tight boxer briefs hiding an erection that looked quite sizable.
Silently he kneed onto the bed between your legs and pushed your dress out of the way, “Let me see you, sweetheart. Is that okay?”
You helped him bring the dress off over your head and immediately reached up to unpluck your bra, the clasp at the front that once undone had your tits bursting out.
“Holy, fuck…” Harry dove down to your breasts, lapping and squeezing at each one and you placed your fingers back into his hair as if it were their new home. The length was perfect to grip onto.
He pushed himself up as he cupped your tits together and kept his eyes on your flesh and nipples with mouth dropped open, “Goddamn, sweetheart…” He dipped down again, wetting the skin all around your breasts with his lips and tongue until you bucked upward and your wet pussy kissed his belly button.
Popping off from your nipple he looked down at you underneath his large frame and smoothed his hands down your sides and over your tummy then to your hips. He thumbed at your clit and looked up at you, not an ounce of humor on his face, “I can eat your pussy all night. Want my mouth again?” He licked his lips.
“Want to feel it, Harry…” you breathed out.
“Want to feel my mouth again?”
You moaned and slid your palm down his chest and felt the bit of hair on his pecs tickle your skin, “Your cock.”
“Is that right? Sweetheart wants her handyman to stuff her full tonight?” Now you could see the small smirk on his face as he looked at your tits and then back up to your eyes.
“I want you to stuff me full, Harry. I want to feel it.”
Harry wet his lips again as he moaned at your words and tore his boxer briefs down his thighs and to the floor.
He sat back onto his haunches, eyes on yours as he held himself at his base. His thick ruddy tip smooth and ready to pierce into your cunt had you groaning, “Please.”
“You wanna be my girl, Y/n? Be mine? Cause I don’t fuck unless I know I can keep coming back. I don’t do casual, sweetheart.”
You shook your head, “I don’t either. I’ll be yours. Your girl.”
“You sure? You want to date a small-town handyman, make me dinner every night, and get fucked into this soft bed until you’re passed out?”
“Oh my god, Harry,” you moaned and nodded, “Yes. Please…”
Harry scooted in toward you, and his massive cock was just throbbing before your eyes. That thing was going to do some damage to you but you would happily receive it. Take it every night like he said, looked forward to feeling how much he’d fill you up and how deep he’d get, how much it’d ache when he pounded into you.
His hand slid behind your neck, fingers wrapping around the back side as he hovered over you, “Pussy’s so little, sweetheart. Might need to hold on at first okay?”
The dimple popping into his cheek told you he was playing with you. And while, yes, he was quite large, that bulbous tip and thick shaft would definitely be felt entering you, there was no question it’d tuck nicely into your slippery walls.
You gripped his biceps as you kept your eyes focused on his. He glided his fat tip through your pussylips with the slushy wet sound of your arousal coating his cock, drenching his leaking slit until he was sticking the crown at your opening, his lips parted as he pressed into your muscle and penetrated you slowly.
“Mmm… fuck me, sweetheart,” his voice was hiked up a notch in a whine as he clenched his teeth upon entry, “Y’mine now? Yeah?”
You nodded and whimpered, “Harry… oh god I’m yours…”
Harry nodded with you, his eyes focused on your face as he opened you up, and spread you apart inch by inch. When he’d gotten in halfway he reared himself back, that wide tip sliding out of your cunt just before he pressed himself back in, nudging in deeper. The intrusion was all-consuming. Harry’s hard cock was long and thick. But of course, it was. A man like him with a body like that… But it was his demeanor that had tipped you off at the beginning that he had a big dick. That personality that oozed with natural confidence.
“Oh, my fuck!” You wailed as he drove into you again, this time with a bit of force that had his hips grinding into yours.
“Yeah? It’s big in there isn’t it? Need me to be gentle?”
You could just see it in his eyes. He did not want to be gentle. The man above you, fucking into you was holding himself back. He was taking it easy for your sake. But you wanted him to ruin you. Wanted your pussy wrecked by that thick cock, needed to let him have his way with your body so he could get off.
“No… fuck me like you want. Harry…” you whimpered his name as you cupped his jaw, stubble scraping your palm as he slowly thrust into you, “Make me yours. Show me how you do it.” You wanted to feel his strength. Wanted to know what it felt like to have him completely destroy your pussy.
Harry let out a deep groan then hissed as he ground into your cunt, his cock grazing that achy spot deep inside that you knew was gonna be bruised once he was done with you, “Don’t want to hurt your cute little pussy, Y/n. Can already feel I’m in as deep as I can go.”
“Harry, make me yours. Please.”
“Fuck…” he gritted out as he adjusted his knee placement, lifting himself with his thighs and readying his position to rail into you like you wanted. He pulled your hands up and placed your palms onto his lats as he leaned over you, “Hold on here. Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”
You gripped your fingers into the muscle of his back and felt him flexing as he drew his long cock back and bucked in with one harsh thrust. The wind nearly knocked from your lungs as he did it again. He was still taking it easy. Long heavy strokes into your guts, hips slapping into yours in thuds until he got into a rhythm and your high-pitched moans told him you were loving it.
Soon your bed was loudly creaking, the mattress springs bouncing heavy and his balls were whacking into your bum. Wet patting of skin colliding and heavy pants filled the room.
“Like this?” He gritted as his pelvis repeatedly smashed into your clit filling your veins with damp mushy heat as your pussy clamped over him.
“Fffffuuu…” you cried out. Not a word but an answer. You did like it. Every time he filled you to the brim with his fat cock and your pussy parted for him, spreading apart to accommodate his hefty girth it brought you closer and closer to the precipice.
Harry choked out a moan when he felt his own orgasm edge toward the brink slowly. The way you gripped around him, the perfect warm and wet hole attached to the sweetest thing he’d ever met made his heart thrash in his chest harshly.
He couldn’t believe that he was getting to fuck you. That you promised to be his. That things had worked out the way they had. Because he’d started falling for you since day one. He had been impressed that you wanted to salvage the old house and to him, that meant you were already special. A city girl with a heart of gold who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. And when you told him you ripped out some of the rotted boards from the porch on your own his cock twitched in his pants. The image in his mind of you doing that was hot.
And as the days and weeks went on he learned more about you and he became obsessed with making everything in the house just perfect for you. He often daydreamed of living in it with you. Getting to see you every day after work with a kid or two running around. While it was too early to think about all that, he couldn’t help it. Harry was a sincere and deeply emotional man who prized deep connections and love over everything. He’d never been able to do casual.
He was brought back to the moment when your face began to screw up in pleasure and your punched breaths began to grow into loud moans with every snap of his hips.
You, on the other hand, were thinking of nothing but that big cock sliding through your insides and ramming into your depths, your tummy aching at the stretch and the way he filled you so completely. Your brain was empty as he sliced through you, fucking you down into your soft blankets as his chest and arms and shoulders tensed.
“Ooohh, sweetheart… like that yeah? That what you need? Right there?”
Your arousal had dripped from your hole and drenched your ass and the blanket under you, your gushy wetness slopped out with every push of his cock into your pussy.
Harry could feel your thighs quivering and shaking as you started to arch into him, loud bursts of moans belted from your lungs on each plunge.
Harry was losing his mind at the noises you were making and how good you felt squeezing around him, “Gonna have to move myself in here so I can have you like this every day… look at you taking me so well… fucking creaming all over me…” his string of consciousness continued as he railed into you deeply and you felt your insides snap suddenly, your orgasm erasing all working thoughts from your brain.
“Yes! Fuuuuck! Yes! I need you!”
“Need you too, Y/n. I fucking need you baby… come all over me, show me how good that is… fuck… fuck…” Harry clenched his jaw as you squelched around him, your slippery hole clenching so hard you nearly pushed him out but he was stronger as he continued to pound into you, bringing you through your ecstasy until he couldn’t go another moment without coming.
He began unloading into you, heavy, thick pumps of come filled your insides as he coughed out a groan and stilled his hips with your pussy milking him, pussy fluttering and squeezing every drop from his long shaft. You’d both lost your good senses in that moment. No thought about what was responsible or reasonable, it was only about how good it felt to be connected, new lovers enjoying one another and not giving a damn about the consequences.
Harry’s mouth pressed into yours and he moaned sloppily against your wet lips, bodies throbbing and shaking and lungs gasping for air as you wrapped your legs around his waist and hummed in bliss.
Harry’s heart was going wild as he dropped his chest to yours and licked into your mouth, one final push of his cock into your cervix for good measure, pressing his come deeper yet.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out in a mumble as his lips still smeared against yours.
“I know…” he responded with his eyes closed as he continued kissing you.
Your fingers wound into his hair and he rolled you both to your sides, still connecting and simmering and reeling.
“I think now you have to stay,” you parted from the kiss and looked at him with a small smile. Hoping he’d agree to it. You weren’t ready to let him go home yet.
“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere. You’ll have to forcibly remove me from you now.”
You giggled and cupped his cheeks, “Good. Means you aren’t gonna be leaving then.”
Harry’s soft smile and his big hands on you felt like home. More than anything had before. The old house was your home, yes, but ever since Harry walked into your life you were a changed woman.
“So you’re mine now? Can I call you my girlfriend?”
You puffed out a laugh through your nose, “Of course. Long as I can call you my boyfriend.”
“Of course. Been dreaming about it since I first met you.”
You licked your lips, “Yeah? Guess we both wasted a lot of time beating around the bush didn’t we?”
Harry shook his head, “Nahh… we didn’t waste time. Every moment spent with you was exactly what was supposed to happen. Got to know you real well. Got to learn all kinds of things about you. I feel like the way it happened wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
You nodded and bit your lip. He was probably right. The time you two spent chatting and flirting and getting to know one another slowly made you both open up and feel more comfortable in each other’s presence. And it all led to that very moment right there in your bed.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen any other way.”
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pathologicalreid · 1 month
Note
You write fluff and flangst absolutely amazingly and I’m in awe every dang time!
Buuut since you’ve got spring break coming up, a little fic idea that’s in my head that I’ll never do justice! (If you’re interested)
Fem!reader finding out an adorable way to tell Spencer she’s pregnant. I don’t care if they’re dating or married or what - but like she puts together a crossword, or a puzzle and he just doesn’t get it. (If you wanna throw angst in, he leaves without getting it for a case and then realizes it in the middle of the night.)
puzzling | S.R.
trying to tell Spencer you're pregnant, but he's too concerned with your well-being to fill out your custom crossword puzzle
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: pregnancy and misc. symptoms., talk of fainting and blood tests. word count: 1.69k a/n: welcome back to the spencer reid dilf agenda! i hope this does your request justice and thank you for entrusting me with this idea!!!! <3
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you
It was your pride and joy, the collection of folded papers that sat on the kitchen counter, next to a cup of coffee that you had already filled for him.
On your fake newspaper, you had created a custom crossword puzzle. With four very important clues.
Across: “Early stage of life”
Across: “American actress Frances _”
Down: “Must be finished by”
Down: “Veteran’s Day month”
You smiled softly to yourself as you heard Spencer’s footsteps coming down the staircase. Padding over to the kitchen counter, you sat on one of the stools, a cup of tea in front of you.
Before he even looked at the newspaper, Spencer leaned over to kiss you good morning, “You look tired,” he whispered, hooking a finger under your chin as if he were investigating the dark circles underneath your eyes.
“Way to make a girl feel good about herself,” you teased lightly, even though you knew he was right. At least you felt tired.
He rolled his eyes, “You know that’s not what I meant.” Turning to grab his mug of coffee off of the counter, he observed you again, “Are you sure your doctor said nothing was wrong?”
Smiling, you gave him a brief nod. You had gone to see your doctor a few days ago for nausea and fatigue, and Spencer would’ve gone with you had he not been on the other side of the country on a case. “They’re running some tests, but they didn’t see anything blatantly wrong,” the doctor was running a few blood tests, checking your iron levels and HCG.
Using his free hand, Spencer reached over and moved a lock of hair out of your face, “They said your blood pressure was low?”
Low blood pressure, as it turned out, was a pregnancy symptom that was most common in the first trimester. “You’re freaking out over nothing, Spence,” you told him. Really, it was something. A rather large something – or small, depending on how you wanted to look at it. “Come on, it’s crossword time,” you told him, using the end of the pen to tap on the newspaper.
“I worry about you when I’m away. You do know that low blood pressure can cause syncope, right? Did they prescribe you anything for it?” He asked, ignoring your wishes to move on and do the crossword.
There was a small part of you that just wanted to tell him, but frankly, you had worked too hard on the crossword puzzle to give yourself away like that. You couldn’t tell him that they didn’t prescribe you anything because they didn’t know how far along you were. A larger part of you knew that if you just got him to work on the puzzle, he would have his answers in about seven minutes.
Then his phone rang, he pulled the device out of his pocket, and the Caller ID on the screen caused you to slump your shoulders forward. It was Garcia. “Hey Garcia,” he greeted on the phone, “at the tarmac?”
You set your head on the counter and sighed in defeat as Spencer hung up the phone.
“Are you alright?” He asked you softly, tenderly wrapping an arm around your torso.
Humming, you sat back up, ignoring the stars in your field of vision as you did so. “I’m fine, you should go,” you insisted.
Spencer shook his head, “No, you’re sick. I’ll call Garcia back and tell her I have to stay back.” Acting bewildered at the idea that he had been so remiss as to agree to do his job while you were unwell.
You reached out and set a hand on his, “It’s alright, love. I can take care of myself,” you reminded him. Besides the fact that you were wholly self-sufficient, the only reason why Spencer would be asked to meet the team at the tarmac was if they were headed toward a particularly gnarly case – they needed all hands on deck.
“Promise me you’ll check in? Call your mom if you need any help, please,” he requested, pleading eyes following you as you got up to hug him.
Nodding, you wrapped your arms around him, “You should take the crossword with you.” Pulling away, you haphazardly refolded the newspaper and handed it to him.
Furrowing his brow, Spencer inspected the paper that you had given him. “We always do the crossword together on Saturdays,” he found you incredibly helpful on the pop culture clues. “We could save this one and then have two for next week,” he offered.
God. No. Your eyes widened at the idea of having to keep your secret for another week, shaking your head, you shrugged, “No, you should take it. It’ll make me look forward to next week even more,” you insisted.
He folded, and with a sweet kiss to the forehead, he was off to go save lives, remaining entirely unaware of the one growing inside of you.
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him
The judgmental Italian behind him was proving to be a distraction, “Did you find something?” Spencer asked, eyeing the evidence board with frustration. Something bugged him about the case, and he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was.
“Not right now, but it’s three in the morning,” Rossi said, joining Spencer by the evidence board. “Why don’t you give that big brain of yours a break?”
Shaking his head, Spencer crossed his arms in front of his chest, “I tried. I can’t stop thinking about the case.” Men were popping up dead in a small Missouri town at an alarming rate, and he felt so close to a breakthrough.
Dave nodded like he understood the feeling, that was probably why he had emerged from his hotel room so early, returning to the precinct before the sun peeked over the horizon. “What do you usually do to wind your brain down?”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “Crossword puzzles,” he admitted, any word puzzle would do the trick.
The chuckle from the older man next to him startled Spencer, “Now, why doesn’t that surprise me?” Rossi looked around the precinct, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere.”
“No,” Spencer said, “I have one in my bag, actually.” He refrained from including the detail that you had given him the crossword puzzle, or else he’d never hear the end of it.
Clapping him on the back, Rossi lifted his coffee cup, “Then I suggest you go take the thirty seconds to fill out that puzzle and then get some rest.”
Once he was back in his hotel room, he changed before pulling out the pile of papers that you had sent him off with. Sitting on top of the bed, he filled out the puzzle in approximately six minutes and forty-three seconds. Once the letters were filled in, he skimmed the puzzle – just to check it over.
The only one that might’ve given him trouble was about an American actress – usually he had you to help him with pop culture, but he recalled having the same last name as an actress in Days of Our Lives.
It was interesting that the words “Baby” and “Reid” were right next to each other.
Wait.
Quickly, he calculated the odds that the words “Baby” “Reid” “Due” and “November” were all in the puzzle and when the numbers were put together, they made your anniversary. Spencer just as quickly called you, listening to the phone ringing.
His heart was racing as he waited to see if you answered the phone. “Hey,” your groggy voice came through the receiver.
“Where did you get this crossword puzzle?” He asked you, flipping through the rest of the newspaper for the first time.
You hummed softly, “You’re doing it right now?”
Looking at the alarm clock on his bedside table, he dropped his face into his hands. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t even think about the time,” it was just past four in the morning now, making it just past five in the morning in Virginia. “I just thought that…” his voice trailed off. What if it was just a coincidence?
There was silence on your end of the call, and he wondered if you had fallen asleep. You hadn’t been feeling well, and he’d woken you up with his phone call. “You thought what, Spence?”
The teasing lilt in your voice had given you away to him immediately. He knew. Every one of his suspicions were confirmed, “Y/N Reid,” he breathed.
“Spencer Reid,” you countered.
He took a deep breath, “Are you pregnant?”
“Yeah,” you answered simply, with about as much enthusiasm as he expected from you at five in the morning.
It all started to make sense to him. The low blood pressure, the drowsiness, and even the slight caginess when it came to him asking about your doctor’s visit. He swiped away a few stray tears, “I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a feeling he was overly used to.
You cleared your throat, “Are you happy?” Nerves clouded your voice, and he could hear you becoming more awake – more alert.
“I am,” he searched aimlessly. Elated. Thrilled. Ecstatic. “I’m so happy,” he told you, at a loss for words. “I don’t know what to say, I just… God, are you okay?” Dread washed over him, you were alone, sick, and pregnant at home and he was halfway across the country.
Sighing, he heard a ruffling on the other end of the call. “I’m great. I’m exhausted, I had no idea being pregnant was so tiring. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know.” You sighed again, “I’m not making any sense.”
He laughed lightly at your rambling, “You’re making perfect sense. Chances are your energy will return during the second trimester.”
“Don’t get my hopes up.” You paused again for just a moment, “I’m sorry if I scared you. With the whole doctor’s appointment thing. They really are keeping an eye on my blood pressure and whole slew of other things, but they know the root cause.”
A giddy smile grew on his face, “It’s because you’re pregnant.”
A soft hum came through the phone, “It’s because I’m pregnant,” you concurred.
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evilminji · 1 month
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I woke up to this thought? And it made me smile~
Wrong way Au?
It's EASY to fly from point A to point B. Linear. Just on long, no traffic, straight line. And if you get lost? Go higher! There you are! But "normal" reporter families with Totally Human genetics can't exactly DO that.
Plus? It's part of the whole Americana thing!
Childhood.
Gotta do a road trip, see weird road side attractions, camp and hike a bit. Go somewhere other then the farm for once. Soooo~ everyone into the car! Yes, you too, Kon.
And don't look at Lois, kids. She hates this idea as much as you do. But it's for Dad. So we're doing it. Get in the car. Some times loving people means "suuuure, honey! I TOTALLY want to sit in an uncomfortable car for hours for your nostalgic dream trip!", so get comfy.
Problem is? He either can't navigate for SHIT (unlikely) or this patch of nowhere? Possibly haunted? Cursed? Fuckey. Very, very Reality Fuckey. Far more likely, honestly. They THINK that was the a same barn the passed four times now... but it looks... wrong? Off. Worse each time, in ways that are hard to place.
Where the FUCK are they Clark?
According to the GPS?
Here.
(You are Here. You are Here. You are He-)
Oh, THAT'S not cursed! She fucking KNEW they shouldn't have left the city. FUCK the countryside. She likes ONE(1) small town and it's where her in-laws live, THANK YOU VERY MUCH! If they die, she swear to GOD-!!!
Then Jon points to colorful tents up the road. A mix of the kind you buy at big box stores and Ren fairs. Balloons. What the fuuuuuck? "Fenton Family Reunion"?
Was... was that THERE a second ago?
Clark's very deliberate Not Too Tight Grip Of Panic ™ on the steering wheel? Confirms that No Honey, it was not. Kon points out? That eventually they ARE going to run out of gas. They should stop.
Words can not express how little the Kents want to do that. They have KIDS to protect. This feels "magical fuckery" to them. AKA? One of the few things Kryptonians very much CAN NOT handle.
And luck getting ahold of anybody back there kids? No? Emergency lines too?
Fuck ™.
Okay! Guess we're stopping! Stay behind us.
They park.
There are campers and trucks, modified tanks and trackers. A few horses grazing side by side with an honest to God moose and two mules. A Llama. Someone's anchored a dirigible. A boat with spindly chicken footed legs, like it's the house of baba yaga's sea faring love child. The name Fenton is slapped on everything. Peoples faces.
Grinning.
Everything grinning.
As they get closer, the racket gets louder. Crashes and smashes. Roaring laughter. Explosions. The screech of metal failing and the whine of energy overclocked. Fatty meats cooking. Spices from around the globe. Radios and instruments, at least one of which violently cuts off in a smash.
They pass an almost violently balloon choked arch, into chaos.
Grinning giants, everywhere. Every color, every shade, every race imaginable. The spectrum of humanity laid bare. Made large. Grinning, Grinning, Grinning. Crashing into each other, against, through. Smashing and laughing, as everything breaks around them. Titans.
Darting underfoot, children. Fast with wild eyes. Mad grins and fae laughs. Wives and husband's, partners and friends, dancing in and out of the chaos. Just as destructive. Perhaps MORE so. Grabbing meals from grills, laughing and joking, tossing children into the fray, all as they effortless hold conversations of their own.
Like a Dionysian revelry, all madness and joy.
Then they are noticed.
"Cousin!"
One of them booms. Locking eyes on Clark. He doesn't even have time to move, doesn't realize until too late, in all the chaos, that the man meant HIM. A running start is followed by a brutal, full body, flying tackle. Clark is taken skidding to the ground and into a headlock.
"LETS WRASTLE~!!"
He watches in helpless confusion as, with high-pitched war cries, a pair of twins jump Jon. They are wearing war paint. Krypto already taken out by a glowing green dog, now confused and wrestling off to the side. Lois has whipped out her tazer. Kon between her and who ever comes next.
By the time he wrestle his "cousin" off of him, he's lost sight of them both.
Dives into the fray.
Magic be damned, that's his FAMILY!
It... It's the most fun he's had in years. That any of them have. He finds Lois in a breathless, screaming, debate/fistfight with her new best friend. Samantha "call me Sam Or ELSE" Manson-Fouley-Fenton. Kon is in the mud pit, wrestling other teenagers in some sort of battle Royale. Jon? Has become king of the ferals. The other parents are impressed.
His years of Damian wrangling finally paying dividends, apparently.
By the time Clark FINALLY tracks down Krypto, there is already crowd and it apparently six heel turns deep into the WWE Grand Saga of the Fenton Pet's League. Krypto, what the hell. No. No you may NOT "form one last alliance against my sworn wrestling enemy, to prove the true meaning of Christmas!" It's the middle of SUMMER!
Clark... Clark is so tired.
He's also a Fenton now. Yes, he KNOWS that's not how anything works. YOU try explaining that! He's on the call list and card list. It's like the Addams family out here! They just... just DECIDED him and his family were related! They've apparently DONE THAT BEFORE!
They leave with directions, fudge, more leftovers then anyone could possibly eat, and a massive new extended family. One that honestly? The Justice League SHOULD have known about. The sheer destructive chaos they get up too? EVERYONE should be aware of them. It seems impossible NOT to be! But? According to THEM, it's a "family thing". Reality tries to ignore them for "it's own sanity"? What???
So yeah.... no more road trips.
How was YOUR weekend?
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @lolottes @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter @mutable-manifestation
1K notes · View notes
inkedells · 11 months
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look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader
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A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?
m!dni | requests open.
summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.
word count: 5.5k
tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires
masterlist
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There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.
You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.
You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—
“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.
He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.
So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.
You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”
Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.
But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.
“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”
By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 
“Lead the way.”
Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.
“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”
As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.
“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”
There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.
He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”
You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.
“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”
“What kinda chore we talkin’?”
“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”
“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.
“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”
“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”
-
Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.
You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.
When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.
“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”
“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”
“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”
Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.
“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”
You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.
“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”
He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”
Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.
“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”
Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—
He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”
You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.
“Um, I think he’s out working.”
“Great.”
Great?
Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”
You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”
His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.
Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.
“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”
He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.
“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”
You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”
He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”
“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.
Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”
“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”
Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”
“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”
Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”
“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”
Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.
“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”
Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.
“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”
You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.
“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”
You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”
“Joel. Just Joel.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.
“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.
You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.
It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.
He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”
His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”
“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”
With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.
It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.
“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”
You nodded hesitantly.
“You know why it’s there?”
You shrugged.
He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”
Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out
“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”
“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”
Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.
Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 
“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.
But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.
A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.
You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.
Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.
“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”
It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.
“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”
And just like that, he was gone.
-
That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.
You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.
So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.
Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.
No pressure on either of you.
You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.
-
Ring. Ring. Ring.
Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.
“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”
“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”
“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”
“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”
“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”
Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”
You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.
Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?
When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.
And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.
You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.
Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.
The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.
-
Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.
“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”
And Joel’s voice.
You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.
Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.
“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.
“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”
Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”
“Well, what was the usual li—”
“—Were you asleep?”
“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”
Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”
“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”
“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”
No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”
He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”
“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”
He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”
“What? But why?”
Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.
“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”
“Joel, I—”
“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”
You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 
“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”
You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.
“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.
“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.
He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.
“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”
Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”
You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.
“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”
“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.
You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”
Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.
“Yeah, what is it?”
“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”
You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.
“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”
You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.��
Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”
And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.
“Unbuckle my pants.”
With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.
“What…” You began, “What now?”
“Whatever feels comfortable.”
With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.
Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”
“—Yes, God, yes.”
You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.
“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”
You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.
“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.
With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.
You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”
And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.
Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.
You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”
“Licking a man’s cock.”
You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”
“Like what?”
“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”
And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.
Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.
“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”
“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.
“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”
You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.
“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”
He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”
“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”
“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.
With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”
“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”
When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.
“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.
“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”
But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.
“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 
“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”
“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”
“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”
“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 
“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.
“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”
“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”
He sighed at that. “You got me there.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.
When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.
“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.
“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”
“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.
Another sigh. “My cum.”
You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.
“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.
“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”
Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”
Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”
You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 
“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”
You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”
“What? No—”
“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”
He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”
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masterlist
A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings
taglist:
@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare
@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13
@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams @laurasunsole @senaar-ika @whore4ellie @harrysbitvh123 @atremises @silkiers @bbyanarchist @pawnshopbluess222 @https-hann @cassiesolos @xanqels @jawgrinder
@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp 
5K notes · View notes
audrey-emeralds · 4 months
Text
Smashing Diamonds
Pairing: Nate Jacobs x Fem!Reader
Summary: The well-organized party turns south for Nate when he sees his former fling just a few steps away from Maddie, with whom he recently rekindled. Deciding to stay away from her, he realizes he can't help himself after noticing what she is wearing. Word count: 2.3k (2381 words)
Warnings: smut, dirty talk, name-calling, slut shaming, degradation, fingering, a bit of choking, cursing, unprotected sex
A/n: I don't know why but I got the need to try something dirty and Nate is the perfect person to try this on. Anyway, first time really trying to get into it, so I apologize if it isn't the best. Also, I wrote this as quickly as I could, because I was afraid the writer's block was gonna get me, but thankful it did!
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Friday night, a perfect time for partying. When your friend Lea first mentioned the idea, you already knew what you wanted to wear. A very transparent top and skirt, with minimal material, mostly consisting of thin stripes of diamonds. A hot look for any club.
However, Lea didn't have any club on her mind. She mentioned your friends from East Highland High.
" You remember Barbara, yeah, well she said that there was this party happening on Friday and how we should totally come. " You thought about it, not much linked you to the people from there, which seemed like a great opportunity to meet new people and face new adventures. Without any hesitation, you agreed to this party.
~~~time skip~~~
After dressing up, you gave yourself a few spins, and view your reflection from the full body mirror, admiring the shiny gems that only covered small parts of your skin.
" This is going to be epic. " You took a selfie of yourself as you heard a car honking in front of your house. Quickening your steps, you managed to pass your living room with neither of your parents taking a glance at you, knowing they wouldn't approve of the outfit.
" Damn, girl, are you trying to get knocked up?!?! " Lea let her jaw fall to the floor as you were walking towards her car.
" Hahaha, not really. " A giggle slipped through your glossy lips.
" Well, good luck trying to find a guy who will pull out in time with you like this. "
You gasped dramatically, giggling once again. " Oh my God, Lea! " She winked at you, driving away from your house and straight to the party house.
Before you even stepped into the house, a smell of weed hit your nose. Alcohol bottles were at every table, every counter, and at any corner available. The whole house was covered in purple and pink lights, pouring over the crowds, not missing a single human. Music was bombing the whole place with its beat, and you couldn't wait to get to the dancing.
You noticed that just next to the big sofa, Barbara sat on an armchair, vaping casually. Lea and you made your way over to her. She quickly saw you coming her way and stood up with open arms.
" Look who's here!! " She screamed out, even though it was barely heard due to the loud music.
" So glad you could come! " She said firstly looking at Lea and then at you. It took her 10 seconds to look at you before she commented " Obviously with a purpose! "
You laughed, smiling at her and slightly shrugging. Lea just nodded enthusiastically at her. She encourages you to give Barbara a turn, at which you initially shake your arms. However, Barbara was intrigued and kept encouraging you to do so. Giving them a mocking eye roll, you spun around with Lea holding your hand in the air.
" Well shit, you better take that ass on the dance floor. " BB clicked with her tongue.
" Oh, don't worry I will, but first I need a drink to warm up. " At your words Barbara, lead you two to the drinks, giving each of you a glass.
" In that case, drink the fuck up! "
Two and a half cups of alcohol were more than enough to make you drag yourself and Lea on the dance floor. The beat was gushing out of the speakers so loudly, you could feel it in your chest.
You completely let yourself go to the music, the freedom you were able to feel while dancing was mesmerizing. Nothing else had your focus and attention, with this addictive feeling you couldn't care less what your outfit was showing and whatnot.
Across the room, Nate was standing with his friends, as each held their cup, staring at the new girl. You.
" Fuck, who's that? " One groaned out while eyeing your body.
" Just some girl from Valley Torah High. " Nate's voice spoke as each of his friends turned to him with interest.
" Yo, Jacobs, you never told us about this one. You fucked her, right? " The same guy asked, waiting to hear confirmation. Nate looked at him quickly before, staring back at you.
" Ohhh! So where are the photos, we didn't see her yet. " Nate frowned at him, as the group of guys laughed.
" I didn't take any. " He admitted quickly. Meeting the guy's confused faces, he added. " Didn't have time. "
" I see. " The black-haired one said straightening himself up. " Well in that case we will make some. " He turned to the guy next to him, pulling out his phone and handing it to him, before deciding otherwise and giving his phone to Nate.
" I trust you will know better which angles to film. " With that, he started approaching you. Nate didn't even acknowledge the phone fully, his mind was kept on you.
The way you swayed to the song, dancing and turning. Nate had sex with you twice, firstly after meeting you at a party and the secondly when you accidentally found yourself in the same store. Expect that nothing else happened, you two barely ever talked, you knew your names but that was it.
Nate did make an effort to ask for your number, but with him getting together with Maddie once again, he didn't think of contacting you. He did, however, look at your social media, just enough to know which school you attended and who you hung out with.
Since he was on good terms with Maddie, who knows would you two ever interact again, if it wasn't for this night, that outfit, and Nate's friend.
As the guy was approaching you, Nate took the chance to look at your surroundings, seeing his girlfriend had spotted you. " Of course, she did, who fucking didn't? " He thought to himself while watching the stipes of your skirt reveal your cheeks.
The sight made him close his eyes for a second to regain his senses. The outfit was almost slutty, whorish, he thought, but yet it just made it harder for him to not start rubbing his pants.
Just before the man next to you could get to you, one of Nate's friends tried to call out to him. " Yo, you filmin' this? "
Without any hesitation, Nate dropped the damn phone, muttering under his breath " fuck this. " and fastly started making his way towards you.
His friends laughed a bit, at his reaction, waiting to see what was about to unfold. You were still in your own world when a black-haired guy spoke to you. " Hey- " not even properly starting his sentence before Nate go to him. He looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. " Thanks for borrowing me your phone, now you can go back for it, I left it with Caleb. " The taller guy said, composed and relaxed.
You stared at the two strangers, the taller one had a serious face as he spoke to the other one. " What are you talk- "
" Caleb has it. Your phone. " He cut him off, you tried to hear better what were they talking about as you leaned closer to them. The two of them just stared at each other, not matching their facial expression.
" Go. " The taller one almost whispered it to the other one's ear, who left only a second later. Just then you could recognise the man in front of you.
" Oh hey, you. Nate right? " He just nodded slowly, his eyes watching you lazily, his figure towering over you. You stared at him, awkwardly standing, feeling a bit uncomfortable since you were the only two people not dancing in the crowd.
" Come with me. " Nate said, walking away to the stairs. You followed before stopping in front of the stairs and calling after him. " For what? "
He turned to you, an annoying expression on his face, almost frustrated. " We both know why you are here, so you gonna come and get it or what? " You turned back to see Lea was drinking at the kitchen counter, before meeting your eye, you supposed she couldn't see Nate, but she knew what going upstairs meant, so with a jovial smile, she made a cheering gesture.
You laughed, acknowledging her excitement, and then followed Nate upstairs. He didn't look at the people that were there, he walked right passed them and into a room, that seemed almost fully prepared for this encounter to take place.
You went in after him, closing the door. " So you remember me? " He asked a rhetorical question. " Then you must remember what you were doing to me. " Your eyes glanced at him innocently, after all that dancing, you still felt a bit mischievous.
" I don't know Nate, am I suppose remember it? " He immediately came closer to you, almost fully, chest to chest. " You wanna play a game ha? "
" Is this what you came for? "
You preached up your lips as if you were thinking about it, locking up at him and seeing the tense position of his jaw. A lot took for you to not smile, since you knew the moment you looked down you would see how much more tension was held in his lower area. But, of course you couldn't resist to look. " Oh my. " You gasped, almost faking it. " Now I see what is stressing you out. "
Your hand automatically pushed itself on his bulge, making him bite into his lower lip. But before you could even react to that, he spun you around and pinned you on the wall. Now his covered dick almost went right into your hole, as he made the quietest groan ever.
As he held you in that position, his big hands began to rub in the inner of both of your thighs, the warmth it was creating made you push yourself into him completely out of reflex. He groaned into your ear, before sneaking one of his hands into your panties, only to rip them off you. His fingers immediately stuck themselves inside you, teasing each and every part viciously.
" Fuck, ah! " You moaned hard into the wall. He left his right hand to flick around your pussy and let his left hand reach your breasts. He easily got to them, as only the diamond stripes kept him from squeezing them firmly causing you to hiss out in a painful satisfaction.
" Fuck, yeah! Tell me how it feels. " Nate pushed his still-covered front into you, as his fingers played with your entrance, before entering into you once again.
" Oh, Nate! " You practically screamed out his name. " It feels so fucking good! " You couldn't help but drag yourself all over his pants, just wishing you could pull them down. However, your hands were more preoccupied with holding you against the wall.
" Imagine how good would it feel with my dick inside you. " At that, you whined mockingly, pushing your ass into him. This made his hand leave your pinched breasts as he smacked your ass, vividly leaving his handprint on it.
" A whore like you would, just love that, wouldn't you? " You nodded hard, making sure he had seen it. His left hand then once again made contact with your ass, slapping it to the point of full redness. His fingers still worked on you, as you felt your orgasm approaching. Nate noticed it, smirking before completely letting you go. He placed his hands on his pants, starting to pull them down. You turned to him, wishing to do it yourself, but were met with rejection.
" You better keep those hands on the fucking wall. You already fucked with me enough tonight, so I'm going to let you know how it feels. " You barely turned around, as he slipped his hard dick into you. The sudden thrust into you made you scream out in pleasure. Nate didn't even let you take a full breath in before he started pounding into you.
He thrusted more and more into you, groaning at the feeling. His hands held your hips as he fucked you. His eyes watched your ass bounce with all the diamond stripes. The diamonds glimmered and shook at each smack, creating a quite beautiful sight that was hard to look away from. It was mesmerizing him and he truly thought about how much he enjoyed this, having you against the wall, being completely at his mercy and command, he was becoming harder just thinking about it.
You hummed at his thrusts until Nate grabbed your neck and choked it." Be louder...can't hear you. " He said as he slammed his full length into you. " Mhm, I'm gonna cum! " You yelped out, squeezing his dick so perfectly. " Yeah, come on...fuck! " Nate encouraged smugly, stopping his rhyme just for a moment. " I want to see you cum on my dick. " He then slammed once again, strongly into you, as you shook helplessly.
" You wanted this all along. To get...fucked so well. And so...dirty! " Nate panted into your ear, biting on your earlobe, before relesing it. " Mhm, fuck...I like you this tight. And wet. " His left hand was left at your ass as his right one returned to your pussy. Fingers rubbing into you, before sliding in.
" Mhmm... " You moaned as tears started to come out of your eyes. " Yeah...come on! Come on my dick! " With just one merciless push into you, you released your juices all over him. Nate groaned at the feeling of wetness covering him, throwing his head back, before returning to fucking you.
" Nate! Ah! " You groaned, feeling his dick twitch. " Fuck, cum in me! " When you said it, almost breathlessly, he knew he couldn't keep going for long. It took a few more thrusts, before he too released his juices, pushing himself fully into you, back to back. He left breaths on your back, as you both calmed down and returned to your normal breathing pace.
Nate pulled his dick out of you, walked over to the bathroom, getting himself a towel and cleaning himself up.
" You still fuck good, Jacobs. I remember it. " Nate only smirked at your words, trying to not let it affect him too much. He took one towel and gave it to you to do the same.
" I still have your number. I might text you for another time. "
" We will see if you will. "
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girlgenius1111 · 1 month
Text
all of my pain and all your excuses
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part 2 of family line ingrid arrives home, and realizes how much she's missed with her sister. her and mapi try to figure out how to put the pieces back together. r struggles with the mess inside her head. cw: mommy issues galore 🙃 mentions of poor mental health. solstråle continues to be sad.
-------
It took you a few minutes of crying into Mapi before you realized what she’d probably done. At this realization, you pulled away from her in a panic, practically falling onto the ground. 
“Mapi, please don’t tell Ingrid about this, please please, you can’t, she’ll be so mad, she’s already mad, I can’t,” your gasps for air cut your words off and Mapi took your face in between her hands. 
“Breathe. In and out pequeña. Just breathe.” She instructed, dramatically exaggerating her own breaths. 
“Please, Mapi,” you whimpered after a minute. 
“I’m sorry, nena, I had to. I had to.” She said, seemingly begging you to believe her that she’d had no other choice. You couldn’t really blame her; you’d gotten yourself here, after all. You’d written the letter. You’d meant every word you’d said, and every word you didn’t quite have the guts to say. You’d collapsed into her arms. You’d given her no choice. 
“I’m really scared,” you mumbled. 
Mapi pulled you back in, tucking your face easily into her chest. “I know. You don’t need to be, but I know you are. Everything is going to be alright. I promise you.” 
You wrapped yourself tight around the defender, hoping with everything in you that she was right. 
When Ingrid burst through the front door, eyes immediately finding you on the couch, crumpled up into a little ball in Mapi’s lap, she knew it was bad. Mapi was holding you so tightly, expression unreadable when she glanced up at Ingrid, murmuring inaudible words in your ear. You looked so small, visibly trembling in your baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, Mapi’s arms engulfing you. Ingrid practically ran to your side, sitting as carefully as she could next to the both of you. 
“María, what..?” Ingrid asked, trailing off when Mapi silently held out a piece of paper to her. Ingrid took it, having no idea what she was about to read. Having no idea what she was about to feel. 
You were hiding your face in Mapi’s sweater, much too distraught to care about how pathetic you probably seemed. You’d heard Ingrid enter, and you knew it was just a matter of time before you had to leave your safe little bubble and confront this. When it had been silent for too long, and you knew Ingrid must be done reading by now, you shifted away from Mapi. It was time to be brave, and it was time to take whatever was coming your way. 
The look on your sister’s face made you want to take it all back. Because, fuck, you weren’t sure your happiness was worth making Ingrid this upset. She was scanning over the paper over and over, as if she was hoping the contents would change with each reread. 
You acted stronger than you felt, sliding off Mapi’s lap and moving a bit closer to Ingrid. She didn’t look away from the letter. 
“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. 
Your sister’s head snapped up to look at you so rapidly, you almost jumped. 
“Solstråle,” Ingrid began, and you felt like the last stable part of you broke sharply at the nickname. Sunbeam, it meant. Ingrid had called you that your whole life. Her sunbeam, always breaking through the clouds to shine a bit of light. She’d assumed you’d grown out of it, recently. You looked so small, though, so scared and so desperately sad, that it just slipped out. She didn’t regret it, not when you practically fell towards her. “Oh, honey.” 
If you were crying with Mapi just minutes before, you were bawling now. Hysterical, hyperventilating cries that were painful to hear, and painful to let out, but somehow so cathartic. Ingrid pulled you into her, beginning to cry herself. 
When Ingrid spoke, it was in Norwegian, and nothing had ever sounded so safe. “I am so sorry, my perfect baby sister, I am so so sorry. I love you. I love you, I love you. More than anything in this world, I love you.” 
And though you still cried, you relaxed marginally at the comfort hearing her speak in your native language brought you. You relaxed, going completely limp against your sister. You probably would have slid off her onto the ground if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around you so tight. Ingrid wasn’t sure she’d ever let you go. You weren’t sure you wanted her to.
-------
Ingrid stood in your doorway, eyes fixed on your sleeping form. She’d brought you up to bed, carrying you like she used to when you were little. You’d fallen asleep on her downstairs, and she hadn’t dared to move you for a while. She and Mapi sat in a rather stunned silence for a while, before Mapi suggested she bring you up to bed. So, Ingrid tucked you in, pulling the covers up to your chin the way she knew you liked them. She noticed something tucked under one of your pillows, and carefully pulled it out. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at the plush polar bear in her hand. Snø. She’d given him to you when you were three, for your birthday. She thought you’d stopped sleeping with him, but apparently not. The thought that you’d pulled him out of your closet for some comfort upon arriving in Spain made tears flood Ingrid’s eyes. She carefully kissed your forehead before rushing out of the room, almost colliding with her girlfriend. 
“Oof,” Mapi grunted, steadying Ingrid, when she caught sight of the other womans’ face. “Amor,” 
Ingrid shook her head, wiping harshly at her eyes, and pushed past Mapi towards their bedroom. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she pulled the folded letter out of her pocket, smoothing it out, and began to read it. Again. Mapi had followed her into the room, and took the paper out of her girlfriend’s hands. 
“Give it back.” Ingrid said through clenched teeth. She sounded angry, but Mapi saw the tears in her eyes and knew better. 
“No, you’ve already read it.” Mapi said firmly. 
“María, give it back, I need to read it again.” 
“Mi amor, it's just going to hurt more, and you don’t need that right now.”
“Yes I do,” Ingrid cried. “I do, she’s been hurting like this for god knows how long. Wanting to–” She cut herself off, shaking her head almost frantically. “She said she felt like no one would care if she was gone. Reading this hurts but it is nothing compared to what she has been feeling, and it is all my fault, so let me read it so I can fix this, because I need to fix this, I can’t lose her, María, I can’t lose her.” Ingrid was sobbing by the end, making little to no sense, and Mapi placed her hands on Ingrid’s cheeks, forcing her to make eye contact. She noticed in that moment that while you looked alike normally, you looked just like Ingrid when you cried. 
It wasn’t enough, though, Ingrid was crying so hard, every sob shattered a part of Mapi that she hadn’t known existed. She climbed onto the bed, pulling Ingrid with her, guiding the younger woman’s head onto her chest. Ingrid clutched at Mapi’s shirt almost desperately, muffling her sobs there too, although her body shook heavily with the force of them. Her world was falling down around her, and it was all she could do to hold onto her María, and not let go. 
“I know, mi princesa, I know.” Mapi murmured, running her fingers through Ingrid’s thick hair. “You aren’t going to lose her. We aren’t going to lose her. We’ll fix it.” 
“I don’t know how to fix it,” Ingrid whimpered. Mapi tilted the Norwegian’s head up, until Ingrid was looking at her once again. 
“That’s okay, mi amor. You don’t need to have all the answers now. We’ll figure it out together. For now, just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her.” 
Ingrid nodded pitifully, scooting up and cramming her face into the crook of Mapi’s neck.
“Thank you. For helping her and for texting me and for being so perfect. You’re always so perfect.” Ingrid mumbled. 
“I’ll be perfect for you any day. I love you, and I love your sister. Now relax, mi princesa. Relax, breathe, calm down. We’re going to be okay.” 
And like you had earlier, Ingrid hoped with everything in her that Mapi was right about this. 
-------
Ingrid and Mapi fell silent the minute you walked into the kitchen the next morning. They’d been talking about you, clearly, and they looked at you nervously the minute you were in sight. You’d woken up irritated, though, as you sometimes did, feeling like your blood was boiling, as if one wrong thing would set you off. You wished you had more control than that, but you knew the minute you heard your sister’s voice, you would fly off the handle. Because this morning? You weren’t sad. You were furious. 
The room was a complete contradiction to how you were feeling. Ingrid and Mapi’s home was bright with sunlight, and warm with color. They were both holding matching coffee mugs, and looking at you with matching concerned expressions, and all of it made you want to scream. Why did Ingrid get to have this perfect life, and you didn’t? Why did she get to be happy so easily, and you didn’t? 
You were lost in your thoughts, taking the coffee Mapi handed you with a quiet thank you. The kitchen was uncomfortably silent. 
“Hi, solstråle. How are you feeling this morning?” Ingrid piped up. You clenched your jaw. How did she think you were feeling?
“Fine.” You snapped. 
Ingrid remained quiet and soothing when she spoke next, and it made you even angrier. “Honey, last night,”
“I don’t really feel like talking about it right now.” You said harshly, cutting her off. Ingrid tensed, trying to keep her reaction in check. 
“I’m sorry, solstråle, but that is not an option. We need to talk about what happened, we can’t wait on that.” Ingrid insisted, voice measured. 
Still it was like she’d hit you. Your head snapped up, your features contorted with rage, and you set your coffee down dangerously softly, glaring at your sister. “Oh now we have to? Now we have to talk about it? I’ve been here for 6 fucking months Ingrid. It took you months to realize something was wrong, and you didn’t even realize! I had to write it out for you. You told me last night that you love me, that you want me here, well then why didn’t you fucking show it before now! I said I don’t want to talk today and I meant that.” You yelled. 
Ingrid shook her head, her hands clenching tight into fists. “Do not yell at me. I am trying to help. I understand that you’re hurt, and that you’re upset, but-” 
You scoffed loudly then, interrupting her, and Ingrid got visibly more frustrated with you, her lips turning down into a disapproving frown. 
“You can’t-” 
“Ingrid, just take a sec.” Mapi cut in, her soft voice a sharp contrast to how you and your sister had been conversing. “Nena, we do need to talk, but it doesn’t have to be now. Let’s just all take a breath.” 
Ingrid was shocked when you slowly nodded your head and took a step back from her, inhaling deeply. It was like magic; she’d never seen an argument that you were involved in get de-escalated so quickly.  
“Go get your homework, okay? You’re coming with us to training.” Ingrid said after a minute. There was no room for argument in her words, and you fought against another surge of anger, fought the urge to yell. 
“Is this because of what I wrote?” You asked evenly. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances. 
“Listen, nena, we just want to keep an eye on you.” Mapi told you, realizing that you were a lot less reactive when she spoke to you than when Ingrid did. 
“I know what I said. I wasn’t going to do anything, though. Really. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that to you.” You defended quietly. 
Mapi felt Ingrid’s hand slide into hers and grip tight. I wouldn’t do that to you, you’d said. Not I wouldn’t do that, period. Everytime she thought about what you’d written, Ingrid felt a wave of nausea wash over her. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Mapi hadn’t gotten home when she did. She wasn’t sure how close she’d come to losing you. She was so scared. 
Ingrid had never been good at letting you see how she was feeling, and maybe that was why, until this point, you’d gone out of your way to hide your own emotions from her. She decided to take Mapi’s advice from the night before. Just be her sister. Not her parent. Just be her sister, and if you don’t know what else to say, tell her you love her. 
Ingrid approached you like she was worried you would lash out at her, which may have been fair. When you made no move to step away from her, she carefully stood directly in front of you, and put her hands on your shoulders. 
“What you wrote really scared me. I’m not mad, solstråle, I’m just really scared. And I trust you, I do, but if I left you here alone, I would just worry, and we haven’t talked yet, and I have no idea what you’re thinking other than the things you said on that piece of paper. So it would make me feel a lot better if you came with us to training today.” 
You blinked up at her for a minute, before you slowly nodded your head. “Okay. I guess that’s fair.” 
Ingrid seemed equally as surprised as you did, removing her hands from your shoulders, and gesturing for you to go get your bag. Once you’d disappeared from the room, she turned back to her girlfriend, who had a ridiculous grin on her face. 
“Look! You communicated! Like a real human being!” Mapi joked, opening her arms. Ingrid instantly melted into the hug, though she scowled at her girlfriend’s teasing. 
“I communicate.” She said stubbornly. 
“Sometimes,” Mapi allowed. “You’ve definitely gotten better. And you’ll keep getting better because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you as determined as you are right now to make sure that your solstråle is okay.” Mapi whispered, kissing the side of Ingrid’s head. 
“My solstråle.” Ingrid smiled. “I started calling her that when she was 3, and she had this shirt with a sun on it. I told her I liked it once, and whenever she saw me sad after that, she’d run off to put the shirt on and come show me. I called her my little solstråle. My sunbeam. She used to be so smiley, María. So happy. She’s so different now.” Very quickly, the smile faded from Ingrid’s face and she held Mapi closer to her. 
“It’s all gonna be okay, mi princesa,” Mapi promised. 
You cleared your throat from the doorway, then, and your sister and her girlfriend sprung apart, blushing like high schoolers caught in an awkward position. “Are you guys done making out?” 
“We weren’t making out,” Ingrid groaned, as you all headed towards the door. 
“No, we only make out after training,” Mapi said seriously.
You made a fake retching sound, Ingrid slapped her girlfriend in the arm, and Mapi laughed to herself, but the tension was broken. And you had smiled, a real smile. Ingrid didn’t care what she had to say to see you smile again, she’d do it. 
--------
As was the norm when you went to training, the younger girls immediately latched onto you, yanking you away from Ingrid and pulling you into some scheme to get back at Mapi for the prank she’d pulled on them last week. It was the usual suspects; Pina,Vicky, Salma, and a couple others pulling you from the room, already giggling. They kindly didn’t say anything about the bruising and cuts on your face, and for that you were grateful, although you did get a few raised eyebrows from the older players. Ingrid watched you go anxiously, only turning her attention away from the door you’d walked out of when Mapi squeezed her hand.
“She’ll be fine.” Mapi promised. Ingrid nodded, but she didn’t stop worrying. And when Mapi went off to work in the gym herself, the Norwegian had no one to pull her out of her head. 
She worried all through the gym session, paying very little attention to what she was supposed to be doing. Which wasn’t normal for Ingrid, and it caught the attention of pretty much everyone. 
Ingrid was staring intently at where you were sitting against the wall in the shade, working on your homework, when Alexia and Frido approached. 
“Everything okay, Engen?” Alexia asked. 
“Yep.” Ingrid said distractedly. 
“What did our dear solstråle do this time?” Frido joked, having known your sister long enough to know precisely why you were living with her. Alexia knew, too, and smiled, joining in on the joke. Until Ingrid’s eyes inexplicably filled with tears, and she turned away from you, wiping harshly at her face. 
“Ingrid? What happened?” Frido wondered, running a hand up and down the Norwegian’s arm, while Alexia looked around anxiously, searching for anyone, anyone on earth, that would be better at dealing with whatever was going on than she would be. 
“It’s a long story.” Ingrid said, her voice cracking. Frido and Alexia exchanged looks, before the captain turned to Jona across the pitch. 
“Ingrid needs her ankle taped!” She shouted, before leading both women off the pitch. Jona nodded knowingly, despite the fact that Ingrid hadn’t done anything to her ankle, and it was rather odd for 2 entire people to accompany her to tape it. Jona knew that Alexia wouldn’t be asking for a minute for Ingrid if she didn’t think it was necessary. 
Ingrid let them pull her into the locker room, rather desperate for some advice and some honesty. Because Mapi loved her too much to tell her how badly she’d really messed up, and both Frido and Alexia were known to be brutally honest. She needed brutal honesty right now. No matter how much it hurt.
-------
You were busy struggling through an essay you were supposed to be writing entirely in Spanish when Frido sat down next to you. One look at her face told you she knew exactly what was going on. You weren’t that surprised. She was your sister’s best friend, and you’d known her for a long time. If there was anyone that Ingrid was going to talk to, it would be Frido. 
Frido always spoke to you in Norwegian, a thing you were endlessly grateful for. It instantly put you at ease, and today was no different, as she tugged playfully at your ear.
“How is my favorite Norwegian?” She asked. 
“I know you already asked your second favorite Norwegian.” You replied jokingly. 
“Why would I ask Caro how you are?” Frido deadpanned. 
You threw your head back, laughing loudly, and Frido grinned, continuing on to tell any and every joke she could think of. 
Ingrid watched from the doorway of the building, and when Mapi turned the corner and saw her watching the two of you, she knew exactly what her girlfriend was thinking. 
Ingrid saw Mapi coming, though, and forced a smile onto her face. “How was the gym?” She asked. 
“Fine. I was distracted though. How is she doing?” Mapi replied, nodding in your direction. 
“Well. She’s joking around with Frido. So, better I assume.” Ingrid said evenly. 
“She’s joking with Frido because Frido speaks her language, and she trusts her, and she didn’t just get into a screaming match with Frido. Frido didn’t read a letter containing her most upsetting feelings. She loves you, Ingrid, she just needs time.” Mapi assured her. Ingrid kissed her cheek softly, very appreciative that her girlfriend always knew what she needed. 
“What if she doesn’t want to talk when we get home?” Ingrid asked, after another minute. 
Mapi sounded wiser than normal when she spoke. Ingrid wasn’t used to her being the voice of reason in their relationship, but she appreciated that the defender always stepped up, and was always willing to be what Ingrid needed. “What happened last night was a big thing. She needs to process, and she needs to take her time with it. She’ll talk when she’s ready. And until then, we keep an eye on her, we give her hugs, and we tell her that we love her, vale?” 
“Okay.” Ingrid agreed. It was going to be a long and difficult evening of not suffocating you with questions, it seemed. She’d do it, though, if it was what you needed. Ingrid thought that she would probably quit football or cut off one of her limbs if that was what you needed. 
-------
You didn’t talk much the rest of the day, as Mapi predicted, and as Ingrid feared. Your sister did her best not to push you, and was mostly successful. Mapi kept the conversation going, able to talk about nothing for hours. She knew exactly which topics to discuss and which to avoid, and she knew how to make both you and Ingrid laugh until your stomachs hurt. Thank god for Mapi. 
You were… relatively alright. Until later that evening, when you got up to head upstairs to finish some homework. You’d accidentally picked up Ingrid’s phone thinking it was yours, and saw a few texts from your mom to her. All about how much she missed Ingrid, how she was thinking of her, how she made Ingrid’s favorite for dinner that night. Nothing about you. You put it back down silently, grabbed your phone, and tried not to think about it, to no avail.
Instead of doing your homework, you sat on the floor of your room, thinking of the fact that your mom had missed your birthday, and not even noticed. Ingrid had, too, but she’d apologized over and over, and she’d promised to take you shopping over the weekend, and to dinner. Ingrid was trying. Your mother hadn’t tried in a while. 
You didn’t realize you were crying until Mapi knocked on the door to say goodnight. She peaked in, frowning when she saw the fresh tears on your cheeks. 
“Hey,” she said softly, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to you, minding her knee. She texted Ingrid to come upstairs, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, because I know that you aren’t. But Ingrid and I love you. Ingrid and I want you here. Ingrid and I are gonna fix things, and that is a promise.” 
You registered the words, though you didn’t believe them. Still, you gave Mapi a watery smile and leaned into her a bit. Ingrid’s footsteps were quiet in the hall, but you recognized that she was walking faster than normal. She appeared at your door, then, giving Mapi a meaningful look, and took Mapi’s place, sliding down onto the floor next to you. You pulled your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and holding tight. It looked as if you were trying to physically hold yourself together. 
“Hey, solstråle,” Ingrid said softly. You murmured a greeting, not moving your chin from your knees, and not turning your gaze towards your sister either. It was quiet for a minute before Ingrid prompted you. “Talk to me, please.” 
You sighed, a tear rolling down your cheek. “‘I just miss Mom.” You said finally. 
Ingrid’s chest squeezed uncomfortably. You were so stubborn, so willful, sometimes she forgot you were just a kid. Just an 18 year old kid living in a foreign country, who missed her mom. “Do you want to call her?” She asked, not very confident in the suggestion, but not really sure what else to say. 
You instantly shook your head. “No. She doesn’t want to talk to me.” 
“Kjære, of course she does,” Ingrid began, but she wasn’t really sure. Your parents were so different, now. And whenever Ingrid called her mom, she never asked about you. She only wanted to hear about Ingrid. Your sister wasn’t stupid, she knew she was their favorite, but she didn’t expect them to write you off completely when you moved to Spain. They seemed happier, now. Without you there. It was something Ingrid couldn’t understand. Neither could you, really, but you had long accepted it. 
“No she doesn’t. I stopped calling her, just to see. 2 months ago. She hasn’t called me once. She doesn’t want me, anymore, Ingrid. I know I was an accident, but if they were going to hate me for ruining their early retirement plans, I don’t know why they didn't just…” 
Ingrid was speechless. At a loss for words, and so so angry. You filled the silence, though, things you’d never said out loud falling out of your mouth like you couldn’t help it. 
“I miss what mom was like before, when I was younger. When you were still at home. I miss that mom. I don’t miss the one that I could call right now.” 
“I don’t understand,” Ingrid said quietly, her hand resting on your head, and pulling you closer to her. 
“Ingrid, I know mom is always nice to you, but,” 
“No, solstråle. I don’t understand her. How she could bring someone so perfect into this world and not want to spend the rest of her life watching you grow up. I’ll never forgive her for how she’s made you feel, and I’ll never forgive myself for not noticing earlier. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to make it better. I promise you.” 
“Thanks, Ing.” You mumbled, looking up at her for a minute before resting your head on her shoulder. 
The problem was, Ingrid could tell you didn’t believe her. She could see it in your eyes; they were still so guarded and so hurt. You were still angry with her, she knew. You thought she just felt guilty, and eventually she would go back to how she was before. Ingrid didn’t know how to make you believe what she felt and what she told you. She worried so deeply that she wouldn’t be able to. That too much damage had been done, and that maybe she wouldn’t be able to fix it. Late at night, early in the morning, right in the middle of a match, she worried about that. All the time until it consumed her, and all she wanted to do was sit with you, and promise you over and over that she loved you more than anything on this planet. What if you never believed her? 
-------
doesn't everyone feel so much better now!
772 notes · View notes
levitiquee · 6 months
Text
“Daaa-ddy.”
Levi startles, looking up. The little girl stood before him, all wide eyes and beaming at him.
“Yes? Shouldn’t you be at school?”
She shrugs, then thrusts out a hair brush and a set of scrunchies. “Do my hair today!” She grins.
Levi is taken aback slightly, not at all expecting such a request. It’s not that he had a bad relationship with his daughter really, if anything Levi spends every second that he can spare with her. But even so, it was so sudden and specific, not to mention she has never asked him to do it before. It was you who helped her get ready.
“Doesn’t mommy usually do that?” He asks slowly. “Is she busy?”
She shakes her head quickly. “I just want you to do it today.” She smiles, holding the brush out to him, waiting for him to take it.
Levi glances at it then looks back up. How could he say no to that?
So, without a word, he motions her to turn around which she follows happily, pulling a stool nearby to sit between Levi’s legs. Levi takes the brush, though slightly hard to hold without his missing fingers, he manages, combing through the black silky strands.
Like his.
Though, his own hair was stranded with gray now, a sign of the long years he had lived. Even Ackermans don’t stay young forever.
But it’s still so strange to him, having her here, right in front of him. He still freezes a little when she smiles at him, watching her with awe. She looked almost exactly identical to him, starting from the shape of her face to the color of her eyes, just the exact shade of the silvery blue that his own eyes hold. But there was a brightness in those eyes that Levi doesn't think he ever had. She was like this little ball of sunshine, always so bright.
And her smile, that came from you.
She was his. Yours. Theirs.
A part of him and a part of you. A whole other human being. A child. A blessing.
It was the hardest at thr beginning. For him to get used to it. Despite the 9 months of pregnancy, it was when he first held her that the realization finally hit him. That she was his daughter. His.
And the moment his eyes locked with the newborn, he knew he was doomed.
That there was nothing he wouldn’t do for this small, small, absolutely tiny person that came to earth no more than half an hour ago. That he had just met.
It was crazy how it only took him only a moment for him to swear his life for her, to become so protective. It was actually ridiculous, how he felt anxious even when it was the nurses holding her, he’d been so rigid, so poised. Even when handing her over to someone else’s arms, he had his hand outstretched because just in case. It took a shit load of convincing from you for him to let Jean and Connie hold her.
It was crazier watching her grow up. Never had he felt this ridiculous amount of pure joy and excitement ever. Only to hear her first words, to watch her take her first steps, holding his hand. He swears it was only yesterday.
His chain of thought was cut off as she started to happily chatter about things. Unlike Levi, she talks. A lot. Levi doesn’t mind, he listens quietly. Every once in a while, inserting a comment.
“I’ve read about you. In the history books. Our teacher taught us.”
“Yeah?” He mumbles, brushing softly. “What’d you learn?”
“They called you humanity’s strongest.” She stumbles on the word a little, which was a bit heavy for her usual vocabulary. She turns around to look at him with awe and wonder, wide eyes asking for confirmation. “That’s so cool!”
He only lets out a small hum in response.
"Will I be as strong as you one day?"
"Sure. You already are." He hopes she never needs to be.
“I saw your picture too. And mommy’s. Also, Uncle Connie used to be bald back then.” She finishes with a giggle, the idea of Connie’s lack of hair amusing her. “You were like a superhero, weren’t you daddy?”
“I wouldn’t shoot that far.” He answers with a small smile.
Back then, Levi had never imagined the idea of having a family. There, caged between the walls, surrounded by those tremendous monsters. When there was no guarantee that you’d come back alive once you’re out there. How could he even think of bringing a child to the world, if he couldn’t even do the least that is to promise their safety?
But now, here she runs and plays outside, without a worry in the world, tirelessly. She doesn’t have to starve like Levi had to, she grows up with only all the good the world has to offer. She doesn’t know the worst of how things could be and Levi hopes she never does. She doesn’t yet understand the role Levi and you had played in creating this world, but she does understand the value of it. She asks questions sometimes, about the wheelchair and the eye and the hand. About your scars and why somedays you can't get yourself from bed. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know how to answer. And Levi knows, one day, he’ll have to tell her all of it, life back then and the life he had. But for now, he prays, let her grow up with only love and pureness. Let her see the world in her rose colored glasses. Something he never got to do.
She taps Levi’s leg as he bunches the hair to tie a ponytail. “Do braids.” She says.
“Braids? Don’t you always wear a ponytail?” Levi asks.
“Yes, but,” She tries to explain, stumbling for words. “Tash always pulls by it.”
Tash was one of her classmates, Levi knew from her frustrated rants about him. From what he could gather, neither liked each other much. “Next time he bothers you, you do the thing that I taught you.” He tells her.
“The thing with my hands?” She asked brightly, balling her hands to show him.
“Hey, no beating up kids at school. Levi!” You appear in the doorway, only catching the last bit of the conversation. “Don’t give her ideas. And you,” You look at your daughter who was smiling smugly. “I’ve been looking for you–wait, is Levi doing your hair?” You say, finally noticing and very surprised.
‘Yes!” She replies excitedly, “He’s doing braids! He’s very slow though.”
Levi playfully pats her head. “It’s because you keep moving.” He sighs. “Must you need braids? I’m not sure if I can–”
“Yes.”
Levi was about to say something else until she turned around, giving him the most adorable pout ever, eyes all round and needy, her brows pinched together. “Please?” She asks sweetly.
Well damn.
Levi tries, he really tries. But the word no somehow managed to disappear from his vocabulary, along with all of its synonyms. So he sighs, nodding.
“Levi, I can–” You start.
“It’s okay.” He puts up a hand, stopping you. He doesn’t know much about the process, but he’s spent enough time watching you do her hair. So he thinks he can manage it. “I can do it. Probably.” He says uncertainty.
It was slightly difficult to manage multiple sections of hair when you’re missing two fingers, but even surprising himself, he does manage it, after a few attempts. A little uneven, but works.
"Happy?" He asks her, patting her head.
It was good enough for the girl, who jumped up right after it was finished and cheered happily as an answer to Levi. She jumps to his arms, pulling him by the neck to plant a big smooch in his cheek.
“You're the best.” She beams at him, then running off to grab her bag which was by the door.
“Wow, mommy’s nonexistent now?” You fold your arms in mock offense.
She doesn’t answer, only picks up her bag and runs to hug you full speed, wrapping herself around your knees. “I love you.” She calls out, then turns to Levi. “And I love you too! I'm leaving now!”
Then she was out the door before you could say I love you back.
“Don’t run, you’ll fall.” Levi calls out to her, who was already far out of hearing range.
You closed the door. Then leaned against it, staring at Levi.
Levi looked away, cheeks heating up slightly, noticing the strange way you were staring at him, already knowing what comes after.
“So.” You said.
“So, what?” He said, glancing at you.
“Where'd you learn how to do braids?"
He huffs. "From you. I watched you do it.''
"Really?' It was so cute you could melt.
“Stop looking at me like that.” He grunts. “She’s my girl. I can do her hair sometimes, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“So, I’m not your girl?” You pout, exactly the same expression your daughter made just moments ago. “How come I don't I get braids?”
“I–” Levi starts, then huffing frustratedly. He can’t even say no to his daughter, who was he to say no to the mother? He tries nevertheless.
“I’m not doing it. Stop looking at me like that.”
You did not look away, pouting out your lips more.
“I won’t.”
You blinked, turning your expression sadder.
Levi gives up.
“C’mere.” He sighs.
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mo-aiki · 6 days
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I now love you, is it too late? (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)
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Summary: Heartbreak and romance are two sides of the same coin. They both deal with love between another. Your heart is broken but you are trying to move on, but someone is preventing you from doing so.
Notes: I never thought that the previous story would blow up like it did. You can read the first part here.
Warning: alcohol consumption, drugging someone, forced love, obsession, stalking, mentions of violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.
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The days after his conversation with you, he should had been elated. For the first time in his life, he wasn't bothered by you and your antics. He could finally get work done without you bother him at every corner to come visit him or play with him. For the first few days, he was able to finish everything for once in his life instead of having a pile to do the next day. But overtime, somehow he was dreadfully bored.
His office felt quiet. Almost too quiet. The only sounds he could make out were the papers shuffling, the clock ticking, and the the voices that came in and out of his office.
Also, overtime he had completed work for the month. He was used to working more the next day and having work stacked up to the point that he needed to catch up, that now he has no idea what to do once he finished work for a month or two.
Alaric thought he could read. He has always enjoyed reading in his free time. But once he got to reading, he felt bored once again. He never realized that the books he read were nothing but boring. The books were full of political theory, history of the most boring topics, and informative information.
His lunches were quiet, his dinners were quiet, and his stomach often rumbled when he forgot to eat.
Life felt repetitive, boring, and dull. He was stuck in a routine of eat, work, and sleep. Nothing ever happened.
When (y/n) was here, she would always drag him somewhere, she had wanted to go to. To go shopping, a picnic, a play, an opera, to watch duals, or to eat. He always felt tired after those things, but at least it brought him excitment.
(y/n) often made sure he would eat flavorful foods and her favorite foods, to the point that he knows everything she likes.
(y/n) often made a ruckus in his home. Always talking, calling servant’s, squealing at her romance novels, and chatting with everyone.
'At least the manor was never deadly quiet whenever she was around...' he thought of as he smirked.
Wait. Why is he thinking about her?
He should be happy that she is no longer bugging him as often as she did.
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He saw you outside. He was shopping for new cufflinks. His were "getting out of style" his secretary had told him. Maybe it was just a ploy to get him out of the manor, but he still went out nevertheless. He was in a jewelry shop. Unconsciously, he went to the one you often visited. The man knew who he was anyways, so might as well cut to the chase.
"Ah?! Your Grace!"
The man seemed to be looking for (y/n). "Where is Lady (l/n)? Doesn't she often accompany you?"
He just stood quiet for a moment before his secretary popped in. "His Grace is here to get cufflinks."
The man's eyes brighten. "Ah. Lady (l/n) has already thought of that for you. Please wait here Your Grace."
He brought out a box that he had gotten from a certain part of the store. He opened it, and there were square shaped, dark blue jewels, bordered with small diamonds, the metal gold. It looked like it suited him. Very well. She knew his taste well. She knew what he liked.
"If Your Grace does not like it, you can commission another..." said the man selling him the product.
Alaric shook his head. "No, it's perfect."
He signaled at his secretary to give him a generous check in his name as he left the shop, only to find you, looking at the ocean view from across the shop.
Why did it look like you were looking for something?
More importantly, why did it look like you were looking for someone?
You wore a bright dress, your favorite lace gloves, your prettiest sunhat and carried your favorite parasol.
He was confident that he was the only man who has ever had a very close relationship with you, other than acquaintanceship.
Wait, why was he thinking this?
Why should he care if you saw another man. This is an engagement of convenience anyways. There is no point in scrutinizing every man that either comes or came in your life.
But if you were going to be talking to men after him, they better be better than him. He was not going to be beaten by some half-rate man, who has never held a sword in his life, who has never had to train often to live up to your a standard(s), who has never had to deal with the responsibilities of being a duke from the moment he was born, who has not needed attention from you, and who has never lived up to your ideas of love.
He wasn't going to lose to a man who never even knew you like he did.
But he saw you were being accompanied by a maid after his thoughts had raged through his head. He walked closer towards you. He saw you.
Your eyes had seemed like the eyes that often looked his way when he greeted someone. Not like their lively selfs that he was so used to from you. Your eyes always shone brightly when he was in your presence.
Your smile, one of formality, not your genuine one. You smiled the brightest whenever he was around. Anyone could tell with that smile that you loved him.
You looked like any other person he had interacted with. Formal and in-line with etiquette.
Even your speech was formal. It was no longer bright and cheerful. It was no longer, "Alaric! What are you doing here?", it was now, "Pleased to see you, Duke Caius."
"It's pleasant to see you too, Lady (y/n)." he responded back.
You nodded you head while a wave of silence came through. He didn't talk, you didn't talk, both of you were looking at the distance of this port.
'She is rather quiet. Too quiet..." he thought in his head. Often she was the one who started up a conversation.
"I'm very sorry Duke Caius, but I must leave. I am shopping with a friend, and I wouldn't want them to keep on waiting for me, so, please excuse me."
You started walking off slowly, but then he spoke. "Would you like for me to escort you?"
You turned your head. He thought you would be smiling and agreeing to his suggestion immediately, holding his arm in a loving manner and chatting with him the entire way, like you used to do whenever he had brought out that idea.
But you had shook your head. "No, but thank you for your suggestion, Duke Caius. My guard is nearby here anyways."
You walked off as he could only look at you and your maid walking. He didn't even realize that his secretary had came back, as he only chased after you in the same direction.
He saw from a distance, you holding the arm of some man. A dull man. He was mad at that moment, but his anger wasn't towards you, it was towards the man you were with.
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You had became more distant with him. Avoiding him at every moment, like he was the plague. Every time he noticed her, she had seem to always step away from him, with every step she had taken, walking away from him instead of towards him like they used to do.
At parties, you would often avoid him, while his arm was being stuck onto by Lady Thompson.
Social events had you talking to the ladies, sparring no time for him.
Outings with no small talk.
Every little thing you had done to distance yourself from him, almost drove him insane. His head now full of questions for your sudden change in personality. In the span of a few weeks, you had all of the sudden became the most formal person on earth, to the point people started questioning the legitimacy of the relationship.
"It seems like they will break up soon..."
"Are we sure they are engaged? Lady (l/n)'s sudden change in personality must mean something..."
"How sad this relationship had to come to. It feels like they are in a married’s quarrel!"
"I heard that Marquis (l/n) is planning on annulling their engagement..."
"Really?!"
These nobles and their chatty lips. These rumors meant nothing. (y/n) would never let something like an annulment happen to them.
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He was bewildered. Shocked. Almost appalled with this letter.
He thought that she had delivered a letter to write to him once again, but this time, this letter was from Marquis (l/n).
Dear Duke Caius,
I regret to have informed you, that I am making a selfish and personal decision to annul this engagement between you and my daughter. I have came to this decision after her reaction and my bewilderment at the Royal Ball from 4 months ago, after you had escorted Lady Alina Thompson instead of my daughter.
I could see the heartbreak in her eyes, and as a father, it is painful to constantly see your daughter in constant heartbreak from the very boy you had known since he was young.
When your late father and I had planned this engagement for the both of you, I knew I would have to give up my precious daughter to a man I could trust, not a little boy who has yet to grown up.
You have yet to proven to me that you could be a man I could trust you with my only child, my daughter.
I wish you well and hope you will continue to collaborate and see the (l/n) house positively and as allies.
Sincerely,
Marquis (l/n)
The letter came with the annulment papers with it. He quickly looked through the papers too see your signature on them and your thumb print.
He stood quiet for a minute, before chuckling. "(y/n)...oh (y/n)..."
He felt like ripping the papers to shreds in the very moment.
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You were happy for once in your life. You had met someone special to you. Arthur Johnson.
A stableman who engaged in conversation with you when he was working for your family. He always had a kind demeanor. soft spoken, and was often willing to hear you. Despite your age gap with him (being 10 years), his status as a commoner, and his rugged appearance, you felt like for the first time in your life, you had actually met your prince charming.
He took on dates to the crowded places like small festivals and the farmer markets. Your first present from him being a cheap pendent necklace from him.
His personality was well liked by everyone as he seemed to have a good relationship with everyone.
His voice was deep and attractive, smothering your ears and causing you to blush around him whenever he talked.
He always called you 'princess' or 'my lady' whenever out and about with you, causing you to be flustered at such comments.
He had introduced you to his ailing mother. You never felt so bad for anyone. You had offered to help him, but instead he rejected such offers from you. "My lady, you really don't need to help us..."
"Nonsense Arthur! Your mother is sick and-"
He always shook his head. "I do not want to rely on my lady to always help us. Thank you for the idea though."
Elliot was boring.
Gregory was pretentious.
Adonis was suspicious.
Adrian was paranoid.
But Arthur, was a gentleman.
Until you never heard back from him one day.
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He had holed up in his manor until something had happened. He had gotten news of you being spotted on dates with other men.
Afterwards he had a reason to leave the manor from this point onwards. You were with a man after man often times. Talking, chatting, flirting, and being brought around with. He had his secretary look at the backgrounds of those men.
Low-ranking noblemen, and sometimes even commoners.
The perfect people to direct his anger at. After all, what are those families and people associated with them, are going to do against the wrath of Duke Caius and the Caius Duchy.
All of the sudden, these men had been riddled with debt and their families in financial ruins.
A son of a baron, tricked by a scammer he had paid for. He had fell for it, meaning he was too naive and not needed for (y/n), who was just as equally naive.
A son of a viscount, conned and arrested for the possession and the selling of forged art. The real artwork, costing millions, and in his own manor. He "might" had hired an artist to help him with it, paying off their own debt and giving them money. He was too irresponsible that he didn't even check to see if the artwork was genuine. (y/n) would had lived a life of cleaning up after him.
Another son of a baron, swallowed by loan debt after taking out loans to do his playboy schemes. He often bought expensive stuff in order to impress the women he was trying to bed with. Where did he get the loans from? He sure doesn't know, does he? He had troubles with infidelity. He will he constantly cheating on (y/n) if Alaric didn't catch it early enough.
A son of an earl, swallowed in gambling debt by him. He had seen him in the casino houses, and he thought why not taunt him. Plus, he paid off the casino house to always make him win no matter what. He was a gambling addict, spending his days holed up and gambling his money away. (y/n) would be left to die on the streets with nothing if she had been with him.
A stableman, in loan debt as well, after he had offered to help him with his ailing mother. But now his mother dead, and the loans still needed to be paid off. Otherwise, he could just kill him and sell his organs to the black market to get all the money back from him. Guess what option he did. He was poor, and poor men don't deserve her love if they cannot give her what she wanted. Plus, he might just brag often about his now, new lifestyle if she were to be with him.
The stableman was the most annoying in his eyes. His last words before he had slain him were, "Protect her for me, please, for this old bachelor..."
All of these men strengthen his point overtime. That he was the perfect man for her.
He is skeptical and less naive.
He is responsible.
He has never had issues with infidelity that he has known of.
He has never been financially irresponsible with money, nor has he gambled.
He has always had the ability to give her everything she has ever wanted.
He came to the eventual conclusion.
No man could replace him.
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You felt trapped.
A rumor had spread around about Duke Caius's wedding day coming up. You thought he was just going to get married to Alina, but instead you and your father were summoned by His Majesty.
He was congratulating you and your soon to be wedding day. "Congratulations Lady (l/n)! You must be a happy bride. And you too Marquis (l/n)!"
You and your father were confused, but still acted like everything was normal, until you brought it up. "Excuse me Your Majesty, but who has told you about this. I thought I had wanted it to be a smaller event..."
His Majesty let out a gleeful laugh. "Duke Caius came to me last week, talking about how now he had decided to plan his wedding. I thought it was a splendid idea! And thus I had given him permission to use the chapel. He seemed elated at the idea, and thus was willing to plan the wedding himself."
Your eyes widen as you nodded. Your head blanking out the entire time. 'Isn't that impossible, unless...'
You went running out of the palace, finding a carriage to use to get to the Ducal Manor. You needed an explanation of what was going on.
Once you got there, you immediately asked the butler where he was, only to see Alaric, looking happy to see you as he came down the stairs to the front of the manor.
"(y/n), my bride! You are just in time for your dress fitting."
He snapped his fingers to have the servants taking you somewhere as he followed, you resisting. "Wha-? No! Alaric, I have to ask about something!"
He smiled in front of you. The previous you would had elated and been happy at his smile. But now it felt uncanny. Like something was off.
"You have finally called my name..."
You gasped as the servants kept on dragging you to your dress fitting. His hand over his heart as he looked like a sad puppy all of the sudden. "Do you know what it feels like to be called one name for my whole entire life with such endearment, only for it to be taken away?"
"No! That's why I'm not here! LET GO OF ME!"
He snapped his fingers as the servants let go of you. He walked towards you, as he placed his hand on your cheek. All you could feel was how cold it was. Like it was ice. You looked directly at him. "I am here to ask, why are we getting married?!"
His puppy face came back, as both of his hands cupped you face. "(y/n), I thought this is what you had wanted..."
Your eyes widen as he looked directly at you. "A big fairy tale wedding, your dream dress, your knight in shining armor sweeping you off your feet, true love's first kiss...isn't this what you had wanted all your life?"
This is what you had always wanted, but not like this. Not while Alaric had this sudden shift in personality and when he felt completely different form the Alaric you had knew.
But also, when your feelings for him had wavered like tides in an ocean. "But I thought the annulment had gone through..." you had said to him.
He chuckled, soon going onto full blown laughter. "(y/n), I know you still want to get married to me. So let's have the wedding of your dreams." he said while placing a kiss on your forehead, something you would had blush at, if everything about this wasn't sketchy.
"But! But!"
"No buts. We are getting married in 9 days anyways. Now, let's go to your dress fitting!"
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Everything was too sketchy these past 7 days. Alaric had a sudden change in personality. An extreme one in fact. He all of the sudden became loving.
Following you everywhere.
Bringing you onto his lap while he works.
Having picnics with you.
Having tea with you.
Being your dance partner for practicing.
Locking you in his manor and giving you a splendid guest room while at it.
Coming into your room and reading you to sleep.
Increasing security around you.
Feeding you himself, personally.
Disciplining the male servants if they had touched you.
And the most weird one, not leaving your room, even while you slept.
He had changed, but for what? Now all you felt was creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior. Every single little thing done by him almost felt suffocating. Like he so desperately needed you to either be beside him or to in this manor.
You wanted to see your friends again. You wanted to talk to people again. You wanted to see your father again. You wanted to go shopping again. You wanted to see Arthur again. You wanted to do the things you did. You wanted to leave this suffocating manor for once and do something other than being restrained by him.
So you snooped. When he left, you went around his office. Previously, you had always barged into his office, always running your mouth in a tasteless way. But this time, you had avoided his office, unless he dragged you to it to be with him.
You looked around with something on your mind. "He must have the annulment papers somewhere..."
There was a family portrait of him and his father in his office. A portrait must mean that there's something behind it. Touching the frame, you opened up a secret compartment that was full of bank statements. "Elliot Lancaster, Gregory McClain, Adonis Lovesett, Adrian Hill, Arthur Johnson..."
All the men you had been with. The bank statements had shown how their wallets had gone empty in the span of a week or two.
Elliot and his family had gone bankrupt and sent to an island in the north.
Gregory had been charged with forgery and sentenced to 3 years in prison.
Adonis had been bankrupt and charged with assault against a Marquis for mingling with his wife.
Adrian had been cut off from his family due to his gambling addiction, and has now gone further in debt.
And Arthur. The nice man Arthur. His body was never founded when his mother reported him as missing.
Your eyes widened in horror as you looked at the other pages. He had planned it. From the financial debt to killing Arthur and selling his body parts on the black market. Each paper described the reports of the deeds he had done.
Especially for Arthur. His was the most gruesome one. Chopping him up into bits and selling his innards to the black market while dumping the rest to the ocean on Beckett's Beach, where you took your first date with him.
You couldn't help but squat out of fear immediately. Were you responsible for all of these mens' demise?
Would Elliot and his family still be living in the capital in peace if he never met you?
Would Gregory go back to being his artistic and art loving self if he didn't buy from that one painter you had told him to buy from?
Adonis was already kinda shitty.
Would Adrian change if you had stayed with him?
Would Arthur still be alive if you never noticed him?
You didn't know, and that's when you started crying. Your tears fell down rapidly like waterfalls. The papers, the bank statements, the pieces of news, the reports, all of them now wet with your tears on the paper. You couldn't help but feel for them, especially Arthur.
Arthur was now dead, and his mother soon meeting him.
And it felt like it was all your fault.
"We'll always be together, my lady, this old stableman promises."
Crying alone in Alaric's study, you thought about the moments you had with Arthur. They were all going to be a faded memory of the past. If only you weren't so naive and if only you knew.
"Why is my bride crying?"
Your head turned to see Alaric at the door of his study. You gulped as you got up, dusting your dress while at it. "I-it's nothing, Alaric..." you stuttered, trying to hold back your tears.
He came close towards you as he looked at all the papers on the ground and the portrait, open. He chuckled for a bit. "Did you read these?"
You shook your your head. "I just...found them, that’s all. I swear I didn't read them!"
He looked at the papers, then at you. You could tell he knew that you were lying. He always said you were an open book and how you wore your heart on your sleeve. "Don't bother lying (y/n)."
He pointed to the part on which you had stained with your tears. The paper transparent as he put the papers down on his desk, walking closer to you. Each step growing closer, each step he took feeling like he was mad. Each step felt like an eventual punishment for your actions. "Why were you snooping around in my office, (y/n)?"
You answered with the first thing on your mind. "B-because! I just...w-wanted to l-look around, Y-your Grace..."
"I told you..." He gently pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. "Call my Alaric once agin, (y/n)."
His words laced with anger. He was speaking almost like he was threatening you. He looked at the pendent around your neck. Almost like he never noticed it before. Taking the pendent in his fingers, he looked at it obsessively. "Who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"
You gulped instead of speaking. His hands felt cold when he touched your cheek, looking at you with his angry eyes. "I said, who gave you this necklace, (y/n)?"
"A-Arthur..." you mumbled.
"Who?"
"ARTHUR!" you said even louder before he started laughing hysterically.
"That peasant? Why bother keeping something cheap around your neck. I thought you hated these things?"
You used to, but now this necklace represented Arthur. "I-it's none of your b-business, Alaric!" you yelled out.
"It is my business. Considering you are to be my wife soon, something like this is unacceptable for a Duchess..."
He slowly got closer to your ear. "Especially if it came out that a peasant gave you such a thing...I wonder what would happen to your father...for allowing you to be romantically involved with a man of dirty origins..."
Your eyes widen. "Arthur isn't like that! You don't know him!"
You tried to walk out, only for Alaric to hug you from behind, holding you in a tight grip. You felt like you were losing air by the second once he held onto you. "He's never told you? His mother was apart of a brothel..."
You breath stopped as he whispered more into your ear. "He was the illegitimate son of a noble...people like that deserve to be killed for grasping an ounce of your attention..."
You tried to get out of his grip, but instead he had ripped off the necklace on your neck, letting it fall onto the floor and walking off to his desk, letting you go. You cried as you turned back to look at him. "You-you monster!"
He opened a velvet box with a diamond and sapphire necklace, placing it around your neck, smiling. "My beautiful (y/n)..." He gripped you arms tight, dragging you to the mirror in the study while putting the necklace together, smiling.
"We will be together forever and this necklace, is to symbolize your new life as Duchess."
You only looked at yourself wearing the necklace as Alaric's hands kept you still.
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"You can never leave me now..." he said, as he kissed your cheek.
You in your wedding dress as he went out into the hall.
Walking down the aisle with your father.
The flower petals dancing around you.
The songbirds singing their songs.
And your once dream husband at the alter.
"Do you take Duke Caius's hand, in sickness and in health, in wealth and or none, in forever lasting love?
"...I do..."
The final words of your previous life.
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A/N: A part 3 for married life or not?
Taglist
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713 notes · View notes
strawbeerossi · 7 months
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Silencing Spencer Reid
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Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Description: Spencer likes how you listen to him ramble about things that interest him. He also likes your method of telling him to shut up.
Content/Warnings: Reader is a little mean because she has a headache, Spencer ramblings, oral (f receiving), face sitting (duh), degradation, pet names (pretty boy)
Word Count: 1.1K
Kinktober Day Eleven: Facesitting
Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3
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You liked listening to Spencer talk, something about his voice being calming to listen to. Listening to him ramble was like heaven, watching him get excited to tell you every bit of information that plagued his brain on one specific subject. Spencer was honestly grateful, liking the way you actually showed care to what he had to say and telling him your own thoughts. However there was another side of you that he liked.
“Spencer, honey, can you please just give me five minutes? I have a really bad headache.” you spoke as you were walking through your shared apartment, your boyfriend following behind you like a little puppy. “But you haven’t even heard the best part about this episode! I mean, you have no idea how crazy it is when he-” Spencer was cut off by the palm of your hand pressed against his mouth.  “I love you so much but you need to just.. Fuck, go sit on the couch for a minute.” You snapped. You knew you’d feel awful about it later but right now you were just frustrated. 
Spencer wasn’t negatively affected, instead a rush of blood rushing down to his cock. He was getting under your skin, just what he was intending on doing. All he needed now though was you to shut him up, to put him in his place. He’d been sexually frustrated all day and he wanted nothing more than to have your soaked cunt on his face, making a mess of his jaw while you used his tongue to get yourself off. The thought of your slick arousal on his tongue was enough to make him drool.
“But baby, don’t you wanna hear about my theories? I mean the show is so interesting and you know I’m passionate about this character.” He was rambling now, only blushing as you shot him a warning look, one that he was used to from the amount of times he attempted to test you. He knew the punishment would be severe but he didn’t care, he needed to taste your essence sooner rather than later. “Come on..” 
Whenever Spencer wasn’t getting the hint though, you were frowning. Now if your head wasn’t pounding, you would’ve realized what he was doing. Right now though, he looked like a brat who couldn’t seem to follow your damn directions. “Go lay down. Now.” You murmured, the male perking up at getting just what he wanted before scrambling off to the bedroom. You were joining him a few minutes later, already pulling your pants down your legs along with your panties. “Don’t get any ideas, brats don’t deserve to be touched or cum. You are servicing me tonight. That’s it.” The harshness of your voice had a whimper rip from his throat, his head nodding slowly. 
Contrary to most men, Spencer could spend hours lapping at your cunt. He enjoyed making you feel good, your fingers tangling in his hair while shoving his face deeper into your warmth. He could cum just from that alone. “I’m gonna sit on your face tonight. Got it, pretty boy?” Just from the look on his face, you could tell that he was eager to flick his tongue into your sweetness, having you rock your hips against his face solely to pleasure yourself. “Yes!” He was desperate, head lifting as his eyes were fixated on your bare lower half.
After getting your shirt off and throwing it on the ground along with the small pile of your other clothes. “You know, Spencer.. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this.” You spoke in a low tone while facing him with a frown, body climbing onto the bed as you were crawling to get situated. With your knees on either side of Spencer’s face, you were glancing down at your boyfriend who had his usual doe eyes that were clouded over with arousal. “You need to listen better, you know. You shouldn’t upset me on purpose.”
Spencer didn’t have time to respond whenever he was face to face with your wet pussy, his hands coming up to hold your hips before gently tugging your lower half onto his mouth. 
His tongue was darting out to flick over your throbbing clit, your fingers tangling into his messy curls while you let your head fall forward with a soft breath. “Fuck, put that mouth to good use.” You spoke, the sinful sounds of suckling filling the room whenever he got the chance to take your bud into his mouth. When he’d pulled off with a pop sound filling the room, he didn't waste time to drag his tongue through your slit, giving himself a taste of what he was so desperate for. “Pretty boy, don’t keep me waiting.” You spoke, which he didn’t need a warning before his tongue was breaching your leaking sex. 
Pistoning his tongue into your sweet cunt, he relished in the feeling of your velvety walls constricting his tongue from the surprise of him getting right to work. He drank every ounce of arousal you gave him, eyes fluttering shut as his moans were muffling against your pussy. His hands were assisting you as you were rocking against the warm muscle working its magic, leaving you desperate for so much more. “Mmm, is this what you wanted? Me to ride that pretty face of yours? You could’ve asked, baby. You didn’t have to get under my skin and get yourself in trouble.” You tsked while glancing down at the fucked out face of your boyfriend underneath you. 
His vigor was making that familiar warmth in your stomach grow, knowing that you were close. Spencer had known your body by now, so as he knew you were close, he was focusing on your clit once more, sucking harshly as he had you letting out curses and sharp gasps as you were desperately rocking your hips against your partner’s face. “I’m gonna cum.” You whispered while both hands were roughly gripping his messy hair.
With a soft cry, it wasn’t long until your creamy arousal was flowing into his mouth, Spencer was eagerly licking up the sweetness as he was letting his head tilt back against the pillow with a deep groan. “Good job, pretty boy.” Your cooing caused a sheepish smile to spread across his face as he blushed.
“Go take a shower.” You hum, crawling off of his face while Spencer was pushing himself to sit up. His eyes were glossed over, his mouth and chin soaked, and his hair was all over the place from her fingers gripping and pulling it. “You look so pretty.” You cooed while making his blush deepen, drunk off of your pussy as he was slowly pushing himself to stand. “Can I please touch myself?” His voice was whiny, filled with need as he stared at you. 
“Nope. I told you, pretty boy, this is a punishment.”
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1K notes · View notes
daintcas · 1 month
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lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !
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"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy
pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader
summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.
contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger
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the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.
it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?
you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.
you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.
she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.
all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.
with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.
a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"
"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.
"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.
"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.
throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.
the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.
the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.
"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.
"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.
the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.
moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.
between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.
you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.
"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.
"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.
the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.
"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.
"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.
"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.
"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"
you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."
he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."
a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.
you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.
"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.
"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.
you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.
he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."
you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.
he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.
snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.
the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.
finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.
rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."
that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.
it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.
"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.
but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.
it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.
"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.
a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.
one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.
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junowritings · 2 months
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What about romanced Astarion reacting to the normally goody-goody Tav revealing that they stole the special potion from Araj before they left. He discovers this because Tav gives it to him as soon as they are out of sight from the blood merchant.
Oh I absolutely love this idea. Though writing this made me realize I need to put Astarion in my party more often. Went off on a bit of a tangent but I do hope you enjoy~!
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♡ Oh, the things we do for love, ey?
♡ Astarion plays nice with others in the interest of survival, and he’s made no attempts to hide that fact from you since you had really begun to bond. You on the other hand are akin to a bleeding heart, all too often going out of your way to do what you thought was right even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way as a result. At the beginning that attitude seemed pitiful - he figured it would simply end up getting you killed later down the line. And yet you’d rise, time and time again making an example of the morals that you set and surviving every encounter stronger than before. Even if your morals didn’t always align, he respected that tenacity.
♡ Even after you’d managed to worm your way into his very heart, the pair of you have butted heads more than once on the matter; at the high and mighty goody two shoes act that you face the world with. All of the reminders about doing good deeds for the sake of being good, not stealing from just anyone nor going behind others backs rummaging through personal effects for answers or loot. Not to mention all of that time spent helping others and listening to their plights as though they were your own. Honestly, darling, you really do make things harder on yourself by playing into other people’s sob stories. 
♡ Astarion never suspected that the encounter at Moonrise tower could have changed anything.
♡ He’s uncharacteristically quiet as you leave the room together after dealing with Araj, but that’s because inside Astarion is absolutely seething. A familiar feeling of disgust he’d longed hoped to quash down burns a hole deep within his chest, opening old mental wounds as though freshly torn asunder upon his flesh. He’s mad at that damned drow; the way she looked down upon him, using honeyed words that he knew were a damn farce because for fucks sake he’d been using the same tactics for well over a century. That look, that calculated appraisal as Araj gauged what the vampire spawn could offer her in exchange for her potion made his skin crawl, all too familiar with the look that spoke volumes of his value - as a means to serve her own whims and not an actual person.
♡ And then, when he’d shown reluctance, she’d turned to you, as though you’d reign him in and get him to bend to your will like some fanged pet you kept on a tight leash. Far from the truth, of course, but the lack of autonomy that Astarion felt watching the pair of you converse about him as if he wasn’t even there had him clenching his teeth hard enough that the ache in his jaw persists long afterwards.
♡ There had been a swell of satisfaction when you put your foot down on the matter, nipping her demand in the bud with a firm reminder that he had already refused her request - there was no more to discuss. The drow had gotten bored after that, uninterested in further discussion with her own desires now off the table, and Astarion was all too happy to be out of there as you trailed a few paces behind.
♡ Astarion stands by his choice, but another part of him kicks himself for turning down the reward. A moment of discomfort, to give up a piece of himself for a potion that could prove invaluable was all it could have taken. He had done it before - done it for centuries to placate that vile beast he once served - why would this be any different? A transactional relationship, one that could have given you a leg up in the battles ahead, and he’d refused. 
♡ He’s still stewing in these thoughts when a nudge breaks him from his reverie, a gentle brush of your fingers against his hand as you move into step beside your partner. Your touch is warm yet he prickles as though he’s been burned, pupils akin to pinpricks as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. He’s measuring you, for a moment. Takes in the brow furrowed and questioning eyes - not pity, concern - trying to gauge how he’s feeling. It’s a discussion for later, so Astarion dons that usual placating smile and turns to you, fully prepared to pull a spiel about that whole conversation being a waste of your perfectly good time. And then he notices.
♡ His ears perk up at a noise, the gentle slosh of something moving. Crimson eyes dart down to the source, to the hand you’d touch him with. It’s not empty - no, fingers curl tight around the corded neck of a familiar glass green bottle, and your nudge this time is more insistent as you press the bottle into the palm of his hand, urging him to take it. You relinquish the bottle to his hold, pale hands taking the glass and stirring up the liquid inside as he brings it up to get a better look. Surely this isn’t…
♡ But then sure enough you smile, a mischievous twinkle in your eye that makes his own widen as you shrug.
♡ “For you. Figured she didn’t need it anymore; since she just left it lying out in the open and all.”.
♡ The laugh comes before Astarion can stop himself - loud and unabashed from the sheer absurdity of it all. You? Actually stealing something? And for him no less! And they say that romance is dead, yet here you are wooing him one stolen novelty at a time. 
♡Hells he hadn’t even noticed that you’d swiped the damned thing - had it been when you’d turned the blood merchant down? Or back when she’d had her sights set on him? He doesn’t care for the answer, not really. He’s more impressed that you pulled it off, but Astarion certainly doesn’t miss the irony of it all. His lovely partner, casting aside your usual goody nature in favor of stealing something and getting one up on the woman who’d disrespected your lover. As if he wasn’t fond enough of you already - this was just another lovely little reminder of the lengths you’d go for him.
♡ His smile for a moment is all teeth, shoulders still shaking with the last dregs of laughter - which damn if he didn’t need - as he brings his free arm to curl around your side. The kiss pressed to your cheek is quick, vibrating with the appreciative hum that passes the spawn’s lips when you lean a little into him. Once he pulls away Astarion keeps his free hand looped around your side, the other holding the bottle up and giving the contents a dramatic little shake to show off.
♡ Perhaps he’ll keep this as a little secret; or maybe he’ll spend the rest of that night flaunting this potion teasing you for your first act of casual thievery. Whatever the outcome it’s worth the grin he flashes you as he gives a conspiratory wink and declares.
♡ “Oh my dear. We’ll make a fine miscreant of you yet!”
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back2bluesidex · 6 months
Text
Girl Crush - MYG
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Part of my Milestone Drabble Request Game. Find the request here.
Read the follow-up drabble, Afterglow.
Pairing: Husband!Yoongi X Wife!Reader
Theme: Angst, Unrequited love au, arrange marriage au
Wordcount: 1.5k+
Summary: It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at.
Based on Girl Crush by Harry Styles (Cover).
Warnings: unhappy marriage, unrequited love, yoongi loves someone else. this is very painful.
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: I had this idea sitting on my head for a long time now. Thanks to @jimintaemin for requesting this and giving me a chance of writing this. This is very angsty just as you wanted. Hope you like this. Hit me back with your feedback!:)
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“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”
“I assume you already know that this is a marriage of convenience, a negotiation between two companies. And I hope you will not expect anything from me. As long as it’s about responsibilities, I am okay with those. But don’t expect anything more.” Min Yoongi had said, cold and stoic, as if not conversing but stating some flat facts related to stock prices. 
He was not wrong. Whatever he had said are indeed facts and there was nothing you didn’t already know.
So you stood there, standing as still as a porcelain doll, ready to fall and break at any given moment. 
“And just so you know… I have someone.” he finished, diverting his eyes from you even though he never really looked at you properly. 
Although you were glad that he didn’t. You were more than happy that he didn’t witness tears rolling down your face, gathering below your chin and dropping down at the immaculate fabric of your wedding gown. 
Do tears leave stains? You hoped that was not the case. 
It’s not that you pictured a fairytale married life for you. You know arranged marriages come with more cons than pros. You knew you would have to pay the price.. but at the same time you had no choice. You were even more reluctant to do anything because it was him. 
It was and is Min Yoongi, who you fell in love with over the course of charity galas, executive meetings, quarterly gatherings, parties and so on. And he never once looked in your direction. But then again, there are very few people Yoongi really looked at. 
It was foolish for you to expect a man of his stature would not have someone to love, to be loved by. And it was even more foolish for you to think, you can be his wife, a real one.. and lead a life with him. 
However, now you know it’s impossible. And the realization made you feel helpless, caged and broken. 
“I won’t expect anything, I promise, but in return… Can we at least be friends? It will make things easy for both of us.” you’d uttered upon managing your voice and emotions. 
Only then he looked at you, like really looking at you with a small smile playing on his lips, he’d said “sure.”  
That was the moment you realized you had a girl crush. And it was the woman who managed to make Yoongi, your husband, fall in love. 
“I got it real bad.. Want everything she has That smile and that midnight laugh.. She's giving you now.” 
You thought, you would be angry. You thought every possible darkness would cover your senses, when you’d meet her for the first time. 
But wrong… you were. 
You had so many prejudices about this woman and you hated her with every drop of blood your body owns but all of it evaporated in thin air when she smiled at you standing right at your and yoongi’s door. 
She is beautiful, she is kind, she is loveable… and maybe everything else you can’t ever be. 
“Thank you so much, Y/N. I never thought I was going to see Yoongi ever again.” she’d murmured as she stood close to you in the kitchen, preparing dinner for you three. 
You had stared into her eyes then.. Trying to find mockery and a hint of brazen victory telling you, “you’re only his paper wife. I own his heart.” 
But again.. Again you were disappointed. 
In her eyes, there was no mockery, no pretense, no dishonesty.. Rather only understanding and kindness. Only then you understood why Yoongi loves her so much. 
Why will it never be you and always be her.  
That night as you stood at the balcony, enjoying the stinging sensation cold wind brought to you, you heard them laughing.
It was the first time you heard Min Yoongi laughing. Even though faint and muffled, you could still sense his happiness through the sound. 
Min Yoongi was finally happy... for the first time since the wedding ceremony... and you were not the reason. 
All of a sudden, you were jealous again, even though you were not sure if you had the right or not. 
“I want to taste her lips… Yeah, 'cause they taste like you I want to drown myself… In a bottle of her perfume”
You didn’t know what you were thinking when you invited her to your and Yoongi’s honeymoon. 
Both of your and his parents have been pestering you to set out for the trip. You have been using excessive workload as the excuse and you assumed Yoongi to do the same.
But a week ago, everything went south when Yoongi had a fight with his father. As a result, flights were booked, accommodations were chosen and you two were notified only two days prior. 
That night, Yoongi didn’t come back home. And when he did, he didn’t speak a single word to you. 
The visible frown on his forehead and the cold aura that oozed from him, made you want to make him smile, made you invite his lover to the trip secretly.  
She was already there when you two reached and you will never forget Yoongi’s reaction when he realized what was happening. 
The grumpy cold Yoongi broke into gummy smiles and giggles as soon as he saw her. They kissed right in front of your eyes and you silently cried. 
Oh how you wish, you could taste him too. How you wish, he would hold you like that, caress you like that. 
How you wish… he would love you like that. 
“I want her long blond hair… I want her magic touch Yeah, 'cause maybe then… You'd want me just as much”
 “Babe, could you please turn your head a little? Yes.. yes just like that.” 
You watched the man as he clicked photos after photos of the woman he loves, seemingly trying to document her beauty for a long long time.  
You watched her as her long blond hair flowed like a waterfall down her shoulder, wind ruffling it gently making her look even more beautiful. 
“Let’s take a selfie, will you?” she shouted at him and he chuckled. 
He buried his head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent, he said, “you smell so nice.”
You wondered, what she smelled like, what perfume did she use to make Yoongi look this satisfied. You even considered asking her, purchasing a bottle and drowning yourself in one of those if that means Yoongi would love to smell you too, he would curl himself around you late at night. If that means Yoongi would want you, just as much. 
“I don't get no sleep… I don't get no peace Thinking about her.. Under your bed sheets”
“Where are you going?” confusion dripped through Yoongi’s voice. You stopped at your tracks and turned to face him. 
“I will sleep in the other room. You two should have your space. I will send her in as soon as I am there.” you smiled at him, even though your heart bleed invisibly inside your chest at the thought of how they would spend the night together. 
“No, Y/N. We will adjust. You sleep here in the suite.” Yoongi commented, as firm as a verdict, as he stepped towards where you stood. 
“But Yoongi, I am alone, what would I do with all this space?” you sighed. You definitely didn’t want to be left alone at the honeymoon suite, decorated for the newlyweds. You hate it. Totally loathe the decorations. Those giant red hearts had been mocking you since the moment you stepped there. You might tear those to pieces if you were left there alone, raising endless questions regarding such an act. 
“You have done enough. You have done much more than you needed to and I feel like I’m taking advantage of your kindness. So, please… stay here. Enjoy the stay. We will manage.” giving you one of his tight lipped smiles, Yoongi slipped out of the room to spend the night with his lover. 
That night when you slid inside the covers, which smelled awfully like him because he took a nap earlier in the evening, you started breaking down. 
Your hopes, your dreams, and your heart all started crumbling right before your eyes. You held the duvet tightly around yourself and pretended it was yoongi wrapped around you, it was Yoongi, whispering sweet things in your ear, it was Yoongi, telling you that he loved you. 
Somewhere you knew, Yoongi is actually doing all these things in real-time but.. Not to you.. Not for you. 
You closed your eyes, tears streamed down your cheeks and wetted the pillow. You imagined your life as her… as your girl crush… as the woman your husband, Min Yoongi, loves. 
“I've got a girl crush… Hate to admit it but I’ve got a heart rush… It ain’t slowin' down”
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