#and I think that it could be a helpful approach

[cupid-styles]

brat (sex columnist!harry x best friend!y/n)

in which y/n is best friends with harry, a sex columnist, who needs a little help answering a reader's question.

word count: 3k

content warnings: SMUT!!!! (mean dom/bratty sub dynamic, dirty talk, pussy spanking, paddling, sir kink, degradation, slight edging, fingering)

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“You’re out of your mind.”

“I’m really not.”

“No, but you are.”

“It would be for work and work only—”

“I don’t care.”

Harry sighs as he lifts a hand to run it through his curly hair. The noisy puff of air is filled with unsaid annoyance and Y/N tries her best not to roll her eyes at her best friend’s stubbornness, instead focusing on toying with the bracelet around her wrist. Instead of replying, he quickly runs his fingertips over the trackpad on his laptop so it glows back to life. 

“Can you at least hear me out?” he asks, his tone teetering on a polite plea, “You know writing about sex is my job. How am I supposed to help this person out when I can’t even offer a fair answer?”

Y/N crosses her arms and shrugs and Harry wishes he could reach across the couch and push them to her sides. 

“What makes you think I have any experience being a sub, anyway?” she fires back, keeping her eyes glued on the TV in front of them.

They're currently binging the newest season of The Bachelor, but Harry was more so using the dialogue and Y/N’s periodic gasps as background noise. For the past year or so, he’s held down a job at an online publication as a sex columnist. He loves it — people write in anonymously, asking him questions about everything from premature ejaculation to open relationships. Under the pen name H.E. Bell, he gets paid to write lengthy, thoughtful responses, helping his readers with approaching whatever sexual issue they’re facing. And this week, his editor really wants him to address a particular question about a dominant and submissive relationship. 

The thing is, though, is the letter comes from a sub. And Harry’s a dom. 

A mean one, at that.

So while Y/N’s diving into a pint of her favorite flavor of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream (Phish Food, obviously), and Harry’s trying his best — and miserably failing — to place himself in the shoes of his submissive reader, he knows what he has to do.

“I hate to tell you, but you scream submissive,” Harry replies, pushing his laptop off of the couch and onto the coffee table. “Don’t even try to deny it. Just… just hear me out. Please. My deadline’s tomorrow afternoon.”

Y/N lets out an irritated huff as she grabs the TV remote and presses pause. Silently, she sits back against the couch, facing her best friend, and shoots him a displeased expression; a wordless allowance to speak. 

“I’m a dom and I’ve literally always been that way. You’re a sub, through-and-through. This person is asking about situations pertaining to experience as a submissive, and I can’t really provide them with the advice that they’re looking for since I’ve never been in that headspace.”

Y/N shrugs carelessly. She’s unbothered by his frank analysis of her subordinate behavior — it’s not exactly surprising that Harry, the sex columnist, is able to identify a sub, dom, or switch from 10 miles away. But that doesn’t mean she has to get dragged into his research, or whatever the hell he was trying to play it off as.

“Why don’t you just skip the question, then?” Y/N asks. “If you don’t have the right resources to offer an answer—”

“My editor thinks it’ll bring in a lot of page views,” he says, his throat bobbing with a swallow. His eyebrows draw together some, creating a small worried wrinkle between them. “Listen, I’ll fuck off if you’re totally uncomfortable with helping me, but you’re my best friend and I don’t know who else I could ask with this short of a timeframe.”

She sighs and brings her knees up to her chest. 

“Fine. Read me the question.”

A grin breaks out on Harry’s face as he grabs his laptop. He taps on the trackpad a few times as he brings the email up on the screen, eyes scanning over his bright inbox. 

“Okay, here’s what they said,” he clears his throat and Y/N really does roll her eyes this time, “Dear H.E.— I’ve been in a sexual relationship with my dominant for three months. Up until now, we’ve clicked really well. The chemistry is great and we always mesh really well both during scenes and aftercare. But lately, I’m worried I’ve been a little too bratty. For context, I’m a bratty sub with an attitude, but my dom knew that going into this. I fear that they’ll grow tired of my nonsense and insistent disobedience, but when I’m in my subspace or engaging in a scene with them, it’s hard for me to pull away from it. What should I do? Do you have any advice for what I can do as a sub to best help my dom?”

Y/N’s plucking at her bottom lip as Harry glances up from his computer. Blinking, she thinks for a moment before crafting a response.

“Well, it sounds like the sub needs to communicate their feelings to their dom. There seems to be a lot of insecurity.” she says. He hums, nodding his head as he types a few words on his keyboard. 

“Yeah, that’s true,” he murmurs, “They said it’s hard for them not to be in that bratty headspace, though.”

She shrugs, “I mean, if you’re a bratty sub, you’re a bratty sub. That’s just who you are.”

“Do you think there are any punishments that would work, then?”

“You’re the dom, shouldn’t you be able to answer that question?”

“I guess,” he replies, running his palm over the short bit of facial hair that’s grown on his chin in the past few days. “Spanking, edging, overstimulation, types of shibari, I guess…”

Y/N’s thighs squeeze involuntarily.

“...I just don’t know what works best.” he finishes his sentence, halting the tapping of his fingertips over the keyboard. “What do you think?”

She forces a swallow to coat her dry throat. “It depends.” she pushes out.

“Well, what works for you?”

She thinks for a moment. It’s been a minute since she’s been in a proper dominant/submissive dynamic — the last few times she’s had sex have all been one night stands and quick flings, all of which don’t allow enough time to learn about hard limits, punishments, and safe words. Her brain has to float back to a year ago, when she was sleeping with Reese, a soft dom who tried his best to tame her bratty nature but came back empty every time. He was good — the sex was good, but she wanted — no, needed — more.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really had a dominant… achieve that, I guess,” she mumbles thoughtfully. “I mean, I know what I like, as far as punishments go. But it’s not really about what the submissive likes, is it?”

“No,” Harry agrees. He hums as he opens up a second tab and she watches as he types the words “punishments for submissives” into the search engine. She sniffles and attempts to disregard the way her core instantly clenches. 

He’s silent as he reads through a few lists, occasionally jotting down some notes into his Google doc. Y/N swallows noisily when he glances back up at her, this time prepared with an apparent list of proposed consequences. 

“Okay, can you just tell me which ones you think most submissives would be fine with?”

She nods.

“Withgoing underwear in public?”

“Mhm.”

“Pussy spanking?”

“Yeah.”

“Nipple wax play?”

“Depends on the sub’s pain tolerance, but um… yeah.”

“Paddling?”

“I actually haven’t done that one before.”

Harry’s eyebrows raise. 

“No?”

She shakes her head. “None of my doms have ever had one.”

“Doesn’t sound like they were proper doms, then.”

“They’ve all been on the softer side,” Y/N explains shyly. “But… yeah. I guess it’s always something I’ve wanted to try.”

“Is it?” 

She can tell by the way his eyes have darkened, that there’s something wicked stirring in that brain of his. She knows she can put a stop to this now if she wants — he’s her best friend and he wouldn’t care if she ended the conversation here and now. 

But she doesn’t.

Not for a second.

So instead she nods. And she’s completely unsurprised by the next sentence that falls from his lips.

“Do you want to try it now?”

By now, Y/N’s brain is all fuzzy and melty, so she doesn’t even think before she’s nodding her head eagerly. Harry chuckles and closes his laptop, shuffling onto his knees to lean forward and pluck at her bottom lip. A smirk curves at his mouth as she leans into his touch.

“Getting quite desperate on me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, cradling her cheek into his palm. “Get naked for me then and I’ll go get the paddle. No touching while I’m gone.”

Her stomach flips at the domineering tone in his voice. All too quickly, they’ve fallen into their most intimate roles, and Harry’s carrying himself to his bedroom as Y/N continues sitting there, all gooey-eyed and foggy. And maybe he should have expected it when he returns back to the living room a few moments later to see her sprawled out across the length of the couch, her bralette and underwear still on with her fingers tucked beneath the waistband of the fabric.

“Kitten,” Harry all but growls, making Y/N shiver at the pet name, “Are you already disobeying me?”

She hums as she watches him through half-lidded eyes, soft fingertips petting at her pearled clit. His eyes glimpse down at the tented material and he instantly sets the dark red paddle down on the carpeted floor, kneeling between her legs.

“What’s your color?” he breathes, locking a hand around her ankle. Her pussy quivers just from the simple grasp.

“Green,” she answers, “I’ll tell you if anything changes. Safe word is licorice.”

Harry nods, allowing his large hands to float up her legs. They reach the gusset of her sodden underwear and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, snapping the fabric against her swollen pussy.

“Take your hand out of your panties now and I won’t smack your pussy until she’s raw.”

Y/N doesn’t move. In fact, he thinks her circling fingers only quicken.

“I’ll give you one last warning,” he grits out, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, “I’m not a nice dominant. You won’t be able to walk if you keep going against me.”

But of course, her hand stays glued to the bundle of nerves. Instead, she breathes out a sultry response: “Think I could cum like this, having you watch me.”

In a moment, her cotton underwear is being ripped from her body and thrown aside. He’s swift in his movements as he collects her wrists in his palm, squeezing them harshly and throwing them up, high above her body. She gasps, noisy and wet.

“I don’t fuck around with brats like you for a reason.” 

The first spank he issues to her puffy pussy is quick and fleeting, hardly offering a lick of pain. He’s eager to find where her pain threshold lies; if she’s all talk or if she can take the full force of his large palm. By the time he lands the sixth one, her skin now reddening beneath his smacks, he thinks he’s found it and he admits, he’s relatively impressed. 

“Aw, did that one hurt?” Harry mocks, watching as her face twists in an expression of discomfort. “That’s because punishments are meant to be mean. You’re not supposed to enjoy them, little brat. You’ve had it too easy, hm?”

“H-haven’t,” she stutters out, wincing as he delivers a seventh, “I’m good, sir, I swear—”

“Oh, bull-fuckin’-shit,” he retorts. “You’re a silly little brat is what you are.”

“‘m not—”

Smack—

“You are.”

She whines until he reaches the tenth one. She’s a wiggly mess of sniffles and whimpers and he shushes her, brushing a thumb over her clit. She gasps lowly and he laughs.

“On your belly.”

This time, Y/N doesn’t defy him and Harry is admittedly surprised. She buries her face in the throw pillow and he rolls his eyes at the theatrics. Before picking the paddle up off the floor, his blunt fingertips scratch at her scalp, gentle and kind as they trail down to the nape of her neck. 

“What’s your color, kitten?” he asks softly, rubbing a docile palm over her bare ass.

“Green, sir.”

“Do you still want to try the paddle?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, “We’ll start with five and then see where you’re at. You know what to say if you want me to stop, right?”

“Red or licorice, sir.”

“Good girl.”

Since it’s her first time, he decides to ease her into it. He uses only a smidgen of his strength to smack the paddle against the thick of her cheek, watching as the wood ricochets. Her skin jiggles in response and he swallows, noting the way her nails already dig into the couch.

The second and third are just as light but he adds a bit more pressure to the fourth and fifth. When he’s finished, he rubs over the flush skin, slow and intentional.

“How was that?” he asks. 

“Good,” she replies, her voice slightly muffled from the pillow, “I can take more.”

A hand quickly finds its way to the back of her neck and her eyes instantly widen. He shifts her head, smushing her cheek into the soft fabric so her voice is no longer dulled. 

“Need to hear you loud and clear,” Harry says. “And now you’ll count for me.”

When the oak paddle makes contact with her ass for the sixth time, she grits her teeth but still calls out the number. She follows suit for the next five and, while it’s painful and harsh in the most uncomfortable of ways, she’d be lying if she said her skin didn’t feel like it was on fire. She’s burning for him, feeling her arousal leak down between the apex of her thighs with every last spank. 

“Good job, kitten,” Harry announces, dropping the paddle at the end of the set. “You did good, hm? Did the bratty girl learn her lesson?”

Y/N’s bottom lip juts out in a pout when his soft palms begin to soothe her aching bum. He instantly takes notice, wrinkling his eyebrows in confusion. 

“Can’t give you anymore tonight, kitten. It was only your first time.”

Instead of replying, she simply shakes her head.

“Use your words. I’m not a mindreader, brat.”

Swallowing, she lifts her head up slightly, only enough to give her a peek of Harry’s concerned expression. 

“W-wanna cum,” she mumbles, blinking at him, “Will you make me cum, sir?”

And instead of immediately getting what she wants, Harry does the unthinkable.

He rolls his eyes.

“You act like a slutty brat all night, begging to get paddled, and now you want me to make you cum?” 

She nods, ashamed and embarrassed.

“What the fuck makes you think you deserve that?”

“I-I took my spankings and paddlings without complaining. And I didn’t disobey you a-after that.”

“But you did defy me to begin with, didn’t you?” he pushes, weaving his hand into the hair at the back of her head. His fist tightens and he lifts her head so her neck cranes back. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you want to cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But not only do you want to cum— you want me to make you cum.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine then,” he decides, sitting down and leaning back against the couch cushions. “Come here. Straddle me.”

She forces herself onto her knees and ignores the way her ass and pussy both sting from her punishments. Right now, all she can focus on is her buzzing clit and its need for attention. 

She does as she’s told and splits her thighs to fit his own legs between them. Almost instantly, he cups a hand beneath her mouth and glares at her expectantly. 

“Spit, brat. Are you dumb?”

She shakes her head, allowing saliva to pool behind her lips before spitting it into his palm. With his eyes staring into hers, he lowers his spit-slick hand down to her mound and pushes a finger inside of her. Immediately, she clenches around it, her eyes threatening to flutter shut.

“Keep them open,” he instructs, “Jesus, your cunt is already milking me.”

She swallows and forces herself to maintain eye contact with the man sitting before her. He’s merciless in his ministrations, especially when he nestles a second, then a third finger and curls them up to her most sensitive spot. Her hands form tight fists as she grinds against his hand, moaning loudly when his thumb reaches her clit. 

“What a desperate little pussy,” he murmurs, speeding up the tight circles over the swollen bundle of nerves, “You like getting stretched out, don’t you? Say it.”

“I-I love when you stretch me out, sir.”

“Of course you do,” he smirks viciously, “Is your cunt gonna cum like this?”

“Y-yes, sir—”

“Ask for permission first, kitty.”

“Please sir, can I cum? P-please?”

She’s whimpery and mewling as she bounces helplessly on his fingers, the ribbon in her lower stomach threatening to unravel at any given moment. He hums, stilling the digits inside of her.

“Hold it.”

“Sir—”

“Hold it, brat.”

Her pussy clenches around him but she does. She restrains herself until he finally allows the ribbon to come undone, a slew of whines and curses sounding from her plush lips as she does.

It feels like it goes on forever but when the pleasure finally ceases, she collapses into his chest. Harry gently pulls his fingers from her center and wraps an arm around her waist, giving it a gentle, loving squeeze. 

He lets her stay like that for a bit and, maybe selfishly, he enjoys having her limp, exhausted body so close to his. 

“Gotta clean you up and rub some salve on your bum,” he finally manages out, ducking down to whisper the words in her ear. 

Tiredly, she nuzzles her head against his shoulder. “Five more minutes?”

He swallows. 

He doesn’t think she’s in her subspace, but he knows she’s sleepy and fuzzy from the mix of pain and pleasure he just instilled on her body.

And so for that, he’ll give her five more minutes.

Six, if she’s lucky.

#writing #harry styles #bffrry #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles filth #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry's house #hs4 #harry's house album #fine line #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles angst #harry styles drabble

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: robin notices her brother's little (huge) crush on you. ❀ ˎˊ- sunday x gn!reader ❀ ˎˊ- wc: 829 ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: maybe ??? ooc sunday idk sunday doesnt exactly have smitten moments ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: wrote this to calm the voices because this man is rotating in my brain rent free during exam week (i wrote this before finishing the 2.2 quest please dont attack me i am just a girl) ❀ ˎˊ- img credits

They're quivering again.

The first time, Robin convinces herself that she must’ve imagined it. She brushes it off and continues her conversation with her brother - detailing all of the things she’d seen during her tour throughout the cosmos while he listens patiently, as he always has.

But then comes a second, and a third, and then a fourth time, and Robin knows that she isn’t hallucinating from a lack of sleep.

It doesn’t help that Sunday’s eyes aren’t exactly focused either. Usually, they’re soft and attentive, reflecting how eagerly he listens to her stories. But today, they’re distracted - honed in on something in the distance as if caught in a daze. And those wings of his - fluttering ever so slightly, a tell-tale sign that has Robin smiling knowingly.

“Brother?” she says softly. When that doesn’t work, she gently snaps her fingers before his face.

Instantly Sunday startles, blinking rapidly before his attention returns to Robin and he settles back into his serene state. Robin giggles at him, and Sunday merely rolls his eyes playfully in return.

“Sorry about that,” Sunday says sheepishly, coughing into his fist. “With the Charmony Festival approaching, I’m afraid my mind has been rather… preoccupied.”

Ah, yes, the Charmony Festival - a convenient excuse, Robin thinks amusedly. But for her brother’s sake, she plays along.

“You really should rest, brother,” she lightly chides him, “even if you are the Oak Family head, all this stress isn’t good for you.”

Sunday smiles warmly. “Yes, of course.”

They both know he isn’t going to listen (stubbornness runs in the family), but at least Robin can’t say she didn’t try.

Her brother’s gaze wanders again, and his wings follow suit. Robin almost sighs in exasperation at how obvious Sunday is being. Suddenly, she’s grateful that they were the only Halovians in Penacony with wings - Xipe knows the embarrassment they’d face if someone caught on.

As discreetly as possible, she sneaks a peak behind her to follow Sunday’s gaze and pinpoint the source of his distraction.

She doesn’t find much, just a few Dreamchasers talking amongst themselves - a common sight in Golden Hour. They aren’t doing anything out of the ordinary, simply eating and enjoying the sights as any normal tourist would. Just as she’s about to question Sunday, her gaze lands on you.

You weren’t doing anything special, no, but something about the way you carried yourself and talked with the people around you made you stand out, as if a ring of light had enshrouded you like a halo. There was no hostility nor malice that Robin could discern in your features, only pure joy and warmth that reminded her of a fireplace.

If she had to describe you in one word, it would be freedom.

“Who are they?” she whispers, leaning closer to Sunday so that he can hear her. Sunday flinches, heat rising to his face as he realizes he’s been caught.

“N-No one, really,” he hastens to deter her. “Just another Dreamchaser, one of the Nameless who came to Penacony on vacation.”

“Really?” Robin teases, fully facing him now. “They don’t look like ‘just another Dreamschaser’ to me.”

She’s never seen her brother so nervous. “…And what makes you say that?”

Robin daintily points to one of her wings, fighting back her laughter as the realization slowly dawns on Sunday. “You were fluttering, brother.”

Within the blink of an eye, Sunday’s skin burns bright red. He buries his face in his hand with a groan, and Robin bursts out laughing, soft giggles escaping her as Sunday’s wings, his traitors, come to shield his face from the embarrassment.

“It’s okay,” she finally manages out. “I’m glad you’ve found someone you like that much.”

“That’s not-” Sunday sighs in defeat, realizing that any argument was futile. Pinching his nose, he tries to salvage the situation with a deep breath. “Putting that aside, what were you saying about Asdana?”

Robin plants her hands on her hips, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Don’t try to change the subject, Sunday.”

“No, I’m sure you’ve more interesting stories -” Sunday tries to prattle on - anything to escape this conversation. Robin has half a mind to pinch his cheek until he caves, but she doesn’t have to.

In the midst of his pitiful attempts to turn the conversation topic elsewhere, Sunday’s gaze betrays him and wanders to you again - only this time, you’re looking at him first. Your eyes meet for a second, and you offer him a friendly smile and wave.

And that’s all it takes for him to melt.

Robin watches, entertained, as Sunday waves back, his wings now flapping in delight at the brief interaction. His smile is relaxed now, and his eyes are drowning in something that Robin can only describe as lovesickness.

She lets out a loud sigh, fondly shaking her head as she looks at her brother.

There’s no doubt in her heart now - he’s smitten.

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

tags: @sh0jun, @themoderatelyawesomeninja, @xphantasmagoriax, @rainswept, @lucensei

@akutasoda @naraven

#—stellaronhvnters. #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #sunday #hsr sunday #sunday hsr #hsr sunday x reader #sunday hsr x reader #sunday honkai star rail #honkai star rail sunday #x reader #reader insert #y/n #archives 🏵️

[mrsparrasblog]

You're losing me pt 4.

prev part. part 1 next part

TW: Drug use, mentioned rape, mention of violence, medic is the worst human on earth

Simon sat down next to Johnny on his bed, holding the Scotsman's hand while giving him a reassuring nod. "We have the whole day time."

"It's complicated."

"I will understand."

"Promise to believe me."

"Promise." Simon didn't know exactly what had happened or how Johnny got this way. He always admired Johnny for his confidence and the way he made everything seem so easy. Seeing his boyfriend like this broke his heart. He knew Johnny would never cheat on you; he loved you, everyone loved you. He remembered that one day Johnny got piss drunk on a mission and a bird approached him. He showed her pictures of you for 10 minutes, telling everyone he had the most beautiful lass on earth. This man wouldn’t cheat, especially not with her, definitely not his type.

Simon thought she had just gone into Johnny's bed at night, removing her clothes and gaslighting him that he cheated. But when Johnny told him everything about the drugs, about the rape, about the way she tried to blackmail him, he felt like he needed to throw up. He was too young to protect his mother from this. He couldn’t do anything when it happened to him. He didn’t know you when it happened to you. But this time, he was going to kill the rapist. "You’re a good man. Don’t let her manipulate you into something you aren’t."

"I feel like shit."

"This won’t go away easy, love."

"I don’t know what to do." And he really didn’t know. Everything seemed and felt so lost. Simon believed him, right? But what if she tells everyone he raped her? It will be over with his military career. After she pulled that stunt you wouldn’t believe him anymore. The look in your eyes almost broke him completely. This was wrong. It went too easy for her like she had done this many times before or had been planning this for years. It was too easy.

"Let me fix it for you, Johnny." He was determined to do this. Through his head already went 1000 ideas on how to kill her. But every way was too easy, too nice for her. Rip her head off. Sell her off to the black market so she will experience first-hand the crimes she did to others. Burn her alive. Many possibilities.

"Don’t kill her, Lieutenant."

"You know she will do it again. Not only to you but to others."

"Do you think she already did this?" Johnny fiddled with his wrist. The bracelet that you bought him to help with his ADHD was gone. It always calmed him. You told him how you searched through whole Etsy to find some gems that should calm him down. He didn’t believe this shit, but it indeed calmed him down since it reminded him of you. And right now, you were the only thing he needed. He needed you to tell him that he isn’t dirty, that he isn’t at fault, that he is a good man.

"Would explain why she was transferred so fast to us from her old unit."

"Fuck." This needed to stop. He couldn’t let that happen to more innocent people.

"Let’s talk to Price, then I’ll take care of her, and after that, we get our girl back." Simon missed you just as much as Johnny did. For a split second, he was afraid that you were mad and disappointed that he didn’t check on you. But that wasn’t the selfless girl he fell in love with. He knew you would understand if you only knew. He could already imagine how you would apologize even though you didn’t do anything wrong. You were different than the medic scum.

"Do you think she’ll take us back?"

"Yes, promise." He placed a small kiss on the shaved part of Johnny's mohawk, a small gesture that the Scot always loved. Simon always knew how to calm him down. With that, they left in the direction of Price's office.

-------------------------------

He woke up with an immense headache and the urge to throw up. John really drank too much the last few days, but this will end now. He will concentrate on you and the job again. You forgave him for lying, at least that was the last thing he remembered before you brought him to his bed. On his bedside table stood a glass of water and one of your self-made brownies with a small note. "Take care of yourself, bear." You always jokingly called him a bear because that was what he was to you. John was the big cuddly bear who always kept you safe.

He knew by the amount of alcohol he drank yesterday, he should probably head to the medical department for some meds. He would never tell anyone, though. He was a hypocrite sometimes, always letting the other hungover soldiers run miles to torture them for being so irresponsible to drink before training. But he could afford the luxury of taking meds against his hangover.

So John went to the medical. He was annoyed when he only saw her there.

"Hello, Captain." She smiled brightly, which made him almost throw up on the spot. There was always a difference between the real, sweet-like-a-cake, like his girl, and the artificial acting sweetness she faked. It was disgusting. "Is there another medic or nurse in here today?"

"No, sorry, Captain."

"I'll go then."

"Come on, Captain, be professional. What do you need?"

"Just something against my hangover." He can be professional and still respect you, right? You won’t be mad he talked to her.

"That was easy. I'll bring you something."

She came back, still with that creepy artificial sweet smile. In her hand was a glass of water with, judging by the displaced white particles, meds. "Just some pain meds against headache and dehydration. Drink up, Captain, and then stay here for 20 minutes for the next med."

John drank it up. After a few minutes of sitting in the chair, he felt his limbs tingle weirdly. This must be one of those side effects of the meds.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Weird name.

"Don’t call me that." He tried to leave, but it felt like his body didn’t do the things he wanted anymore like he was paralyzed.

"I wouldn’t do that, John."

"What was in there?" This can’t be fucking true. This is one of those weird drunk dreams.

"Oh, baby, just some mild paralyzer. Don’t worry, it only lasts three hours, and you can still talk. That’s great, isn’t it? Oh, and Viagra."

Fuck, this is true. This is how she got Johnny. She is fucking sick. "What do you want?"

"You know, I really tried to be nice, but you all only talk about her all the time, so I took matters into my own hands." She said as she slowly sat down on his lap. John tried hard to do anything, but he wasn’t able to move.

"Look, you’re a pretty girl. You don’t need us. There is someone who loves you." He tried to be nice, and use his words to come out of this situation, but she already removed his pants. He knew it was over there until he heard the sudden voices of Johnny and Simon. He knew she could never outsmart them, and she knew it too.

"Fuck, fuck," she screamed, gathering the remaining meds and her things. She ran out of the room the second she saw the door open.

"Fucking hell, Captain, you're okay?"

"That fucking cunt drugged me. Get a fucking nurse here." This all didn’t go like Simon's plan. It felt like she was always a step ahead of them.

----------------------------------------

Kyle didn't notice any of the drama going on in medical as he used his time in the gym. Well, more of texting you instead of being productive, until.

"Fucking hell."

------

Tag list: @littlechomper @ab12305 @darkangel4121

A/N: I know you are waiting for her downfall, it will come promise.

#cod #call of duty #tf 141 x reader #captain john price #cod mwii #cod x reader #cod mw2 #john price #simon ghost riley #tf 141 #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz x reader #cod mw #ghost cod #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soapghost #soap cod #soap x reader #ghoap #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost #simon my beloved #simon riley x reader

[lazyjellyfish300]

Gentleman part 4🌼💌

AU Geneticist CEO!Miguel O'Hara x Fem Intern College Student! Reader

Synopsis: Noir speeds steadily towards your sugar daddy's grand estate in the countryside after rescuing you from the college football game from hell... Word count 6.9k

A/N: I'm so grateful for the support on this fic and others 🖤 thank you for your patience. 🖤��🫶🏽 This art by blahhberry on insta is Dr. O'Hara's face claim btw. 🥰 I put my whole heart into this chapter so pretty pls let me know what you think 😁🥰

CW: MINORS DNI, SMUT(P IN V, FINGERING, ORAL F RECEIVING), SUGAR DADDY RELATIONSHIP (BOSS/EMPLOYEE), POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, OOC MIGUEL, LEGAL AGE GAP, READER IS MID-LATE TWENTIES ISH, MIGUEL LATE THIRTIES, TALK OF ASSAULT, DRUNKENNESS, COMFORT, FLUFF, INSECURE READER, LITTLE ANGST

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

------

You wake up from your nap as you hear the sound of gravel crackling under the tires of the Mercedes as you come up to a long dirt road. Your eyes widen as you approach a tall, ornately crafted black iron gate nestled between two large trees. Noir leans out of the window, punching in an access code and waving a badge with an elaborate two step verification process before the gate opens slowly towards the car with a loud creak and a groan, a small cloud of dust being kicked up in its wake. Noir drives forward, down a long, winding driveway. 

You squint and your mouth falls open at the sight in front of you. Seemingly endless expansive miles of greenery in what appears to be a private vineyard and gardens, the bushes neatly trimmed and groomed with tiny flowers blossoming from the branches, vines weaving neatly in intricate patterns up a gargantuan, ivory colored estate with a black roof and dim lights, a gorgeous stone fountain with teal lights running in the front of it. 

But, Noir makes a right hand turn, traveling down another twin driveway that runs further down, a little deeper into the trees. When you finally reach the end of it, there's a comparatively smaller, but still gorgeous farm style country house nestled in the middle of several tall trees. 

Noir pulls into the garage, your eyes widening at the two fancy vintage sports cars and the two private golf carts parked in the other vacant spots. Noir gets out, opening the backseat door and helping you. You stumble, your vision still chaotic from the leftover booze in your system, holding onto Noir as he coaxes you inside the house. 

Your mouth falls open as you enter the gorgeous home. Polished wooden floors and warm cream colored walls are the interior. You take a deep breath, the smell of fresh linen and florals flooding the house mixed with the crisp air of the trees outside. 

"Welcome to the guest house, madam." Noir says with a hum. "Here, remove your shoes please. All outside shoes except bedroom slippers should be kept in this room." 

He helps you pull off your dirty shoes, leaving them in the mudroom next to the garage door as he brings you further inside. 

There's a huge, beautiful kitchen with a large island in the middle with granite countertops, a large bowl of fresh lemons as the centerpiece, giving an air of zest from the delectable citrus. Your socks gently glide along the furnished shiny wooden floors, reminding you of when you'd slide around the house in your socks as a little kid. 

Noir brings you to the living room, an enormous TV mounted on the wall above a stone fireplace, a couple of candles burning quietly on the mantle giving it a peaceful glow. He sits you on a large, cushy sectional couch that could seat a dozen people with tons of fancy decorative pillows with gray accents, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your legs and turning on the TV to your favorite comfort series. 

"Getting you water and food, miss." Noir gives you a thumbs up as he disappears into the kitchen. "Madge! You here?" 

A faint call comes from outside. You sit up on the couch, craning your neck a little bit. A small stout woman is working in the gardens outside. You stand up, walking to the window, your mouth falling open again as you notice a gorgeous square swimming pool with a connected hot tub, colorful lights illuminating the bottom of it. 

There are several rows of fruit trees: apples, peaches, pears, nectarines, and apricots, and a vegetable garden with tomatoes, eggplant, carrots, pumpkin, squash, cauliflower, potatoes, zucchini, cucumbers, and radishes where Madge is kneeling, standing up and brushing the dirt off her apron as she brings a basket of freshly harvested veggies inside. 

"What's on the menu tonight, Mrs. Madge?" Noir asks the jolly cook/housekeeper pleasantly, starting to fiddle with a Rubik's cube he takes out of his trenchcoat pocket as he leans casually against the kitchen countertop. 

"Homemade Tomato Bisque, Copycat Cheesy Wisconsin Cauliflower soup from Zupas, and Chicken Orzo with bread bowls!" 

"Mm-mm! Sounds delightful as always, Mrs. Madge. Just letting you know we have a guest tonight." Noir nods in your direction. 

"Oh!" 

Madge turns to look at you, offering you a friendly handshake. "Pleased to meet you, miss." 

"This is her, by the way." Noir says, holding his hand against his mouth as though he was telling her a secret. 

"Ohhh?! Well in that case welcome, welcome!" Madge bubbles with a huge grin. "I'm so happy to finally meet you. The doctor is quite fond of you...I've heard nothing but glowing things. Please, make yourself at home. Oh, careful dearie!" 

She rushes to your side as you stumble a little, still in a daze from earlier. Noir signals to Madge discreetly that you've been drinking. 

"Ohhh...well in that case we better get some soup in your system ASAP. Come with me." 

She leads you back to the couch, putting each of your legs up on the cushions so you are reclined back, stacking pillows behind you and tucking you in once again, making sure the TV is at a good volume. 

Noir returns with some ice water, and Madge reappears a short time later with a tray with a brimming bread bowl of your favorite soup out of the three she cooked, a slice of freshly baked french bread for dipping, a small bowl of the reddest strawberries you've ever seen, and a small garden salad with the freshly picked vegetables on the side. 

You hum graciously, and thank her enthusiastically, each sip of the divine soup bringing you slowly back to life by the spoonful as you watch TV, the agonizing ache in your head slowly dissipating. 

Noir sits in one of the leather recliners with his soup and his Rubik's cube, eating silently for a bit before he checks in with you. 

"You feeling better, missy?" 

You nod, pressing a finger to your lips as you swallow a bite of the French bread. 

"M-much better...thank you." 

Noir nods, tweaking one of the sides of the Rubik's cube. "You gave me quite the scare back there, miss. Those bastards at the game went too far this time." 

You hold back a shudder, your head pounding at the cloudy reminder. "Yeah....I'm sorry you had to be in the middle of it. It's all my fault." 

"Now..." Noir shakes his head, setting down his Rubik's cube. "It is not your fault, missy. Being assaulted is never the victim's fault. I'm just doing my job. To be honest, you're one of the first girls the doctor has had that have actually treated me like a human being instead of a glorified chauffeur or personal assistant." 

You faintly smile at that, not too keen on hearing about Miguel's exes, but your ego slightly boosted from Noir's glowing praise of you. 

"R-really?" 

"Yes ma'am." Noir says with a hum, taking a generous slurp of his soup. "You are an absolute gem to be around, miss. I think you underestimate yourself and discount your worth too much. The other ladies were usually pleasant in the beginning, but, that quickly wore off over time and I kind of became more of a caddie they could boss around." 

You nod, eyes sympathetic towards Noir. 

"Well, if I ever become bossy or short with you, I give you full permission to say, 'you know what y/n, you're being a bitch.'" 

Noir gives a low chuckle. "I could never refer to you in that way, miss. But, I appreciate it. I'll definitely correct you, but perhaps using a milder way of putting it."

He grins and turns his attention to the screen. "So, what are we watching this evening, madam?" 

"Umm, looks like an older movie, Casablanca, I think it's called?" 

"Ahhh, good taste, madam. I love this one." Noir sets his empty bowl aside, reclining in his seat as he watches the movie next to you. 

"What are you kids watching?" Madge pokes her head in with a smile. 

"One of the greatest romances of all time: Casablanca, Mrs. Madge." Noir hums. "Come on, pop a squat and stay a while." 

"Oh I'd love to!" Madge beams at the kind invitation and smile you offer her, scooting over a bit on the couch as all three of you enjoy your evening movie and warm soup. 

-----

Hours later in the middle of the night, a black sports car rolls in the driveway. The hum from the garage opening doesn't disturb your slumber on the couch as Miguel arrives home. He steps out, rubbing his shoes on the mat before slipping them off and venturing inside, still clad in his dress clothes with a tight dress shirt layered underneath a black cashmere sweater with tight dress slacks that highlighted his strong thighs. 

He does his usual visual scan of his home as he enters making sure everything is in order, giving a warm smile to Madge who's doing inventory in the kitchen. 

"Evening, Mrs. Madge." Miguel says pleasantly, opening the fridge and grabbing a fancy artesian bottled  water. He takes a generous sip, sighing as the cold water wakes him up. "You're not staying too late are you? On your way out soon?"

"Yes, doctor." Madge hums, clicking her pen, setting down her clipboard on the countertop. 

Miguel nods, taking one more sip. "Is she here?" 

"On the couch." Madge nods in the direction of the living room. "Poor thing passed out after dinner. I think the soup did her good after that awful day she had." 

Miguel feels the rage rushing back into his body at the reminder. He had spent nearly an hour on the phone with the campus police and the dean of the university. Justice was going to be temporarily delayed, due to the ongoing investigation that was just opened and your testimony still needed to fill in any gaps. He knew that would be something quite heavy for you to deal with, and the most important thing for you to do now, would be to rest. 

"Her room is ready then, all of the clothes and items I requested have been delivered?" 

"Yes doctor." Madge answers. "Her closet is stocked with all the clothing items you sent me and jewelry , underwear, and shoes. The monogrammed towels and robe are in her bathroom. Fresh linens on the bed in the color you requested. I also made sure each bathroom has enough toiletries. I haven't had a chance to buy all of her beauty and makeup items she said she wanted just yet, since I didn't realize she was coming tonight, but Noir said he can do it in the morning after breakfast. Oh, and a fresh set of pajamas and slippers and her welcome presents on her bed for tonight." 

"Good, good..." Miguel nods. "That should be just fine for now, thank you Madge. I do apologize for all the last minute list of things on short notice but thank you for getting everything together that you could." 

Madge nods with a smile and goes speechless as Miguel slides her two envelopes, both containing checks with several thousand more dollars tacked on than normal. 

"Your payday early." Miguel says with a smile. "Make sure Noir gets the other one for me, will you?" 

"Oh doctor." Madge clutches the envelope to her chest with a sigh. "Bless you...no words just....just bless you so much. I'm so honored to work for you." 

Miguel smiles, giving her a squeeze on the shoulder. "Pleasure's all mine, Madge. Thank you for everything you do for my family and for taking care of my girl tonight. I appreciate your service and your loyalty." 

"Well, Doctor O'Hara you have this old lady's allegiance for life! Of course, of course! Please call me if you need anything. See you in the morning, Doctor!" Madge chimes as she walks out the door, jingling her keys.

Miguel watches her leave fondly then sighs and rolls up his sleeves as he approaches you on the couch, turning on the lamp. The dim, yellow light illuminating the soft burning mocha of his eyes as he looks lovingly upon your sleeping silhouette on his couch. He crosses over to you quietly, sitting down next to you, taking care not to shift the cushions too much under his weight and turning off the TV that was still running. 

You groan a little, shaking your head in your sleep and your eyes flickering open slowly at the feeling of a man's hand stroking your jaw, your eyes elated when you realize it's Miguel. 

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispers, giving you a smile. He leans down, positioning himself over you, inhaling as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your body flood with happiness as you nuzzle into his chest, intoxicating woodsy cologne wafting from his neck. 

"Missed you so so much..." You mumble, the cashmere of his sweater tickling your cheek, your tone rasped from sleep. 

"I missed you more, cariño..." He holds you tighter for another moment in silence before he pulls away a little bit, still keeping his face close to yours as he lets you lay back on the pillow, keeping his knuckles underneath your chin. 

"I'm sorry to wake you." He says kindly, eyes raking over you for signs of hurt. "I just need to make sure you're okay." 

You release a shaky breath, your body shivering at the memory. "I...I don't know. I mean, physically, I'm a lot better now...I just..."

Miguel holds your hands in his, occasionally letting his palms brush over your forearms with tender strokes. "It's okay. You don't need to figure out anything right now, cariño...." He gestures for you to come closer. 

"I've taken the liberty of speaking to the police and the dean of the university myself. I will make sure those roommates of yours never come near you ever again." 

You feel a chill down your spine. Even though you were angry and hurt, you felt nervous at the idea of them being punished. Surely now you would forever be blacklisted in their minds, a permanent subject of their torture from here on out, blaming you for their consequences despite them being a direct result of their actions. 

"Miguel, you don't need to do all that..." You say cautiously. "I mean, I really appreciate you having my back and all, it's just, I don't know how I'm going to survive the rest of the semester. If they didn't like me before they definitely aren't going to now..." You shudder at the thought. 

"Let me worry about that." Miguel says firmly, resting both of his hands on yours. "You won't need to worry about what happens next or seeing them again because I'm going to keep you here with me. You'll live here in the guest house until I know for certain that it's safe to send you back to the university." 

"Oh..." You shake your head slowly. "No....no Miguel, I couldn't do that to you. I don't want to be a burden...." 

"Stop."

Miguel silences you with a kiss, releasing a deep sigh, the chill from his bottled water brushing gently against your lips. 

"Eh....sorry...what I mean is, I already have arranged for everything you need to stay here. I would much rather know that you're safe with me than send you back there. And you are never a burden to me." 

Before you can say anything again, he pulls you back in for another kiss, making this one last a tad longer than the first, you feel yourself melt when his hand grabs your waist with the other one holding the back of your neck so you could be pressed a little tighter against him. 

Miguel feels a little fire burning in him, but he knows he needs to be patient, especially with everything you went through tonight. However you feel yourself giving into your desires, the feeling of his lips on yours leaving you with a hungry sensation, having him so close to you and the way he touched you too electric to stop. 

The next time your lips meet, you prod your tongue gently in the open space between his lips. Miguel groans softly, unable to turn you down and opens his mouth, permitting you to explore it with your tongue. His breath is fresh, the unique, succulent taste of his mouth paired with his cologne just steering you further down a road of temptation. 

Miguel is a little flustered, having underestimated that the intensity of the fire burning within you was actually the same, if not bigger than the one inside of him. He chuckles softly with his forehead against yours,

"Now..." he raises one of his hands, laying the back of his knuckles against your cheek, his thumb delicately swiping the area under your eyes. "We should probably get you in bed, yeah?" 

You exhale softly, "Okay." 

Miguel smiles, pressing another kiss to your lips and sweeping you up into his arms without warning. 

"Miguel?" You giggle at the gesture. Miguel smirks as he approaches the staircase, walking up it with you cradled against his chest. When you reach the top of the staircase, you notice the living room where you just were is visible on the other side. Miguel makes a left, walking to the end of the hallway, carefully setting you down before opening the door. 

You feel your breath get taken away as you look at the large king sized bed, a thin white canopy drapes across all four corners of the bedposts, making it look like a luxurious cloud. Across from the bed is a fancy modern fireplace behind a panel of glass with a shiny marble mantle piece and another large television mounted above it.

On the far end of the room are French doors with glass panels covered by cream colored curtains that lead to a balcony with a small bistro patio set with two chairs and a table, perfect for reading or a cup of tea that overlooks the garden and swimming pool. 

Miguel smiles at your reaction, watching you as you marvel at the beautiful room before taking you by the hand to show you the rest of it. 

"Here is your bathroom..." He opens a door that's to the left of the fireplace. Your mouth falls open yet again at the open space, white marbled floors with a counter to match, a vanity with an ornate mirror, a shower with cream colored tiles and a waterfall shower head, an ivory golden claw foot bathtub and a separate water closet for the toilet which came with a bidet. 

Miguel opens the drawers of the vanity and the bathroom sink, showing you where all the toiletries were: your favorite shampoo, hair conditioner, other hair care products you needed, as well as bars of soap that were both scented and non scented depending on your preference, moisturizer, makeup wipes, toothpaste, and a new fancy electric toothbrush that was charging next to the sink. 

"Madge and Noir will have the rest of your beauty products you wrote down by tomorrow morning, as well as all of your medications you need." He says with a smile. 

"And now back to the room..." He shuts off the bathroom light and guides you to the door to the right of the fireplace this time, leading to a walk in closet. 

There's a gorgeous diamond chandelier on the ceiling, the far end of the room has a ceiling to floor mirror, on either side are racks of clothes. Dresses, sweaters, blouses, skirts, pants, even work clothes for school or work and something for every occasion, all matching the descriptions and brands you listed in your contract. 

There's racks with several pairs of shoes on display nearly arranged ranging from fancy heels, to beachy sandals, casual street footwear, and boots. In the middle of the room is a cream colored ottoman sitting bench which is pushed up against one of the biggest jewelry cabinets you've ever seen. 

When you open it, there's several black velvet rows with little LED lights that highlight the pieces on display. There are four elegant Cartier watches, Alex and Ani bangles with all your favorite charms you pre-selected that fit your personality and aesthetic, more Pandora bracelets and necklaces like the one Miguel originally gifted you that you can swap out depending on your mood, Swarovski earrings and necklaces adorning the holders, and a variety of Dior rings in the styles you selected. 

You're damn near in tears from all of this attention, all of this generosity bestowed on you. Turning this night around from one of the worst to one of the best you've had in your entire life. Feeling like you must be in heaven, must be dreaming and not sure what you did to be so lucky. You turn around, jumping into Miguel's arms.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you...." you whisper, closing your eyes.  

Miguel's eyes widen in surprise at first, but feels his heart melt as he bends down, bringing his hands to the back of your thighs, warmth pooling in his belly when you wrap your legs around him like a koala as he carries you to the bed. He gently sets you down on it. You feel the mattress dip below you gently. You run one of your hands along it, the fibers massaging against your skin.

You can already tell this bed will probably pose a huge threat of making you late in the mornings, with how heavenly and soft it feels. Nothing like the stiff, cardboard, twin sized mattress in your dorms that had been used and recycled between God knows how many users.

Miguel smiles, leaning over you to hand you his housewarming gift neatly packaged in a gorgeous gift basket tied with a red bow. Silk pink pajamas monogrammed with your initials that matches the robe in your bathroom, with fuzzy white slippers, as well as chocolate, sparkling champagne, bottled water, mints, Burt's Bees Chapstick, lotion, and some healthy chips.

"Here..." He pulls out one more bottle from the gift basket of room spray, giving a small spritz to the bed.

"For your pillow." He grins.

"It's lavender and vanilla, a nighttime medley. I use the same kind for my daughter, Gabi, on her pillows... It's helped her stay calm and sleep much better at night. Let me know if it helps with your headache." He lovingly strokes your cheek, setting the spray on your bedside table.

"You can put anything you'd like in here." He opens the bedside drawers of the nightstand. "There's a Kindle and iPad for your personal use. They are yours to have. My mother wanted you to have her Kindle because she went and bought herself a new one for Christmas." He chuckles.

"But this one is still extremely nice. Feel free to download whatever books you like to read on it. I trust you not to go too crazy." He winks.

"There's also tissues, allergy medicine, some melatonin, vitamins, spare chargers if you need them, the remote to the TV is also in here, along with the one that controls the temperature, lights, and humidifier. I just ask that you be conservative with the temperature changes. Usually around 70-72 degrees is more than comfortable for this room."

He brings his hands to your thighs, his smile gradually melting, eyes going a little half lidded as he runs them slowly up and down.

"Anything...else I can do for you before I let you go to sleep, love....?"

At this point, you don't care about your headache. You just want him. Right now. After receiving this absolute princess treatment and pretending to ignore all of the lingering tension between you two, it felt more than right to spend a little more time with him tonight. The dim lights and the luxurious room and mansion in the middle of his countryside property was just pushing you closer and closer to him by the minute.

"You're not staying with me...?" You whisper, a faint tease to your voice.

Miguel gives you a shadow of a smirk, letting his hands run a little further up your thighs, coming to very gently grip over the curve of your ass.

"I'll be in the room across the hall..." He says gently. "But..." He leans his face closer to you, lightly pressing his forehead against yours. "I can stay with you, if you wish."

You exhale softly as you feel his hands start to knead the plump flesh. "Yes please..."

He smiles, his eyes closed with his forehead still pressed against yours. He softly lifts your chin with his fingers, bringing your face to look at him. The look he's giving you could pretty much make you fall in love with him instantly.

Soft, silky orbs of the most decadent chocolate brown lovingly staring back into yours, with the faintest hint of hunger, something seductive and fiery that he was holding back behind them. You were more than curious to find out.

His lips part and he leans in, softly leaving his breath in your mouth, his lips barely ghosting over yours,

"Dime exactamente todo lo que quieres... ahora." He purrs.

You moan softly, tangling your fingers in his hair, making him sharply inhale more oxygen to his lungs, your body language pushing him dangerously close to the edge.

"Miguel...."

"Tell me....exactly, everything you want me to do, right now, beautiful....." He repeats, his voice hovering above a whisper. "I won't break the rules unless I have your clear, absolute consent...." He runs both palms against the side of your neck.

"Hmmm...? Dime, cariño...." (Tell me dear)

You feel your face get hot, biting your lip as you look up into his beautiful face. "Stay with me tonight..."

"And...?" He whispers with a smile, tickling your cheek.

"Make love to me..."

Miguel feels his body practically light on fire. He knew damn well that's what he was hoping for but hearing you say it out loud just made his excitement triple by the minute.

"Yeah....?" He stops smiling, biting his lip as he gently and ever so softly squeezes your cheeks between his fingers.

"Want me to fuck you, pretty girl....?" A lustful switch activates in his brain. He clenches his teeth hungrily.

"Please..."

He leans in, pressing sweet kisses to your neck, you groan and let your head fall back, giving him more access to your throat and chest, leaving goosebumps in his wake. He nuzzles his face into you, full lips brushing the shell of your ear as his hands run up and down your shoulders and arms.

"Have you done this before, my love....?"

"Mmm..." Your face is warm again as you nod slowly at him.

"I-I have..."

Miguel smiles, leaning in to kiss you passionately, sliding his tongue into your mouth, his hand grasping your chin, holding you still so he can make it deep, a subtle demonstration of his claim over you.

"Have you ever been with a man like me?" He asks softly.

You exhale carefully, voice slightly quivering. "N-No...."

He hums at this, a little smugness in his tone. "Well...if you're still sure, baby.... I'd love to show you....what it's like...to be with me. I'll show you just how a pretty thing like you should be treated..."

Your body is on the verge of exploding. "....Yes.....?"

"Yes, lovely girl..."

He smirks as he gently rubs his nose against yours, pausing for a moment when he notices your jacket. It's not in line with the usual style of clothes you wear. His brow furrows curiously as he tugs at it with his fingers.

"Whose is this?" He asks in a low tone, a slight hint of sternness.

"Oh-um..." Your face gets hot. "T-the guy at the game. Made me wear it. I was freezing. I'm, I'm so sorry...I should've said no...."

Miguel feels a slight annoyance at this, but he keeps his voice low, keeping a handle on his emotions for your sake. "You know my rules cariño..."

You bite your lip, stressed that you've upset him and killed the mood completely. "I know, I know, I'm so sorry Miguel...."

Miguel hums, slowly starting to unzip the jacket. "I know you are, baby...." He pauses as he watches the zipper coast downwards, letting the anticipation build for a moment.

"S'alright...." He breathes slowly, brushing his lips against your ear.

"S'not your fault, my dear..."

Without warning he rips the jacket off of you. You squeak in alarm, he holds you tightly against him, his hands gripping your waist hard, fingers digging into your skin as he ravenously attacks your neck and bare shoulders with his lips, nipping at them with his teeth.

"From now on...the only clothes that I will rip off your body...are the ones I buy you. Not any other man's. Understand?"

He takes your cheeks between his fingers, roughly bringing your gaze up at his, the silk brown of his eyes now gleaming with fire.

"You're all mine..." He whispers.

You shudder and moan softly, when you feel him grip your clothed pussy, the attention to the ache you felt all night long for him finally being satisfied with the warm grip of his hand.

He seems to take notice of your neediness as well, smirking as he moves his hand softly against your sex, his voice reducing to a purr with satisfaction at your weakness.

"See....you enjoy this yeah, my dirty girl...?"

He works his palm into a steady caress, the heel of his hand hitting against your clit. You let out a little whine.

"Shit....so sensitive....so weak to my touch...." He licks his lips, eyes drinking in every little shudder your body makes, coming to rest on your breasts.

"Miguel..." You're fighting to keep your eyes open, the pleasure coursing in your veins making them heavier than usual.

"That feels soooo good...."

Miguel smirks even wider, leaning in and continuing his trail of kisses on your neck, pausing to suck on your skin.

"Yeah....? Mmm good..... You deserve to feel good, cariño. Let me make you feel good...."

He lays you back on the bed, his hands dance underneath your shirt, another moan leaving your lips as the warmth from his palms make contact with your skin.

"Can I take this off, angel?"

You nod numbly, lifting your body and arms as he removes your shirt. He removes his sweater as well, unbuttoning his dress shirt halfway before he gets distracted by the goddess in front of him.

Miguel groans at your bare upper half, leaning in to lick and suck his way down the middle of your chest in the valley between your breasts, affectionately motorboating his face in between them and flicking your nipples with his tongue, leaving the sensitive buds perky before he coasts down to your soft stomach.

"Mmmm..." You arch your back, biting your lip as you give in to your own burning desire, letting yourself caress your breasts with your free hand while he indulges.

He chuckles against your skin, admiring how you're taking charge of your own pleasure, his eyes looking up at you from where his cheek is laid against your stomach, leaving soft kisses.

"That's a beautiful sight..."

He rubs his cheek against your stomach, pressing another soft kiss into it. "It's nice watching you enjoy yourself, baby. You drive me insane...."

He gently slides his fingers underneath the waistline of your pants.

"Open your legs..." He whispers.

You breathe deeply, letting your hand run softly, slowly down your body, giving your breast another tender squeeze on the way down, easing your knees apart.

"Lift your hips..."

You obey, your breath shuddering as he pulls your pants off your body, followed by your panties.

"God..." He groans. " Such a good girl...your pretty pussy's already wet for me...."

You gasp quietly as his fingers trace the top of your sex until they gently circle around your clit, softly pushing against it, as though it were a switch, your back arches and your mouth falls open, Miguel groaning above you.

"S'alright, beautiful...let me get you ready for me..."

He starts to softly, softly rotate two thick fingers inside your pussy, already wet with want, greedily welcoming any penetration as your walls envelope them, the soothing pitch of his voice arousing you, encouraging you to stretch yourself wider.

Miguel is impossibly turned on right now, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt and release his large cock from his boxers, allowing his aching length to flop against his stomach, angry tip blooming with precum already.

"Mig-"

He interrupts you with a soft kiss, making out with you passionately as his fingers curl and scissor within you, soft whimpers you leave behind in his mouth as your tongues slide and massage against one another.

He pauses and removes his fingers, the feeling within you empty for a moment as you catch your breath, but not for long as his mouth surrounds your pussy, his arms locking around your upper thighs as his tongue starts to lap up and down.

You pant, gazing up at the ceiling then down at him as you struggle to prop yourself up a little, your pretty lips open in a mixture of shock and pleasure as you watch him greedily lick and eat your pussy to his heart's content.

He moans at the taste, letting his tongue circle in a repetitive motion up and down as he nuzzles his face a little deeper into your warm cunt, your wetness transferring onto his whole face and nose as the tip of it prods at your clit.

You shudder and moan loudly, eyes shut as all you begin to focus on is the overwhelming wave of pleasure as you grind on his face, the way you can practically feel every creamy drop leak out of you and into his mouth as you fall apart underneath him.

No man has ever made you feel this damn good before. Never made you feel so womanly, so worshipped before tonight.

You lose yourself to the sensation of his tongue curling and rolling inside you, massaging and lingering in the plush spots that make your toes curl and flickers of light erupt your vision, letting yourself be completely vulnerable in this moment, alone, with him.

He studies you carefully, mind imprinting which angle of his tongue causes you to shudder the most, which soft spot inside your pussy makes you whimper the most desperately, memorizing your body as if it's a Bible as he continues eating you out on top of the master bed.

"That's it, almost there for me..." He licks your arousal off his lips, pussydrunk before reassuming his position.

"Dios, baby...those stupid little college boys can't make you feel this good, can they.....?" He smirks as he continues to lather your pussy with his warm tongue.

"N-No....only you baby...."

The knot in your stomach snaps and you feel your body turn to mush as your love seeps out of you, the sweet, sweet peak of arousal overcoming and absolutely wrecking you, sending shockwaves of overwhelming pleasure all through your mind and senses, lying there out of breath as Miguel pants, his soft stomach and dark happy trail with slightest hints of grey peppered in covered in a thick gloss of his beautiful sweat, a dazzling, satisfied smile on his face, pecs shiny and proud as his chest heaves up and down in simmering heat.

He peels off the rest of his shirt and clothes, leaving himself naked before you, the warm glow of the room making him look so godly, so entrancing under the scarce light as he positions himself above you, gently nudging your legs apart with his knees.

He leans in close, kissing you, your lips breaking apart a little from a sharp gasp you let out as you feel his fat tip massaging between your folds, the fullest part of the curve dipping in slightly, an agonizing tease.

"Miguel..." You whine.

"Cariño...?" He answers innocently with a smirk, as though he's completely oblivious to how much he's torturing you with not filling you up with his cock all the way.

"I need you..."

"That so, baby....? I'm enjoying this though...."

"Please..."

"I love hearing you beg, baby. It's so sweet..."

"Please, please fuck me Miguel..."

"Mmmmm...."

You both moan in sweet unison as he slides inside you completely.

"There...." He pants, hooking your thigh over his hip, squeezing it as he grips the headboard with the other. You cry out loudly for him, running your hands all along his dense muscle. His pride, ego and lust swelling as you admire and feel his strength, letting yourself become so submissive and cockdrunk underneath him as he snaps his hips lewdly against yours.

"Fuck!!....so amazing....Miguel....need you so badly..."

He cradles your head delicately in his hands, slowing down his thrusts, dragging his clock slower and deep within you, letting you really feel every inch.

"I know baby, I know...M'right here, baby..." He groans loudly as his cock strokes against a particularly sensitive spot inside you.

".....bet no man's ever fucked you this good hmm...?" He smiles as he pants above you, toying with your bottom lip as he continues thrusting slowly.

"Bet I can make my pretty baby so needy for this cock after tonight...."

"Oh....." You groan, closing your eyes as your lips meet in a hot sweaty kiss.

"N-Nobody has fucked me like you do....n-never felt so good in my life..."

"Oh...tell me more, you sweet thing..." He slowly tilts his head, caging you below him as he continues to slowly fuck you, the space between you more intimate.

"I wanna feel all of you....all the time..." You feel your eyes water, the vulnerability of the moment pushing you to confess your deepest feelings, the chemicals and hormones between you to driving you to spill the innermost contents of your heart.

"I...I don't deserve you. I feel so lucky.....I don't understand what you see when you look at me. I'm so addicted to you....your body, your voice, your laugh, everything...."

Miguel's eyes soften, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"Oh cariño...but you do deserve me."

He leans in, pressing soft kisses, every word he speaks carries intention which swiftly translates into more passion in his hips as he begins to fuck you faster and faster.

"You enthrall me....you entice me....drive me crazy just thinking about you ever since the first day you showed up in my office..."

He buries his face in your neck, holding onto your hips.

"Know what I had to do after you left cariño....? Had to fuck my fist and think about you because you drove me so damn crazy..."

You pant, your eyebrows knitting when you feel another knot twisting itself in your stomach, preparing to snap.

Miguel groans, gently pressing his hand against the small bulge in your stomach, doubling your pleasure as he fucks you, edging himself closer to his own blissful end.

"You consume me....you're perfect.....you're mine, all mine. Sweet, sweet girl...."

You grab his face, kissing him passionately, he moans eagerly into the kiss, your sweaty bodies completely engulfed in the other.

"M'close...." He murmurs. "You are too, aren't you beautiful....?"

He interlocks your fingers together as he fucks you harder than before. Your back arches, legs shaking, struggling to keep your voice down, fighting to lock down your concentration on that one area that he keeps hitting so perfectly, pushing you dangerously close to the edge, dead set on falling off of it.

The heat in your core dials higher and higher, to the point you're practically screaming. You continue to hopelessly moan and pant, letting him hear your sweet chorus of pleasure as he continues plunging his cock in and out of your cunt.

Soon, a sea of arousal leaks out of you both, painting your lower stomach in his salty white ropes, his mouth open in shock as he gently coaxes any remaining cum from his cock, tenderly kissing you for several long moments, his body frozen above yours.

The blinding emotions of such an intimate experience nearly causing those three little words to slip through, practically screaming to be said, but he holds back for now, instead a warm look of adoration all across his face as he kisses you some more, a soft hum of satisfaction you purr quietly into his mouth as you return his kiss.

After a relaxing wash underneath the heavenly soft waterfall showerhead in your master bathroom and him lovingly massaging cleansing soap all over every sensitive inch of your body, you were tucked in his arms in your clean pajamas as he dimmed the lights with his remote, pressing one last loving kiss against your temple.

"M'right here, cariño....get some sleep...."

The hold that tiredness has on him is so strong to the point that he barely hears the quieted words you mutter in response before he's rendered unresponsive by the spell of sleep.

"I'm in love with you..."

Before you're gone as well, your hearts syncing in quieting rhythm alongside one another, the faint sound of crickets chirping outside your window in the peaceful countryside.

----

Tags 🖤🫶🏽:

@scaleniusrm @laysmt @to-the-endoftheline

@criessoft @bammzyboomy @thatone-writer @oharasfilipinawife @lauraolar14 @scaryplanetdestroyer @amberbalcom14

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@safixiovi @daddysfavoritesexkitten @tojishugetiddies @slushycoookie @1-800-choke-that-ho @peachey-pie

@leonsbimbogf @cicithemess @sassypossumm

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[leaawrites]

Silence and Peace

Percy Jackson x fem!reader

Summary: Y/n doesn't like Percy very much, until one quiet night changes everything.

Warnings: use of Y/n, female reader, kinda suggestive, no specific cabin,

Wordcount: 1.8k

I'm back! If you have any requests or whatever, send them in! Though I might need a while to finish stuff right now :(

Btw, thinking of making a part 2 of this? What do you think?

Masterlist

In the quiet hours of Camp Half Blood, when all campers were asleep and nobody could disturb her peace, Y/n sat on the beach. Watching the waves crash against the shore longingly like they were her second home. She watched the ocean come and go. She watched the sand cover her feet and making her sink deeper every time a wave came to her. For her, that was freedom. Long hours of silence. A peace so immaculate nobody could blame her for it. Nobody could make her drown in agony in those moments.

Not even Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon. The boy who watched her from afar one night and couldn’t look away ever since. He watched her helping other campers with a mesmerizing look in his eyes. One that screamed at everyone walking past, “that is gonna be my girl.”

And if she loved the ocean so much, she would love him the same, right? Wrong. She wasn’t his girl. She never even though about being his girl. He was always just Percy Jackson. The boy who bullied her for being older but still smaller than him. It wasn’t even that much of time between them. Seven months. Seven months was enough for him to make fun of her. Because Percy had no idea how to get a girls attention otherwise.

So that was his plan. Make her hate him if that was the only way for him to talk to her. Stupid boy.

Percy was stupid; you could ask about a dozen people and they would agree. He wasn’t dumb, but stupid. That kind of stupid that would get defeated by Annabeth after being distracted by a girl walking by. That kind of stupid that would stumble over his own feet when she approached him to complete her duties at camp. That kind of stupid that walked over to her one night and sat down next to her with nothing but static silence and the rapid sound of his heartbeat in his head. He was stupid in love.

“Why do you always watch the ocean but never go in?” He asked, scaring the girl and making her look at him wide eyed.

“I-” she began talking before shutting up. Every time she saw him, she prepared herself to get a snarky remark out of his mouth instead of a civil conversation. Though now he talked to her like a normal person. He talked to her like they were friends. “What are you doing here?”

Percy chuckled, averting his eyes from the moon towards her. Eyes sparkling, a kind of tiredness filling his face. “I don’t think you should be the one asking.”

It wasn’t meant mean. It wasn’t meant harmful in any way. However Y/n received enough comments with the same tone to roll her eyes and look away from him in annoyance. In her head, he wasn’t there to keep her company or even - dare I say - comfort. He was only there to annoy and tease her.

“Look, Percy, I was really enjoying my peace before you came, so maybe, would you be so kind, and leave me alone. Just this once. In the morning you can say whatever you wanna say to me, just not tonight,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest and letting her head rest on them, her voice tired and stifled.

Percy looked at the girl like she was going insane. Like somehow she murdered three people and wasn’t afraid for him to be the next. Which, Percy assumed, probably was one thought in her head at the moment. Even when he could never imagine her doing harm to anyone or anything. She was the smart, kind, classy girl in camp. The sweet, blooming field of flowers that everyone adored. Him included. He adored her.

“You know, when I’m seeking peace at night, I also visit the ocean,” he told her, making her look up at him. She was surprised he was still sat next to her, talking in tranquility. It felt foreign, yet normal in a fascinating sense to her. A person can be so different at night. Or was it only because he was at peace now? “Lately it felt like I visited a girl as well.”

It took her a moment, but then she understood what he meant. This wasn’t the first time he came here. It was, however, the first time he made himself known, which surprised her. When you think of Percy Jackson the first adjectives would be sarcastic, extroverted and brave not shy, calm and soft. At least not to her.

“You were watching me?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and, what Percy assumed to be disgust, but actually it was surprise. Y/n was surprised that he seemed interested in her.

“I also like to swim, but that wasn’t possible since you occupied the ocean’s attention for most of the time,” he told her, sighing in acted sadness.

Y/n laughed at his terrible performance, making him smile in return. “You should’ve just walked past. I would’ve been gone in a second if I knew it was you.”

Something in that sentence made Percy’s heart drop. Maybe it was the face that she would’ve been gone. Or maybe it was because she would’ve been gone because it was him. Anyway, something about it made him uncomfortable in his own skin.

“You also could’ve stayed,” he told her, not looking at her, missing the soft smile and tender look dancing in her eyes. “Bet you wouldn’t have minded seeing me without a shirt.” There it was. The comment she waited for, combined with the smirk she knew all too well. Percy was terrible at flirting and she wouldn’t have said what she eventually did if they hadn’t been all alone at this hour.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have.”

Percy’s mouth stood open with surprise, while she shrugged nonchalant and bit her lower lip to suppress a laugh that wanted to escape her so badly. The boy wasn’t used to her actually jump on the joke and tease him back, though he couldn’t deny that he somehow liked it.

After a moment of thinking, he took his chance. Pulling his shirt over his head and making his way towards the water, he turned to her with a smirk. “Well, if that’s the case.”

Y/n wanted to watch the beach, she came specifically to this place to do just that. Watch the waves and the shore and the sky and the moon. Though now her eyes were focusing on something else. She watched Percy dip in the water, breaking the surface, with such gentleness, she wanted him to touch her just the same. She watched him swim for a bit. Watched him look at her and act like he was being attacked to get a laugh out of her. His head sticking out of the water to watch her reaction. When he saw her enjoying his company for once, he smiled back. It was nice knowing to be the reason for one’s happiness. Especially someone you wanted to make happy every day.

As he came back, Y/n tried to keep her focus on the moon, only betraying her quest when Percy sat down next to her again. Shirt still laying next to him.

Percy turned his head, only in time to catch her eyes traveling over his now shivering body. The night air hitting his skin with discomfort.

“You should put your shirt back on or you’re gonna get sick,” she said, looking at him. Her eyes catching a water drop sliding down his face and following it. He ignored her comment but still put his shirt back on.

“When you said that you would’ve gone if I was to just walk past and into the water, was that only because of me or would you have gone if any other person would’ve been in my position?” He asked her, making her look away from him again. She didn’t answer though Percy knew the answer now. “You don’t like me very much.”

“It’s hard to like you, when you constantly try to embarrass me,” she said, finally. Finally she didn’t just walk past him, ignoring his comments like they weren’t meant for her. Though it was obvious to everyone.

“I’m not trying to embarrass you,” Percy admitted. Grover was right, he thought.

After he finally told someone about his crush on the girl, Grover was quick to educate him that that wasn’t the way to get a girlfriend. “I was just trying to get your attention,” he admitted quietly.

Y/n laughed at that, her hand over her mouth. “Why would you want my attention?” She asked him.

“What?” Percy didn’t understand how that seemed so impossible to the girl next to him.

“Percy, be serious. You couldn’t possibly want my attention so bad. I mean, why would you? You have the attention of all the girls, why mine?”

Percy had never been so mad at himself and at her too. He wanted to tell her that he was just joking. He wanted to tell her that he had no idea why he wanted her. But the truth was he knew. He laid awake enough nights asking himself the same question. Then again, he was mad at her for thinking that. He was mad again at her that she couldn’t see all what he saw in her in herself.

“I like you, okay? I really do. I like the way you talk kindly to everyone and I like your smile and your cleverness. I like that you’re always there for everyone and that you listen to me even though I’ve been horrible to you,” he told her it all. Everything that he thought about he told her. “I like your bubbly personality and how you can’t seem to stand normal after staying up for a moment. I like how messy you are and yet put together. I like your face and your eyes and you. I like you for how you are.”

“Well, Jackson, your strategy isn’t really good. I mean, teasing a girl to get her attention usually just works in books,” she told him.

Percy couldn’t believe it. He just poured her a cup of his heart and she decides to dump it into the ocean.

“But this is nice,” she eventually added. “I like this side of you. The quite and vulnerable one. The one who’s flirty and sarcastic in a lovable way. The one who fakes his death to make me laugh.”

“What does that mean now?” Maybe she didn’t dump it all in the ocean. Only a part of it. The part she didn’t like.

“It means that if you show me more of that side, I could eventually start liking you too. Would that be alright?” She asked hoping for a yes and a agreement from him.

She got more though. She got a relieved ‘yes’, a promise and a smiling and blushing boy.

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #pjo imagine #pjo fandom #pjo series #pjo

[incognit0slut]

Behind Closed Doors 2

Part one

You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.

Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words

A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!

He looked good in pink.

That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.

“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”

“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”

Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.

Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you. 

Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.

A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.

"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.

“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”

“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away. 

“Ugh, do not wink at me.”

His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.

To talk to him or not talk to him?

You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.

Oh, fuck it—you decided to approach him.

Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.

"Hi.”

"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"

“Can I talk to you for a moment?”

"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.

“In private?”

There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.

“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.

Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”

You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.

Then everything snapped.

You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.

“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”

“My… hair?”

You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”

"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”

But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."

You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”

“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”

His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.

“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”

Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”

But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.

You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.

“Tell me more, Spence.”

He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”

But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was. 

But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.

“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”

“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."

He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.

After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.

“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”

His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”

“And?”

“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.

There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”

His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”

“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”

“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”

You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”

"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”

“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”

His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.

“Please?”

You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”

“I can probably finish in five.”

You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.

He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading? 

“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines. 

“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.

“You’re so pretty.”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”

You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm. 

The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.

“Do you mind if I spit on it?”

He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”

“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."

"I'll make an exception for this."

You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.

His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…” 

Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”

He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze. 

“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”

His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”

His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.

“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”

His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.

“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”

You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"

“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”

You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.

Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”

He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.

You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught. 

But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.

His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”

A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.

As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”

He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.

“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”

“What do you mean?” 

He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.” 

You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”

“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”

You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”

“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”

You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”

He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”

He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”

You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”

When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.

“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”

His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”

"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."

He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”

“See? It’s all about perspective.”

His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.

“Will you come with me?” 

Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.

“You want me to come with you to the museum?”

"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"

It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.

And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.

On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.

“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”

You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”

He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”

His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”

You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.

With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.

#behind closed doors #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencerreid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #Fanfiction #gifwriting

[pickingupmymercedes]

She's here and she's just like you - Lewis Hamilton

From the series: She's here and she's ours , She's here and she's not only ours.

Lots of fluff.

pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Some dad!Lewis fix. Because I think we could all use it.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

______________________________________________________________

The relentless growl of the engines echoed through the thinly insulated motorhome walls, a constant tremor that vibrated through the room and into your very bones. Even with the rhythmic whoosh of the white noise machine, sleep seemed a distant dream.

You glanced at your husband, a small, peaceful oasis amidst the chaos, with your daughter sleeping soundly in his chest, her tiny fingers clutching the soft fabric of his shirt. And as much as he tried to hold perfectly still, you could see the contrast to the storm brewing within Lewis, a frustrated frown etched onto his face.

The first day of practice for the Silverstone Grand Prix was over, and yet, the biggest challenge hadn't been mastering the legendary circuit. It had been the heart-wrenching scene that unfolded just before Lewis left for the track.

He'd approached y/d/n, his usual goofy grin replaced with a nervous smile. Clad in his fireproof suit, the helmet tucked under his arm, he knelt beside her in his driver’s room. "Hey there, champ," he said, his voice a touch too high-pitched, betraying his anxiety.

The little girl, in the midst of a few toys, looked up with wide, curious eyes. Lewis extended a gloved hand towards her, but instead of reaching for it, her face crumpled, and a wail erupted from her tiny body.

"No, Daddy! No go!" she cried, scrambling backwards as far as she could go.

Your heart ached for both of them. Lewis, his smile faltering, attempted a reassuring laugh. "It's okay, sweetheart. Daddy's just going to work, then I'll be back to see you soon." But the wails only intensified.

You rushed to her side, scooping her up and showering her face with comforting kisses. Lewis remained rooted to the spot, a helpless look on his face.

Finally, with a defeated sigh, he placed the helmet down and retreated towards the door "I'll see you later, sweetheart," he mumbled, his voice thick with disappointment. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving an unsettling silence.

Y/d/n continued to whimper for a few minutes, nuzzling into your chest as you rocked her gently, and you couldn't help the sense of helplessness that washed over you.

Lewis had built this dream in his head for years – his daughter in the paddock, his lucky charm by his side, cheering him on.

The reality, however, was a chorus of tears and protests whenever he approached her in his race gear.

As Lewis’ tiny copy finally drifted back to sleep you followed him as he put her on her crib, reaching out and touching Lewis's face as he stood up "Maybe she's just like you, and needs her time before going for it" you put gently, a small smile playing on your lips. He looked at you, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. "Maybe I was a bit too eager”

"You’re excited, that’s all" you comforted him, nudging him softly. A shared memory surfaced, a time capsule from a very different stage in your journey as parents.

The initial thrill of the pregnancy announcement had settled into a comfortable routine. Excitement simmered beneath the surface, punctuated by doctor appointments and the steady growth of your belly. One evening, as you sat curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, a flicker of sadness crossed Lewis's face as he knelt beside you, his hand resting gently on your now-obvious bump.

"So, no kicks yet?" he asked, his voice laced with a barely concealed longing. You smiled sadly, shaking your head. "Just the usual fluttering" He forced a smile, but the disappointment in his eyes tugged at your heart.

"It'll come soon," you reassured him, taking his hand and placing it firmly on your stomach. "Just you wait." Days turned into weeks, and the feeling of anticipation that had initially fueled Lewis's excitement began to wane. He'd watch you lovingly rub your belly, a question lingering in his eyes. You knew what he was thinking – a silent plea to feel a part of this incredible journey unfolding within you.

One afternoon, you were curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, when a strong flutter, very perceptible and even visible, danced across your abdomen. You gasped, eyes widening in surprise. Lewis, oblivious, was engrossed in a racing documentary on his phone. You nudged him, a breathless whisper escaping your lips. "Lewis, feel this!"

He looked up, a flicker of hope lighting his face as he turned towards you. Hesitantly, he placed his hand where you indicated. And then, another flutter, stronger this time, an unmistakable sensation against his palm. His face lit up as if a light had been switched on. A mix of wonder and pure joy washed over him. He leaned his head against your stomach, a wide grin splitting his face.

"There she is!" he whispered; his voice thick with emotion. In that moment, the invisible barrier that had separated him from his unborn child dissolved. He was no longer just a spectator, but an active participant in this incredible miracle, his tiny miracle.

From that day on, Lewis constant presence was also coupled with hours talking to the belly, singing silly songs, and showering it with gentle kisses. The frustration that had shadowed his eyes was replaced by an awestruck wonder. You watched the transformation with a heart overflowing with love as you could feel their bond blossoming even before her arrival.

The memory brought a lump to your throat. Lewis's initial struggle with feeling left out mirrored your own anxieties about being a good mother. You reached out and squeezed his hand, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. He met your gaze, a flicker of understanding passing between you. A silent promise – to include y/d/n, and create a space where she felt safe and loved, no matter how fast the world around them moved.

The next morning, the paddock buzzed with its usual frenetic pre-race energy. Mechanics scurried around the cars, engineers huddled over laptops, and the air thrummed with anticipation. But amidst the controlled chaos, a new dynamic unfolded.

The atmosphere in the Ferrari garage was a far cry from the usual pre-race tension. Lewis, clad in his race suit but with his helmet still off, knelt beside a makeshift chair fashioned from a mechanic's stool and a pile of soft cushions. There, sat the little girl, her curls framing wide, curious eyes as she clutched a miniature Guido toy car in her chubby hand.

"Alright, champ" Lewis began, his voice losing its usual racing-day edge and taking on a gentle, singsong quality. "This" he said, pointing to the steering wheel in front of him "is like the captain's wheel on a pirate ship! It helps Daddy steer the car really fast." Y/d/n giggled, tilting her head in thought as she compared her miniature car to the real one.

A young mechanic, usually focused on meticulously checking tire pressure, couldn't help but be drawn to the scene. He knelt down beside them, his face breaking into a wide smile. "Ciao, bella!" he said, offering her a small, brightly colored wrench. Y/d/n, momentarily captivated by the shiny object, reached out to take it, her tiny fingers wrapping clumsily around the handle.

"See, sweetheart?" Lewis explained, "This wrench is Luca's special tool, just like my steering wheel is mine. He uses it to make sure the car is all good and ready to go!" Intrigued, she held the wrench up close, inspecting it with a furrowed brow. The mechanic chuckled, gently tapping the wrench against her toy's tire as the girl’s eyes widened in delight.

One by one, other mechanics started to approach, their initial surprise at the unexpected visitor replaced by amusement and a touch of protective warmth. Another mechanic, usually with a gruff exterior, shyly offered the toddler a bright yellow Ferrari pin. "For your car, Principessa" he mumbled, his voice surprisingly gentle. She squealed with joy, carefully placing the pin on the back of her Guido, mimicking the pit crew on television.

And Lewis, his initial frustration from the little girl's first reaction, was completely forgotten, as he continued his explanation. He pointed to various buttons and switches on the steering wheel, describing their functions with exaggerated sound effects and silly voices. Y/d/n, completely captivated, bounced on her feet, occasionally reaching out to touch the buttons within her reach, eliciting playful warnings from Lewis.

The race flew by in a blur as you tried to contain a very excited toddler perched on her chair in the Ferrari garage. Her eyes, wide with wonder, darted between the mechanics and engineers, as if she could actually understand what was happening before her. Every pit stop, every tool change elicited a flurry of questions and excited babbling.

The final lap brought a collective roar of triumph from everyone, including the bouncing of curls on your daughter's head as she threw her little arms up and cheered with everyone else.

The sweetest victory though wasn't on the track. It was the sight that greeted Lewis in a secure corner of the garage as he made his way back from the podium. Away from the throngs of fans and potential collisions with bustling mechanics, held aloft by Fred Vasseur, was Y/d/n. Her face crinkled in a joyous smile, a tiny hand waving excitedly as the other held her Guido, now sporting the bright yellow Ferrari pin.

He pushed his way through the small group surrounding them, his heart overflowing. As he scooped her into his arms, her tiny body radiating pure joy, you could see his sight of relief. He may not have been able to feel all her kicks in the womb, but he wouldn't miss a single giggle, squeal, or smile from here on out.

"Hey there, champ" he whispered, nuzzling his nose against her cheek. The little girl, still buzzing from the excitement of the race, babbled excitedly, pointing at his podium trophy with a gummy grin. Lewis chuckled, his eyes glistening in the light "That's right, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "We did it together. You, me, momma, Guido and everyone else here. We’re a team."

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora

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#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

[alastorss]

we've seen Alastor with deaf reader. but what about Alastor and blind reader?

how confusing it would be for them meeting Alastor for the first time with the radio filter overlaying his voice

and how confusing it would be for our deer man to find out he grew soft spot for reader? bc they find his voice very soothing to listen? since their hearing senses are hightened due to the blindness

so in one of their shared peaceful moments he asks reader if they want to see him. and to answer their startled expression he just brings their hands to lay on his face.. for them to "read" his appearence..

sorry if there are mistakes, Im not eng. love your writing sm, thanks for quality food you bring us, fluff-starved people!

💕

a/n: hiii hun!! i'm so so sorry i took so long to respond to this, but i really wanted to write something for this because aaaaahhhhh that's such a good idea omg 😭❤️ i hope you like it!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor once believed himself to be the demon of all demons.

He was everything a Sinner wanted to be and everything a Sinner feared in one soul—a package wrapped up pretty with a bowtie. He loved it. Thrived on it.

There was something so delicious about terror.

He played into his horrifying image. Purposefully made his presence known; broadcasted screams for all to hear. Power and fame only made him greedier for souls.

Being the center of attention came naturally for him. As natural as breathing, friends would jest. He attracted eyes wherever he went. Some admiring. Some not.

So it was quite a shock when you bumped right into him on the street and didn't immediately comb him over with your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you quickly stammered out, fiddling with your own sleeves.

Finally, you looked at him, but he could tell you were just looking for the sake of looking. Absently, you stared at him as you waited for a response.

Perhaps you expected him to chew you out. To lay a hand on you or to drag you into the alley so he could kick you until you bled. He could see it in your expression.

His heart uncharacteristically ached.

Instead, he steadied you by the shoulders and fixed a stray lock of hair out of your face.

"Carry on, my dear," he mused.

He was surprised with how pleased he was when you smiled at him. Big and wide—charming, really. He was hooked.

Alastor became a frequent in the area, always keeping his eyes peeled for you so he could take your arm into his and ferry you around. You insisted that you were fine, that you didn't need help, but he denied that those were his intentions. He simply wanted your company.

(And to scare off any other demons who had hit you or spat at you before.)

Eventually, you grew fond of him, too.

You could hear him so clearly—the trail of death and despair he left behind was loud, after all. Screaming souls followed his every move. For some reason, it comforted you.

He never tried playing nasty pranks on you. Never tried sneaking up behind you just to scare you, or hit you just because he could.

Alastor did not feel like a demon anymore.

Sinister and cruel, he thought the words didn't suit him when you were walking hand-in-hand.

For as many lives as he took, he had a soft spot for you.

His very presence brought you ease. You knew no one dared to approach a weak Sinner like you when you had him dangling off your arm. He found ways to fill the silence when you weren't chatting, just assuring you he was there.

"You're too kind to me," you once said to him. "You're not an angel trying to trick me, are you?"

"I am!" He chuckled, feeding into your little joke.

The way you laughed made his heart squeeze in the same way it had when he first met you. For a moment he felt nothing but guilt burn in his stomach.

He was the demon of all demons, but for some reason, he couldn't stand you thinking he was a demon at all.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Ever since convincing you to come to the hotel with him, you've not left his side once.

Not that he was complaining about it.

Surrounded with new people and often jolting out of your own skin whenever they began impromptu musical numbers, Alastor could tell you were entirely out of your element.

You were slowly but surely beginning to open up to your new home and the compatriots that came with it. However, you were always the most relaxed with the Radio Demon's soothing presence. He found himself cherishing the moments that you spent alone.

Conversation was not needed to tell each other how you felt. He appreciated that the most.

It's why he is slightly confused when you open your mouth as if you want to say something before snapping it shut with a loud huff. Again and again, you keep it up, sighing and groaning quietly to yourself.

Finally, Alastor has had enough. "Is something the matter, dear?" He asks, peering up from his newspaper to eye you on the other end of the couch.

"N-No!" You squeak, fumbling around with your hands like a cartoon character. "I just..."

He waits for you to continue, only to be met with deafening silence. Sighing to himself, he sets down his paper and scoots over to your side.

"Go on," he gently urges.

"I don't want to be a bother," you say quietly after a pause of hesitation.

He only stares at you, flabbergasted by the way you start to pull away from him. Stopping you by giving your shoulder a squeeze, he swallows harshly.

Your heart is racing so loud that he can hear it roaring in his own sensitive ears.

"You are never a bother," he quickly assures. "Come now, look at me."

Your brows furrow, unsure of what he wants you to do. You slowly turn your head to him with a confused scrunch of the nose. In all the time that you had known each other, he had never asked you to do something so pointless.

"Look at me," he pushes, hands sliding down your arms to take yours. He tugs you closer and brings your hands up to his face, allowing you to cup his cheeks.

Careful not to nick your skin with his teeth, his smile softens. Your hands roam his face tenderly, subtly squeezing at the fat of his cheeks. With your fingers tracing every part of him, from the bridge of his nose to his brows to the infinite curve of his smile, you relax.

"I'm a monster."

He had always tried to convince you that he wasn't terrible. That he was worthy of having your hands cupping his cheeks. But you could feel it—his smile. His antlers.

He's never felt vulnerable before. For some reason, it feels good to open up to you.

"You're just as pretty as I always imagined," you tell him with a shake of your head. Alastor flushes at your words.

No dishonesty. No fear. Your heart has stopped pounding in your ribcage.

That's right. He was kind to you, even though he was a beast. The demon had always thought that what he wanted most was to be feared, but he was wrong. You knew his heart before his form.

He shifts so he can kiss your fingertips.

"Well? What would you like to say?"

You suddenly freeze up, lips pressed into a thin line. Flustered, you sputter. "Nevermind, please just forget about that!"

"Oh? Keeping secrets from me isn't very nice, darling~" he muses. You groan, pulling your hands back to your own face to hide it.

Alastor only laughs, static crackling in his voice as he does. He leans forward, gently prying your wrists to reveal your face again so he can press his lips to your forehead.

He knows. The way you melt into his arms is enough. No conversation needed.

~

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#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor fic #alastor fanfic #alastor fluff #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #alastor headcanons

[lowkeyren]

heartfelt embrace!

in which — aventurine gets jealous when another man offers you a drink and gets too comfy with you.

pairing — aventurine x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆  — wc: 1.1k, unestablished relationship (but u guys pretend to be a couple), it gets kinda sappy at the end but its implied that ur feelings are mutual!! anyway, likes n reblogs r appreciated <3

the bar is like a social haven where strangers meet and share their stories without the need of holding back or the worry of judgement —which is also the perfect place to collect information for the ipc. 

a vibrant mixture of lights falls from the ceiling, smooth jazzy music fills the air, and aventurine's hand is wrapped tight around your waist. this is strictly professional you think, both of you are undercover as a loving couple where any and all intimacy is a facade to blend in with the people around. despite that, you can't help but feel a bit giddy and flustered whenever aventurine refers to you as "my love". though he has a knack for slipping those endearments into your conversations with such ease that it almost feels like second nature, you can still sense the warmth rising on your neck.

but duty called, both of you decided to split up at one point to be more efficient. the clinking of glasses, and the hum of activity at the bar counter draws you over to it. scanning the room, you spot your target and pretend to mull over the various cocktails in the menu in order to observe him more closely without raising suspicion. although what you didn’t expect is for him to notice you right away and approach you, offering you a drink with a lopsided smile. caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, you weren’t actually planning to drink tonight, you were only pretending after all; but declining his offer might arouse suspicion, plus he is a crucial part to your plan, and any chance to gather intel directly from him was not to be squandered. 

“ —and it’s my treat, a darling like you shouldn’t be alone, not to mention pay for your drinks. so c’mon let loose a bit won’t ya? your boyfriend doesn't have to know..” he leaned forward, invading your personal space, and you could smell the stench of alcohol from his breath. you stepped back in response, glancing furtively behind him in search of aventurine, just as you spot him, the man unexpectedly grabs your waist, drawing your attention back.

“so? what’d ya say darling..? the newest collection of soulglad mixed—”

before the man could finish his sentence, aventurine smoothly intervened, pushing the man’s hand off and wrapping his own around your waist and placing his chin on your shoulder. you could feel the hairs on your neck standing up from the close proximity of the both of you. “relax sweetheart, let me handle this.” he whispered in your ear while maintaining eye contact with the man. 

aventurine stepped between you and the man, with a deceitful smile, aventurine addressed him, his tone laced with subtle hostility. and despite his best efforts to maintain his composure, you could sense the turmoil brewing within him. alas, after countless backs and forths, and a few witty remarks made by aventurine solely for the purpose of pissing the other party off. the man finally left the scene while rolling his eyes, muttering not-so-subtle curses under his breath. 

you heaved a sigh of relief as he left the scene— but as you came back to your senses you realised you basically just lost your finest lead… 

"thank you, but... he was our best lead," you murmured, looking down at the floor, the weight of your predicament settling heavily upon your shoulders. aventurine cupped your cheeks with a tender yet firm touch, his gloved fingers are cool against your skin. “i know. but sometimes you have to play the hand you're dealt, even if it means taking risks.”

as you met his gaze, a flicker of yearning danced in his eyes. in that moment, the air between you was filled with tension, sending a shiver down your spine.

“and hey, that scum was being way too close to you anyway.” his tone impenitent and laced with a tingle of jealousy. even outside missions, his playful smiles and occasional touches that were meant to be purely friendly began to blur the lines between platonic and romantic; his (over)protectiveness of you stirred a mixture of emotions within. it was in these fleeting moments, when his eyes met yours with a glint of mischief, that you couldn't help but wonder if there was more to your friendship that he let on.

“i shouldn’t have even let him touch you. i guess you’re just too hard to resist huh, should’ve known your beauty extends beyond my sight. that makes my job quite difficult, but don't worry love, i’ll just have to stick by your side from now on.” you can't deny the flutter of your heart whenever aventurine says stuff like that, does he actually mean it? or was he just messing with you again.. well in this case, acting. 

“hah… don’t say things like that, you’re sounding too charming for your own good, it's like you’ve got a crush on me or something.” 

“did i get your hopes up?” (what if i do?)

beneath the surface, beneath the laughter and the teasing, there lingered a sliver of hope, “no, of course not! not at all...” but you couldn't give in to that whisper of possibility, incase you were wrong and single-handedly ruin your friendship with aventurine.

he chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief. "oh, is that so? well, i'll have to try harder then. wouldn't want you falling for other guys now, would i?" as aventurine's laughter echoed in the air, a pang of longing tugged at your heartstrings, his words stirred something deep within you, igniting a spark of hope that refused to be extinguished.

with a forced smile, you unwillingly tore yourself away from the moment. "alright, that's enough," your voice betrays a hint of reluctance. "let's head back now, i'll see you tomorrow.” just as you turn your back around, 

“wait,” aventurine held your hand between his, “let me take you home at least?” a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips, faced with such a sight you couldn't do anything but accept his offer graciously. 

on the way back, silence fills the air, it was no doubt that the both of you could feel the tension crackling as unspoken feelings were made obvious by the way he still holds your hand tightly, lacing his fingers with yours, even after leaving the bar; where you were free from your roles. you grasp his hand that held yours in response, a silent confession. 

perhaps romantic feelings are not to be uttered when one is not ready, as love has a way of finding its way into the darkest corners of your hearts even when you least expect it. but nonetheless, maybe one day aventurine will open his heart to you, and you’ll find the courage to speak your truth. until then, you’ll find comfort in the warmth of his embrace.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ 

hi ren here! yes this is reposted from my old acc lol, i will probably delete that one soon after i move everything here xx other accs reposting my work are not me. that's all, have a good one! masterlist

#✧renwrites! #hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fanfic #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #aventurine hsr #aventurine #hsr imagines #aventurine x you #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine fanfic

[ynsvnte]

Lady Love ! — Sim Jaeyun

Genre: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, drabble, royal au, fluff?

wc: 985

warnings: petnames (sweetheart), one kiss

pairing: prince!jake x princess!reader

Synopsis: you hated the fact you were being sent off to get married. You don’t even know your future husband. You thought badly of him..only to find out the quite opposite

Masterlist

You sighed, staring out the window of the carriage.. you didn’t want to meet your so called future husband. It’s stupid on how your parents chose your spouse for you.. and their reasoning being “Oh! We must keep this tradition alive!” Well you don’t like this tradition. Seriously, how does your own mother think that when she got with your father the same way? You look over to see a castle from a distance. The carriage slowly came to a stop. You wanted to just disappear. You don’t know whether you are nervous or annoyed, probably maybe even both. You try to shake off the feeling. You hear the door opening, facing the direction.. your bodyguard comes in sight announcing..

“We have arrived Princess..Yn..” He says moving to the side to let you get through while holding his hand out. You take his hand carefully stepping out of your carriage. You admire the Greek styled castle.. that’s until you hear your mother’s voice.

“Yn! You’ve arrived my sweetheart..I thought you got lost on your way here!” She said with worry.. you shake your head.. slightly embarrassed.

“No..sorry mother for taking a little longer..” you say hoping to ease her a bit. Your mother sighs in relief before your father speaks up.

“Come on now.. we’ve come here for one reason and we don’t want to keep him waiting..” you wanted to roll your eyes. Since when did you agree to this!?! Never. You don’t get why you don’t choose on your own.

“Yes..father..” you say with a polite voice.. oh how you wanted to shout at his face.. you all approach the castle’s door.. slowly opening.. it reveals a long hallway full of butlers and maids ready to take any command. They all stare at you making you a little nervous. Not like you were nervous a whole lot.

“Your highness.. the family is waiting for you in the meeting room..” one maid said bowing. “Follow me..” she added.. you follow her, your nerves going up each second as you get closer. You wonder how he looks, how he acts, what would he think of you? Questions were quickly filling up your mind to the point you didn’t realize you'd arrived at the door..

“Yn.? Yn? Sweetie?” You heard your name ring called. You slightly shake a bit before facing your mother.. “Y-yes..?” You asked..fidgeting with your fingers.. “Are you alright??” she looks at your concern. “Huh..yeah I’m fine..” totally fine.. NO! You were a mess!! Of course you weren’t fine. “Oh alright, are you ready?..” What?!?! No!?! If you could, you'd definitely jump off a bridge. “I guess..” nope.

With that you walk into the room seeing the old couple sitting down discussing something until they notice your presence. Stopping, they smile at you softly. They don’t seem that bad..but that doesn’t mean the same as for their son.

“You must be yn..” the old man asked. You nodded your head.. “Yes, your highness, that would be me.” You said politely, bowing. “No need to be formal..as you’ll be marrying my son..” you put on a fake smile.. hoping it was somewhat believable. You take a seat..somewhat calmer than before. You sit in your seat as your parents talk with his parents. You can’t believe these two will be your in-laws. You sigh with boredom. Your gaze lands in the stained glass window.. the sunlight leaving a beautiful color on the table. That’s when you hear a deep voice.

“Sorry for being late mother and father..” it’s him.. you don’t want to turn around but can’t help it. “Oh my son!” His dad says cheerfully getting up and walking towards him. You slowly turn around and see him. You’re beyond shocked he was..very.. handsome.. very much your type. He looks like a golden retriever of some sort.. his presence felt so..bubbly. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Air caught in your throat. His black hair is nicely styled, brown eyes with a sparkle, and oh, that sweet smile of his.. but looks can’t say all. The prince.. greets his parents before greeting yours. Your eyes followed his every movement. He eventually turned his direction towards you. You quickly get up too much for your liking, and bow..

“It’s nice to meet you..?” The prince starts off.. “Yn…” you say softly. Your heart skips a beat. “Yn..lovely name..” He takes your hand and kisses it.. “Name’s Jaeyun.. but just call me Jake, sweetheart..” Sweetheart oh you could definitely faint on the spot.

“How about you two get to know a little more about each other..” his mother suggested.. “Of course mother.. here come with me..” he says before taking your wrist in his hand. He takes you over to the backyard revealing a huge field..

“So yn.. I’ll be marrying you..” Right.. “yeah..” you said awkwardly.. “Not bad..I wasn’t expecting someone like you.. more quiet than most..and definitely very very beautiful..” oh gosh he just called you beautiful. You can feel your face getting warm, maybe it’s just the weather. “Thank you..” Jake nodded his head.. “I didn’t agree to this.. parents choice.. but now that I think about it I don’t mind at all now..” Jake adds leaving you stunned so he felt the same way.. “Huh..me too.” You say with wide eyes looking at him.. Jake could just kiss you right now, but he had some self control in him. “Feelings are mutual..so you don’t mind being my wife?” Oh now he was teasing you. “What? I never said anything..”

“I know but the way your body language is speaking right now says the opposite, but don’t worry sweetheart.. I don’t mind you being my wife.” Jake says before kissing you on the lips and walking away leaving you flustered. Oh boy were you so happy.

Author’s Note: I did it yay! Umm I thought of this out of nowhere and just liked the idea so here it is .. this was what I was straying to finish.

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

#kflixnet #mari: works * #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #enhypen crack #enhypen angst #enhypen soft hours #enha x reader #enha imagines #enha fluff #enha reactions #enha #enha scenarios #sim jaeyun #jake sim fluff #jake sim x reader #sim jake #jake sim #sim jaeyoon #enhypen jake #jake x reader #enha jake

[sunny44]

She’s mine

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader

Warnings: just a sexy blurb.

Summary: Where Y/n makes a plan to get Max to finally admit that he likes her.

The night was young, and the vibrant atmosphere of the club pulsed with electrifying energy. I walked across the dance floor, my scandalous red dress capturing the attention of everyone around me. I knew I was being excessive, but sometimes, being subtle simply wasn't an option.

My eyes met Charles's across the dance floor, and a mischievous smile played on his lips as I approached him. I knew Charles was Max's friend, and we had exchanged messages earlier for me to explain my plan to make Max act once and for all.

"Charles.” I said, my sweet voice laden with a suggestive tone. "Having fun?"

Charles winked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I as up to, and he was more than willing to help.

"Loads, but eager to see Max's reaction to your plan.” Y/n laughed, a melodious sound that echoed over the thumping music.

"Thanks for helping me, by the way. Your friend is a slowpoke."

"Yeah, I thought he would have made a move by now with the way you two act."

"Me too." He laughed, and I noticed Max finding me in the middle of the crowd, his smile evident as soon as he saw who was with me. So, I leaned close to Charles's ear and spoke. “Max is not liking what he's seeing right now. Do you think we should dance and make him even more jealous?"

"Well, what are we waiting for?"

And so, the two of us began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music as my plan unfolded. I could feel Max's eyes on me, and it was exactly what I wanted.

I was determined to make him finally take action.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Max watched with jealous eyes ablaze. He knew I was flirting with Charles, and he couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.

He navigated through the crowd to the DJ booth, where Martin commanded the beats.

"Martin, turn off the music.” he ordered, his voice heavy with urgency.

"What? Why?"

"Just turn off the music for a minute, please.” he said, somewhat irritated.

Martin raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding that something important was happening.

With the music dimmed, all eyes turned to Max as he pointed to Y/n, who was now illuminated by the spotlight, her red dress shining like a blazing flame in the club's darkness.

"Are you all seeing that girl?" Max's voice echoed through the club, and besides the light, he also pointed his finger at me. "Talk to her, look at her, or breathe near her, and you'll have a problem with me. She's mine."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as Max's eyes locked onto me, a wild intensity that made me tremble slightly.

But then I saw Charles's mischievous smile, and I knew it had all been worth it.

My heart raced as I saw Max coming towards me, maneuvering through the people who had started dancing again when Martin had turned the music back on.

"Max..."

He took my hands, pulling me close to him, and kissed me, and it was one of those breath-taking kisses.

"I know I've been an idiot all this time, procrastinating instead of asking you to be my girlfriend, but I can't deny anymore what I feel for you."

"Finally.” I say, and he looks at me surprised. "You really are an idiot, I had to plan with Charles to make you jealous so that you finally admitted out loud that you want me as your girlfriend."

"You two planned this?"

"Obviously, don't get me wrong, Charles is hot but not really my type."

"And what's your type?"

"Dutch, world champion, and completely clueless when a hot girl is after him." He laughs and pulls me closer.

"There are plenty of hot girls after me."

"Yeah, but I'm the only one who will get something else out of you." I whispered back and saw the hairs on his neck stand up.

"Wanna get out of here?"

"Definitely."

Bonus scene!

Maxverstappen instagram stories

“She’s definitely mine”

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 #f1 instagram au #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen headcanons #max verstappen wallpaper #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x charles leclerc #max verstappen x you #max verstappen angst #max verstappen au #max verstappen social media au #max verstappen series #max verstappen icons #max verstappen headers #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanart #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen masterlist #max verstappen moodboard #max verstappen drabble #mv1 x reader #mv1 #mv33

[permanentswaps]

Building Each Other Up Pt. 3

Read Pt. 1 here and Pt. 2 here.

Shane’s POV

‘I'm not kidding, Mark. I wanna swap back,’ I angrily texted. I stared at the screen, waiting for the blue bubble to pop up and signal the message had gone through. Instead, my message popped up green with a little red circle saying ‘Not Delivered.’

“Fuck, did that asshole block me?” I muttered to myself, feeling a surge of anger.

It had been almost two weeks since Mark forced me out of my own body and into his, which meant he had been controlling my body full time for almost a month. At first, I thought I could handle it. And despite the bullshit he pulled, I wanted to trust him. But now, it was clear that he was enjoying my life a little too much.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising panic. It hadn't been the worst experience being in Mark’s body again. I had enjoyed indulging in some cheat foods and cigars I hadn’t been allowing myself, and I still managed to pull girls without much effort (I mean Mark was still a good looking guy). There was even a nostalgic element to being back in his body after so long.

But the bodybuilding competition was tomorrow. I had been working towards this for so long, and the thought of not competing in my own body was infuriating.

Grabbing my phone again, I tried calling him, but it went straight to voicemail. "Damn it, Mark! Answer your fucking phone!" I shouted, slamming it down on the counter.

"Okay, well, I guess I'll have to take matters into my own hands," I muttered to myself.

Mark had mentioned earlier this week that he needed to make more of the potion. He said it was a bit of an involved process, but with the competition coming up, he just didn't have the time. I knew better. I'd made the potion with him a few times, and while it was a bit complicated, it didn't take that long. Maybe two to three hours tops.

"Alright," I said to myself. "It doesn't seem like I'm getting any help from him, so I guess I'll just make some on my own."

After rummaging through the cabinets and drawers in the kitchen, I found everything I needed. I set up in the kitchen, feeling a strange mix of nostalgia and frustration. As I started cooking, memories of the first time we made the potion together came flooding back. We were both so excited about getting me some gains back then.

Following the steps carefully, I mixed the ingredients, heating them just right on the stove. After about two and a half hours, I had a batch of the potion ready. It wasn’t quite the right color – a bit more greenish than usual – but I had followed all the steps correctly.

"Good enough," I said, pouring the potion into a vial.

I made my way over to my apartment, feeling a mixture of anxiety and determination. Mark had insisted we go about our routines as normally as possible to avoid raising suspicion, but I knew that if I was going to get my body back, I had to act quickly.

As I approached the door, I fished out the vial of potion from my pocket. "No sense in asking him to swap back if he’s been avoiding me," I muttered to myself. I took a deep breath and downed the potion in one go, the familiar bitter taste washing over my tongue.

I entered the key code and opened the door, my heart pounding in my chest. I could hear movement in the bedroom, the sound of my own footsteps pacing around. Mentally preparing myself, I quietly made my way towards the noise.

I run in there and dive into my back. Except, once inside, I realize immediately that something is wrong. I'm not in control. I'm just a passenger in this body. Panic sets in as I shout in my head, "Mark, you fucker, what did you do?" But there's no reply. Shit, he can't hear me.

I feel myself walk over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. Except it isn't me. It's some random kid. Who the fuck is this, I think to myself.

Not only did I make the potion wrong, I jumped into some random guy. And who the hell is he? Why is he alone in my apartment? My mind races with confusion and dread.

I hear the door open again and watch as my old self – Mark in my body – walks into the room.

"Hey babe," he says, his voice filled with affection as he pulls me in for a tender kiss. I'm shocked, but I can't do anything to resist.

"How was the gym?" I hear my body ask, its voice sounding strangely detached from my own thoughts.

"Oh, great," Mark responds, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I think I'm in great shape for the competition." He flexes his muscles for emphasis. "But I'm still feeling a bit stressed," he adds, smirking at me seductively, walking to the bathroom and quickly indulging in some pump selfies.

I feel myself following him into the bathroom, my body moving on its own accord. I know what’s about to happen Panic sets in as I try to turn off my subconscious, but it's no use, I'm trapped.

I watch as my body turns on the water, and Mark looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Before we get in, I know how much you like my post-workout musk," he says with a smirk.

Despite my internal protests, I also feel a strange sense of anticipation. Mark pulls my head towards his armpit. I take a deep inhale and then begin to lick, finding it surprisingly tolerable. The taste is musky and slightly salty, but not as overpowering as I feared.

Once the shower is nice and steamy, we step in, enveloped in the warmth and the mist swirling around us. My new body takes the lead, its hands gliding over Mark’s – I mean my body’s – skin, caressing every curve and contour with the gentle pressure of the sudsy soap and the softness of the loofah. His muscles relax under my touch, and a contented sigh escapes his lips as I lavish attention on him.

Then, it's Mark's turn to return the favor. My body tries to make itself look as sexy as possible for him.

He turns me around, his touch sending shivers down my spine as he runs the loofah over my skin. I close my eyes, lost in the sensation of his hands caressing me, focusing on the way his fingers linger on my ass.

When he squeezes and playfully slaps my ass, I'm taken aback by the surge of arousal that washes over me. My heart races as I feel myself growing excited at his touch, unable to control the growing heat between my legs.

"Fuck," I feel my voice mutter, the intensity of the moment clearly overwhelming the guy in control of this body. If this didn’t fell so good, I would’ve realized that I’d never felt aroused by another guy when I had controlled Mark’s body

As Mark's hard cock pressed against my eager hole, a jolt of conflicting emotions surged through me. “I can’t be here for this,” I thought to myself, trying and failing again to retreat to my subconscious.

Then, finally, I felt the exhilarating sensation of him entering me.

Despite my initial resistance, a wave of unexpected pleasure washed over me, leaving me stunned by the intensity of the experience.

"Fuck," I thought, momentarily forgetting who I even actually was.

The sensation of being filled by my former cock was overwhelming. I find myself lost in the moment, my body eagerly responding to his every touch and thrust. I can’t deny the pleasure coursing through my veins as he drives into me.

As the pleasure builds to a crescendo, I feel myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, my mind consumed by the raw intensity of the experience.

“Unghhhh Shane” I hear my voice moan uncontrollably.

That definitely got a reaction out of him. He starts thrusting into me even deeper.

“Wait,” I thought, “he’s not just enjoying this kids admittedly built body …  is he getting off on being me?”

“Fuck yeah, keep saying daddy’s name” he replies.

“Fuck me harder Shane,” I hear my voice beg.

Finally, with a guttural groan, Mark reaches his peak, his hot cum flooding into me, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through my body. I feel myself clenching around him, my own release echoing his as we both ride the waves of pleasure to completion.

As we catch our breath, Mark pulls away, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. Basking in the physical afterglow, I find myself struggling to come to terms with what just happened.

“That was another great one, babe. Your ass is so incredible,” he says, his voice tinged with satisfaction.

“Thanks, babe,” my body responds automatically, a smile forming on my lips as I lean in for another kiss under the warm cascade of water.

I had a million questions still racing around my head – “who is this kid”, “why can’t he hear me”, “how can I get my body back” – but one thought dominates above all others: When can I do that again?

To Be Continued ...

[noyasmashing]

thinking about boob man tamaki…

The door creaked softly behind Tamaki as he let it fall shut behind him, the sound barely audible over the gentle hum of the stove and the aroma of simmering soup. He was home earlier than usual from his patrols, and he could tell you hadn't noticed his arrival. He had been looking forward to this moment all day, wanting nothing more to wrapped in your arms.

As he walked into the kitchen, he was hit by the warm and cozy atmosphere. You stood at the stove, your hips swaying gently as you hummed and stirred the soup with a wooden spoon. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun, eyes were fixed on the pot with a focused expression. You were completely absorbed in the task at hand, oblivious to his presence.

Tamaki couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked. He quietly approached you, his footsteps muffled by the soft carpet. As he reached your side, he pressed his body against yours, his hands snaking up to mold your breasts. You didn't flinch or react, too engrossed in cooking dinner to notice his sudden proximity.

"I'm home, momma," Tamaki whispered into your neck, his voice tired and husky from the day's patrol. You put the lid back on the pot, your movements slow and deliberate. "How was my baby's day?" you asked softly, feeling his warm breath fan your neck.

Tamaki's hands tightened their grip on your chest, as if he was reluctant to let go. "It was good," he admitted,"I missed you, a lot." He buried his face in your neck, his nose twitching as he breathed in the scent of your perfume.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You reached out and took a spoon from the drawer, holding it out to Tamaki with a gentle smile. "I'm making Ojingeo-guk for dinner," you said lightly. "Want a taste?" You asked, noticing how his eyes lit up at the prospect of food.

Tamaki nodded eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of the spicy soup. He took the spoon from you and dipped it into the pot, savoring the rich taste in his mouth.

"I think it needs a bit more salt," he said, his voice tinged with a hopeful tone.

"Got it, sweetie," you purred, grabbing the salt shaker and giving him a sly smile. His knees always grew weak when you called him that. He couldn't help but nuzzle his head into you neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“missed you today," he whispered yet again, his voice laced with longing, as if he expected you to notice the obvious erection pressing against the curve of your back. His words were accompanied by a gentle rocking motion, as if he was trying to convey his emotions without being too obvious.

You chuckled lightly, amused by his antics. "I can tell," you said, playfully teasing him. "I bet you want a bath huh?" The suggestion was met with a nod, his ears flushing with embarrassment as his grip on you tightened.

#dom reader #dom!reader #sub character #tamaki amajiki #amajiki x reader #bnha amajiki #tamaki amakiji #amajiki tamaki x reader #mha amajiki #amajiki fluff #amajiki smut #tamaki x reader #mha tamaki #sub mha #domme mommy #mommy k!nk #dom mommy

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

#my stand in #my stand in the series #my stand-in #professional body double #my stand in novel spoilers #msi thoughts #poom phuripan #up poompat #claire opens up her goddamn mouth

[xylianasblog]

smut with neteyam plzzz???and neteyam tells her “all u gotta do is breathe, ima handle the rest baby” or “are u still with my baby?” omgg i would meltt if he said that to mee

Why not me?

Pairing: Agedup Neteyam x FemNavi reader

Summary: Your best friend is a bit of a playboy but with you he’s a sweet mess.

Warnings: MDNI, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, angst to comfort, virgin reader

A/n: sorry it took a bit, it’s not proof read so sorry for any misspellings but I hope you enjoy 🥺💕

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦MDNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

You followed behind Neteyam quietly as he was currently going on about one of the females in the village, Li’ telia. A woman like he was everything that scream perfection for Neteyam, not to mention she was just as beautiful as her name.

He was leading you to the secret spot y’all have together, you were listening but you couldn’t help but wonder what these other girls had that you didn’t. “Y/n” Neteyam called your name. You looked up to see you both deep within your hiding spot, the trees and leaves blocking you both away from the outside world. You could feel his eyes on you as you made yourself comfortable on the mossy ground.

“What’s wrong Paskalin?” The question caught you off guard, what was wrong. Well of course you knew but is that really something you could tell him. He sat quietly beside you, letting you have this moment to think it over and once you felt you had the words to speak you did.

“Is there… something wrong with me?” You whispered as you turned to face him completely. “You do not do me like these other girls, and the men of the clan do not wish to approach or court me. Is there something wrong with me?” You asked a little louder, your eyes shining with unshed tears.

Neteyam stared at you with wide eyes, the shock ever present at the way you were feeling. The frown on his face definitely didn’t fit his handsome features. His hands cupped your face gently, rubbing your cheek affectionately. “You are perfect baby.” The demon word rolling of his tongue so perfectly you had to close your eyes for a moment. “You are so perfect in every way Txe’lan. I have not treated you the way I treat other females because you aren’t them. You deserve so much better.” He said truthfully.

When you didn’t answer Neteyam brought your face closer to his, your eyes stayed closed as you played his words over in your head. “You deserve to be treated with care and so many males of the clan are undeserving of you.” His words made you giggle a little as you opened your eyes to look over his face, a small pout on your lips once your giggles died down.

“Teyammmm.” You whined. “I don’t want to be a virgin forever! I do wish to have a mate and kids.” Your whining made him chuckle, his fingers rubbing your cheeks lightly before his hands moved down to your waist. They stopped a moment before continuing down his touch made you shiver as his fingers brushed over your ass, his touch was gentle and light to be honest you weren’t even sure you it was happening until your felt his fingers grabbing ahold of your thighs and pulling you into his lap.

“I can fix that.”

Those simple words struck a cord with you, your eyes traveling down to his lips before looking back up into his eyes. You were so distracted by your thoughts you were so unfocused, not aware as he later you on your back. His hands roaming around your body as he pressed soft kisses to from your neck to your lips. The kiss took you by surprise but you returned it nonetheless, it was soft and sweet paired with the sensation of his hands touching your body.

Neteyam‘s hands pulled the straps of your top down exposing more skin to the cool air, you shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin. The cold air was a stark contrast to the warm hand that pressed against you.

"T-Tteyam." You mumbled, feeling your cheeks warm as his touch made you squirm. His tongue slid into your mouth, a muffled whimper escaping you as your tongues danced. You felt Neteyam’s buldge pressing against you, grinding against you each time his lips pressed harder into yours. You felt your core begin to ache, a desperate need wishing to be fulfilled.

Neteyam let out a soft coo as he pulled away, sitting back on his knees as he stared down at you. His hands now working on removing your loincloth along with his, and once you both were naked he took his time to admire your body. “You are absolutely beautiful, so perfect for me.” The praise had your body responding in ways like never before.

“Now relax, I need to stretch your pretty little pussy to fit around my cock.” He whispered, his tub finding itself on your swollen nub, he gave rubbing gentle circles. He wanted to you feel the pleasure he could bring you, and only him. He wanted you to know how good only he could make you feel and while you were distracted he with his thumb rubbing your clit his fingers teased at your slick entrance before being pushed in slowly. Inch my inch he eased his finger in, thrusting it in and out of you. He watched the way your mouth opened as small moans slipped free, your legs twitching when he rubbed your sweet spot occasionally.

Neteyam was determined to bring you close to the edge, he wanted you absolutely ready for him. After a moment he eased a second figure inside, taking his time to stretch you open for him. “That’s it, good girl. Taking my fingers so well, you much really want my cock huh?” You couldn’t even respond this was a side of your best friend you’ve never seen and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t attractive. You whimpered at the loss of his fingers I got to quiet down when you felt the tip of his length pressing against your entrance.

Your eyes widened and your body immediately tensed up the action immediately noticed by Neteyam, he gave a little chuckle as he hooked his hands around your thighs and pulled you closer. spreading your legs to give himself more room. “Take a breath, txe’lan.” He murmured as she pushed in slowly, he watched as your sopping wet cunt swallowed him inch by inch until he was fully bottomed out.

You moaned out hands reaching out to touch at his stomach, he let out a small tsk as he pulled out till just the tip onto the thrust back inside swiftly. The action had you crying out as your walls tightened up. “Relax baby, all you gotta do is let me take care of you.”

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺꒦꒷❀꒷꒦༻❀✿❀༺ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @blue-slxt @justcaptiannoodles @neteyamyawne @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @plooto @itchaboi-itchyboy @eywaite @luvv4j4ybe11 @quicktosimp @cardi-bre91 @torukmaktoskxawng @rivatar @thepeonysbackup @tallulah477

#⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ xylianas asks ♡ ✧˖*°࿐ #avatar #avatar twow #neteyam smut #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow neteyam #atwow smut

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Crushed 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, manipulation, cheating, sleazy behaviour, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your next door neighbours hook up, bringing to surface deep-seated feelings.

Characters: Colin Shea, Jonathan Pine

Note: it's hump day, let's get humped.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like my dog loves belly rubs (that’s a lot). Take care. 💖

Jonathan doesn’t drive you back to your building. Instead, you walk with him through the halls to his condo. You stop outside the door as he slips the bags up to his wrist and unlocks the door. He holds it open and waves you inside. 

You enter, rubbing your arm nervously. It’s been a long day. A long few days. You’re exhausted. You catch a yawn in your hand as you hug yourself with one arm and peer around. 

“I’ll have to go into the office tomorrow. Can’t be avoided much longer,” he explains as he puts the bags on the side table, “you will stay here. To be safe.” 

“Oh, uh, right,” you sway back and forth as you press your palm to the side of your neck, “um, I don’t mind--” 

“I mind,” he interjects, “I can’t trust that animal not to act as what he is. Darling, you must think, yes? Learn from your mistakes. We both know he’s dangerous. I wouldn’t put you in such danger and I would hope you wouldn’t walk right into it.” 

“I know, I wasn’t... I just... I wouldn’t want to impose,” your eyes drift away meekly, “that’s all.” 

“Impose? Have I not made my feelings clear?” He approaches you, brushing his knuckles up your arm, “I cannot get enough of you, fawn.” 

You smile but it’s hard. You feel weak. The day is only half done and you could keel over. He brings his hand up to cradle your cheek, “what is it?” 

“Just tired,” you shrug. 

“Mmm, how about... I’ll run you a nice hot bath. You can relax. We’ve done rather much today... you have been through even more,” he gives a doleful look, “you let me worry for everything. All will turn out, I’m certain.” 

“I guess,” you purse your lips. It’s easy enough for him to say. He still has a job, you’re not so sure you do. 

“Darling,” he brings a bent finger under your chin, tiling your head, “I will take care of you.” 

Your lips part but you quickly close them. You don’t want to argue right now. You don’t want to point out that everything is still fresh and new. Or that he might not feel the same in a month or two. Or a year. Especially if you’re unemployed. 

One day he’ll see how worthless you are. 

“So let’s get that bath going,” he bends to kiss your forehead, “I’ve some bath salts which may help ease the tension. I’ll light a few candles...” he rambles as he turns and strides down the hallway. You follow after him reluctantly, as much as the bath sounds nice, you already feel like a burden. 

You stand in the doorway as you watch him remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves. He fusses over the tub as of you’re not there. The water spills out into the deep porcelain basin and he stands. He turns and gestures to a towel on a silver bar. 

“That is clean,” he says before he opens the tall cupboard near the sink, “bath salt... rose.” 

He reads the canister before he uncaps it. He turns to add a sprinkle to the water, the floral aroma rising with the steam. He sets it aside and beckons you into the bathroom. You cross the tile as you play with the hem of your shirt. 

He brushes past you and you turn to watch him go. You face the tub again and pull up your shirt. You let your pants slip down your legs and as you straighten, you hear him return. He places a three-wick candle on the ledge above the tub and lights it. 

He looks at you, his eyes roving up and down, and he smirks, “I’m almost tempted to join you, darling, but alas, I do have a few things to tend to.” 

“That’s... okay,” you murmur, hugging yourself as you stand in panty and bra.  

He scoffs, “why are you playing shy, eh?” He nears and tickles along your collar bone, sending a shiver through you. 

“I’m not, I’m... cold,” you lie and turn your attention to the tub. 

“Mm, if you need any help warming up,” his fingers flutter up your neck before he retracts his touch, “should you need me, you need only call my name, fawn.” 

“Alright,” you eke out. 

You wait until he’s past you but don’t check to see if he’s gone. You strip down the rest of your clothes and near the tub. You lift your legs over the edge and sink into the water. You sigh as the warmth seeps into you. 

You close your eyes as the water continues to lap down by your feet. You try to let the tension out. You’re thinking too much.  

💔

You button up the shirt Jonathan left for you. You still feel uneasy as you slip into bed but you’re too tired to care. You might be invading his space but he doesn’t seem to mind much. Besides, the hot water has finished you off. You just want to sleep forever. 

Your eyes roll back and you hide from the world. It doesn’t quite fade away, still vaguely present on the other side of your eyelids. That hazy itchiness settles in your head but the fog just won’t thicken to darkness. You’re awake, barely, kept conscious by the nerves rattling in your chest. 

In your stupour, you remain vaguely aware of your unusual surroundings. Despite the threat that lingers on the other side of the walls, you can’t help but miss your apartment. It’s the first space that was truly your own. All that’s ruined.  

You hear a dulcet tone, a low hum that’s soothing a much as it is stirring. You roll onto your side and grumble, peeling open your eyes as your ears prick. Jonathan’s voice precedes him into the room. You blink at him from the bed, curled up under the blankets as your warmth keeps you in place. 

“Yes, I will have her there, never you worry,” he says breezily, “mm, yes, I’ve the time. I’ll add it to my calendar. Shouldn’t be any issue.” As you watch him, he meets your gaze and his brows flick up as he grins, “thanks, Eugenia, can’t wait. Yes, you have a wonderful night.” 

He pulls the phone away from his ear and you recognise the case and the cracked protector. It’s yours. What the heck? You sit up and reach instinctively for him. 

“Hey, that’s my phone,” you accuse. 

“Yes, it was ringing and I thought you asleep. It was only your mother,” he drops the phone on the bed next to you. “I could hardly answer between messages from that pest you call a neighbour.” 

“What?” You grasp the cell and slide it closer. 

“She only wanted to confirm the time for the engagement party next weekend. You can wear one of your new dresses,” he explains as he goes to the wall mirror and checks his reflection, smoothing his hair before he unbuttons his collar. He works a path down the row and the fabric slackens around his shoulders. “I’ve made certain to make record of each message that creature sends. We may just need to consult authorities.” 

“Colin? I—I blocked him.” 

“Please do not say his name. It’s absolutely hideous, isn’t it?” He faces you as he shrugs off his shirt. “It seems he has found an alternative, that chit he keeps around.” 

“Ally?” You wonder. 

“Mmm, is that her name,” he drones as he dumps his shirt into the hamper. “Well, we needn’t worry about them much longer.” 

He continues to undress as you pull yourself up against the pillows. Things just keep happening and you can’t keep up. You look up as he wears nothing but his short cotton boxers and nears the bed. You peek down at your phone and put it on the night table to right of the bed. 

“I do think you should call your landlord and give notice sooner than later,” he climbs onto the foot of the bed. 

“Notice?” You echo in confusion, “why--” 

“You cannot go back, darling, it’s not safe,” he tugs at the blanket, pulling it away from your body, “I cannot in good conscience let you return.” 

“But I—we can just let things mellow out, right? Colin will get over it--” 

“I told you,” he grabs your ankle, “do not utter his name at me.” 

He pulls you so you fall flat on your back. You throw your arms out and gasp as your head bounces onto the mattress. He separates your legs and perches between them. You lift yourself on your elbows, breathless, and stare at him. 

“I can’t stay forever--” 

“Did I ever say that?” He challenges, his blue eyes blazing up at you. 

“No, but--” 

“I understand things have escalated quickly, fawn, but we will figure it all out. I will be certain to clarify everything at the office, let them know it was simply not your doing,” his eyes cling to your face and narrow before slowly descending. 

He glides his hands up your legs, crawling closer on his knees. He slides his touch beneath the loose shirt and tickles your naked skin. He sends a chill through you that speckles hotly. He feels your body, running his hands up and your torso as you quiver. 

He slips his hands above the fabric as he kneels between your thighs. He unbuttons the shirt to your belly button, unveiling your chest and bending to dote on it. He cups one side as his mouth explores the other; nipping and nuzzle. You let out a pathetic noise as you cradle the back of his head. 

You arch your back as his warmth draws you in and chases away your doubts. His long fingers soothe you and his intensity overpowers you. As much as this man has you uncertain, you cannot resist him. It feels nice to be wanted even if it isn’t who you wanted. 

💔

Once more, you fall asleep in the afterglow of Jonathan’s attentions. How easily he can obfuscate your fears and doubts. How his touch can so easily distract you from the things that might keep you awake.  

The weight of his arm settles over you, holding you to him, his hard long body coiled around yours. He keeps a leg curled between yours as his hot breath seeps into your scalp. You’re content, you’re safe. 

Your sleep is only disturbed as he untangles himself carefully from you. You don’t rouse entirely, clinging to the pillow and dregs of fatigue. He tucks the blanket under your figure and the bed shifts with the absences of his weight. His scent lingers behind him. 

You sink back down and fall flat on your back, spreading out across the mattress. The late night lull settles over you, lulling you down as the distant drone of Jonathan’s lilted voice further coaxes you. You moan through your slumber and roll onto his side, longing for him to return. 

You blink and the blue digits of the clock have changed. Twenty minutes and he’s still not back. You shiver and flutter your eyelashes, rubbing your cheeks as you force yourself awake. You sit up dizzily, you can still hear him. 

You shimmy to the edge of the bed and stand. You hug yourself as a shiver washes over your naked flesh. The button-up is lost somewhere in the bedding. You put your feet down softly as you pad across the room, following his timbre as it come between sharper tones. 

You creep out into the hall, a bluish glow drawing you in. You follow the cool hardwood to the front room and hide in the dim as you squint. Jonathan has his phone in hand, the screen alight as his profile is limned in its shine. He watches it intently as you recognise the voice chirping from the speaker. 

“That’s so lovely, dear, hope we can see you soon,” his mother chimes. 

You waver on your feet. Oh, you shouldn’t listen. 

“Will she be coming?” His father’s gristly accent comes through. 

You pause before you can back up. Jonathan clicks his tongue, “yes, I think so.” 

“Jon,” his mother titters, “oh, that’s so exciting! That’s... big.” 

“Eh, yes, don’t think you ever let us meet one of the birds,” he father chides. 

“Father, she’s not... don’t call her that,” Jonathan rebukes. 

“I’m teasing, yeah?” The elder Pine chortles, “you’re gonna have to warn her about us. If that place has made you so soft, I shouldn’t want to scare the girl.” 

“Father,” Jonathan utters once more, “she’s... not... She’s perfect.” 

His mom squeals and giggles. You gulp and press yourself against the wall. What is he talking about? He’s talking about taking you somewhere. To his home? That’s a far way. Something he should probably ask you first. His mother is entirely correct; that’s big. His compliments cannot counteract the shock of his one-sided decision. 

You sidle along the hallway, careful not to place your feet too heavily. As you near the bedroom, your elbow hits the frame and the thump casts silence through the apartment. Shoot. 

You peer toward the front room and see Jonathan’s shadow closing in. He must have heard your misstep. You quickly flit into the room and ease into the bed. You pull the blankets over you and turn your back to the door. Your heart is racing. 

You sense him in the doorway, watching you. Silent. 

“Everything okay, son?” His father asks. 

“Yes, it’s... fine,” Jonathan answers, “I’ll let you go. Wouldn’t want to wake her.” 

“Oh yes, get some sleep,” his mother insists, “love ya.” 

“Night, son.” 

Jonathan crosses the room and you hear his phone meet the table on his side of the bed. The mattress dips as he climbs in and pulls the blanket over himself, nestling in close to you. He sighs and hums as he hugs you to him once more. 

You lay, frozen and silent, praying he can’t feel your pulse. 

“Did I wake you?” He whispers and kisses your crown. 

You force a groan from your throat and feign grogginess, “hmm, oh, no...” You wiggle into the mattress and yawn, putting your hand over his. 

“Back to sleep, darling,” he purrs as he nuzzles you.  

#colin shea #jonathan pine #dark colin shea #dark!colin shea #dark jonathan pine #dark!jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #colin shea x reaader #what's your number? #the night manager #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #multifandom