#and i guess felt betrayed by the man she loved | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months

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Hi, I just found your blog, and I love your Simon's fics! I was wondering if i could please request something where Reader and Simon had broken up bc he thought he put her in danger. After a few months, he comes to her after a mission and they spend the night but he leaves before she wakes up thinking hes doing whats best (and all that angsty jazz 🥲🤭) . A few weeks after she finds out shes pregnant and decides to take on her own, as reader thinks simon wouldnt care. But maybe one of the guys see her heavy preggo and tell simon, and hes fuming and super protective mode is on.

Sorry if it is too specific and for the terrible english. I just have this idea, and i dont think i can picture it right. Anyway, thanks for reading this and for your good work on your fics 💗 hope you have a lovely day

—Digging Gaze

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You indulge in a one-night-stand after you'd both called it quits, only, it leads to more problems. When he sees you again, how will he react to the swelling of your stomach?] ❞

You knew it was the effects of a less-than-gentle breakup, but you should have at least cursed him out before you let him have his way with you on the living room couch. You’d woken up back in bed, alone, and had gotten dropped back to where you had been weeks earlier—stuck in the throws of confusion and hurt.

Simon had left you, and he never gave you a reason.

A part of you was heated; pissed off and feeling betrayed by the insult, yet, the rest of you knew that Simon needed to have his reasons—he always did. Even if you didn’t agree with them, and you knew he tended to look at life with a glass-half-empty type of glance.

So that left you here.

You were pregnant.

You’d found out two weeks after you’d slept together for that last time, your cheeks still hot from the memory and your fingers clutching the plastic of a test.

Pregnant.

It had been a shock, a deep panic. The both of you had been reckless. Stupid. And while you had stared at those two pink lines, you felt a sinking in your gut akin to a drowning ship. Should you tell him? It would be proper, of course.

But you don’t think you can face him again after you’d awaken to an empty bed—as if your entire relationship had only been about sex and not the deep nights of confessions and soft brushes of skin. You knew Simon Riley better than he probably knew himself.

And you wouldn’t put this on him.

At seven months, you couldn’t walk as much as you could before—and you would huff for breath as you went up the stairs to change the sheets—but who else could do it but you? Shopping also fell to you, and so, you pushed a large cart around and packed the metal basket with cravings and necessities. That was when you fell to a familiar face.

“Johnny?” You ask, blinking.

The Scot pauses, turning. His brows furrowed for a moment before a kind smile peeled his lips back.

“Hen!” He comes closer, laughing. “Well, I haven’t seen you in a good minute, then. What have you been up to in all—”

The man freezes at the sight of your stomach, jaw going slack as you fight an internal war with yourself to say pleasantries and leave.

“Hell,” Johnny clears his throat. “I guess you’ve been doin’ a great deal.”

You sigh, shaking your head softly. “Thanks, Johnny.”

“I’m just joking, Little Lady.” The man laughs and waves a hand. “Who’s the lucky man then? I’ll have to meet him one of these days.”

Your face blanks and your lips snap shut in an instant.

Blue eyes wait for an answer as the silence laps over itself. Slowly but surely, the realization dawns on his face in a tight pull of horror.

“You can’t tell him,” you interrupt his tight gasp. “Not a peep, MacTavish, you hear?”

“What the fuck,” he breathes at you, hand coming up to his mouth as he glances down at your swelling bump. “Holy hell.”

“Johnny,” you snap, his eyes jerk back to you.

“It’s bloody Ghost’s—”

“You can’t,” you growl, coming closer, “tell him.”

“What do you mean I can’t tell him,” Johnny hisses under his breath, looking at the people passing by and lowering his tone. “You’re pregnant and he doesn’t know!”

“That’s the point,” you ease out, exasperated and feeling drained already. Jesus, you needed to go lay down—your back was killing you. “Johnny,” you breathe, growing softer as you reach out a hand and put it to his arm. He grips it and holds on, looking incredibly concerned. “He doesn’t need to know, okay? That’s a lot of stress on him, and you know what he does for work. Even worrying about me was hard on him, what do you think a child would do?”

“You can’t think like that,” the Scot mutters. “He can help—what, you mean to tell me you plan to do this by yourself?” It isn’t malicious how he says it; Johnny’s worried about you. Incredibly. “Hen, no,” he shakes his head. “No, you can’t.”

“I can, Johnny,” you frown, dread filling your heart. “And I will.”

In the future, you really had to take into account Johnny’s flapping lips when under the spell of alcohol. Maybe you had enough faith in him to watch himself for the last little while of your pregnancy as he had into the latter half of the eighth month.

And then three firm knocks were at your door, and when you opened it, you were face to face with a painted balaclava and frazzled brown eyes.

Those eyes immediately snap down, and not even a word is uttered to your face until then.

The both of you are stone-still. Frozen. Dead to all else.

You swear it was hours of this—standing in the doorway with Simon’s fingers stiff in his pockets and his chest not even moving in a pulse or flare of his lungs. He doesn’t even blink.

“How far along?” His voice is monotone. A low drone in the ringing of your ears.

Damn that Scot.

“Eight and a half,” you say quietly.

Brown eyes shift up to yours. Simon stares, and you see his jaw clench under his balaclava, his shoulders moving. Again a long pause.

“When’s the next appointment—”

“It’s a girl.” You see his eyelids peel back and halt there, watching you. “In case you care to stick around and see her.”

Cruel perhaps, but it was nothing short of how he acted while leaving you.

Simon’s hidden face is slack, stuttering silently for a moment as the light fades outside.

“Didn’t…didn’t know,” he grunts out, blinking quickly.

“I know you didn’t,” you utter. “That was the point, Simon.”

“Johnny told me ‘bout it, didn’t believe him.” His brown eyes swirl, breaking. “Thought you’d mention it if you were.”

“You left,” you breathe. “Why would I reach out to someone that did that to me.”

“M’sorry, I-I don’t…” Simon clears his throat, looking away. His eyes are glossy, fingers moving out of his pockets so his twitching hands can splay out. “Could have explained, but I didn’t know how, Love. I’m not…this isn’t…”

Words fail him just like his ability to explain his emotions. Part of him was angry—angry that you’d gone all this time without reaching out when he could have helped.

A daughter.

But he was afraid, as well. Terrified. You were in the right and he knew it. Simon didn’t know the first thing about being a father…but then again, you didn’t know how to be a mother, either.

This was new territory.

“Marry me,” Simon pushes out with a quick force of breath.

“Wh—,” you choke on air. “What?”

“Let me make it up to you, yeah?” Gloved hands move at his sides, eyes honest but still shiny. “Wasn’t thinking—my fault and I can’t go on if I don’t know you’re safe.” He licks at the corner of his mouth. “...Both of you. Thought leaving would make the best sense, but I was…fucking hell. M’sorry.”

“Simon, there are many more ways other than marriage.” Your anger wasn’t something that could be washed away that easily, even if your heart fluttered at the idea and his apology.

You had more self-respect than that.

“Let me fix this,” he whispers, leaning closer.

Your hand rests over your stomach, staying there as the minutes draw. Simon waits, nervous and his fingers tap on his thigh. You know he’s afraid. You know he’s nervous about what he could bring home from work, even if those are only his paranoia talking in his ear like a demon.

You frown.

You huff.

And you open the door wider.

“The sheets need changing in my room. Get on it.”

The man says nothing before he enters the house and slips off his boots; disappearing into the linen closet.

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yuellii · 8 months

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in the eyes of divine punishment

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 they devoted their life to a system you came to betray

feat. neuvillette, clorinde, childe ( separately )

note. reader’s gender unspecified, angst

NEUVILLETTE.

The people of Fontaine have never seen a downpour quite like this one, just as the reserved seats of the court have never seen the Chief Justice Neuvillette act so irrationally like today.

To deter every piece of evidence, to dismiss any accurate claims—they marked the words and actions of a manipulator he did not even intend to be. And yet, it was all so rational to him. To his own justified, lawful senses, you were completely innocent. You did not deserve this baseless conviction that sent you to trial, and you were certainly not guilty.

But when you could not even hold valid evidence to defend yourself, his constant dismissal of your prosecutor began to look so obviously biased.

“Wahh, I’ve never seen the Chief Justice act like this before!”

“I know right?! What a show!”

A show? To all these people, his lover being convicted of a crime ( one that he was so sure you did not commit ) was still a show to them? The anguish he was feeling just seeing you on the stand below him was still a show?

And throughout this whole ‘show’, even as you were swearing truth, you did not look him in the eyes even once. This was so obvious to not only the spectators, but even the Hydro Archon herself that this lack of eye contact was a sign of guilt—a sign that you could not even look the Monsieur in his eyes out of shame for what you committed.

But even so, even after all these signs pointing at your full fault, he was still in denial.

“Pardon my rudeness, Monsieur,” the prosecutor called to him, clearly frustrated much like the rest of the courtroom was, “but I’ve given my whole case and I have clearly refuted all my points now, I think it’s time for the verdict.”

Neuvillette cleared his throat. “It is not over until I say it is,” he glared at the man. “I do not believe there is sufficient enough evidence to—”

“No, no, I think you’ve dragged this out long enough,” Furina yawned. The Chief Justice paused, looking up to see the Archon sitting in boredom with her head resting atop her hand. “Don’t you hear the people, Neuvillette?” she raised her voice, almost as if calling upon the audience in hopes they would agree with her. And for once, the Monsieur feels this is the most frustrated he has even been with her. He may not forgive her this time for the childishness of her deeds; A childishness that will send his love into injustice.

“It’s time for the verdict,” Furina announced, “even though it may not be an outcome you will enjoy.” She sat upwards, looking at the Chief Justice straight in the eyes. “But the Oratrice… The Oratrice is never wrong.”

“So be it,” Neuvillette declared through gritted teeth. And as the blue light circled the courtroom, he spoke as the secondary judge, “I rule the defendant… Not guilty.” His verdict left his lips like a plea, all in sweet, desperate denial.

But the Oratrice Mecanique told otherwise.

Guilty.

Thunderstorms began to cloud across Fontaine.

CLORINDE.

“You aren’t worried about the murder conviction?” Navia questioned, eyes searching all across Clorinde’s face for any signs of distress or any look that pleaded for help.

The Champion Duelist simply replied, “Not at all.” Navia was surprised, to say the least, that it felt like her afternoon tea companion here could not care any less about the charges being pressed against you. “I know the trial will go smoothly,” Clorinde explained. “I was there personally to witness the events of what actually happened.”

“Oh!” Navia realized, suddenly feeling a bit guilty that she assumed anything otherwise. “Well that changes everything! Guess you don’t need my help, then.”

Clorinde only nodded. It was as simple as that: You would never murder someone. She knew it, you knew it, Navia knew it, everyone who was going to watch this trial probably knew it, too. These faulty charges against you were nothing but arrogant misunderstandings from the other party, and it was already foreseen that you were likely to win.

So now, why were you here, standing before the court, calling for a duel to prove your innocence instead of a trial?

“I object!”

“Clorinde, please do not disrupt the process of the proceedings.”

“But Monsieur—”

“By laws of the court,” Neuvillette commands, “This duel is allowed to take place.”

And time was a blur until the moment she stood in front of you in battle. She took pride in being a Champion Duelist, she really did—and you knew of such pride. But this was the first time she truly felt like an animal in a cage, as if she was a lion only tamed by the Gods to kill flesh and blood.

This felt like the ring of a gladiator where you were sentenced to death, only difference being it was against the blade of your lover’s sword. And such a sword was one that you had touched before, one that you had held with open ears as she told you countless of stories of her duels. Of her executions, of her devotion to justice and honor—and now those same ideals would be clashing down on your bloody shoulders.

“You can surrender now,” she practically pleaded, watching as you fell to your knees. She felt sick, knowing she had to perform under the eyes of the Gods. And she was just about ready to throw up from the way the citizens of Fontaine cheered at her like this was some show. She didn’t want to hear this cheering, like it was a good thing she was forcing herself to fight you. “Please, please just surrender now.”

But her heart hurt the longer you continued to pick yourself up from the dirt, prepared to die by her hands.

CHILDE.

“And then?” you smiled, absentmindedly tracing the veins at the back of his hand with your finger.

“And then, we’ll start a family together.” He sounded so excited, much in a way that he has every step of his future with you all figured out. There was a certain type of innocence that lingered in his voice when he spoke like this.

You laughed through your ever-growing grin, looking at him, “A family?” It sounded incredulous. “With me, an orphan of the wretched House of Hearth?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed. That was when he took the moment to close his eyes and press his forehead against yours, beginning to whisper the sweet promises of a future life together. And in this position, you could not see the reflection of death in his eyes, nor the ghost of bloodstains under his fingernails. Here, he was no fatuus, he was your lover.

Those were things Ajax selfishly ignored then, and ignored even now when it was too late.

Perhaps he forgot the true meaning of being a fatuus, because he chose to ignore the possibility that his only stability would be threatened by the very God he pledged his devoted allegiance to. The very God that no longer believed in love.

And now, here he stood in her divinity, the floor of ice below his shoes feeling colder than he remembered. Beside him stood the Knave, whom he kept glancing at, for he wished that she would show just an ounce of emotion in these moments. He clung onto impossibility, such as the beliefs that maybe this meeting wasn not real, and maybe the Tsaritsa was lying about you being a traitor.

He wanted to deny it all, even after he knew very well just how much you despised being tied to the House of Hearth. You hated being a fatuus all this time, yet continued to love a Harbinger like him—and your love was perhaps what blind-sighted him. Your love was so warm and welcoming, much unlike the cold bite of “love” his God gave.

“Arlecchino.” He spat her name out darkly once the doors closed behind them. “Let us forgo this mission.”

“Oh?” she almost grinned. A smile that never quite reached her eyes—one that looked like the smirk of a maniac. “So our target means something to you?”

“I will do anything you ask of me just to keep this person alive,” he promised, still attempting to hide just how important you were to him. But that demeaning upturn of amusement in her lips made him more and more desperate. “Please, I mean anything. Just don’t kill—”

“I take traitors of my orphanage very seriously, you know,” she smiled, looking down to inspect her glove so nonchalantly as if the tiny dust that laid atop it was more interesting than her fellow Harbinger’s pleading. “Punishment has always been the system I ran,” she said as she began to turn away. “And, it’s always been the system Her Beloved Majesty preferred.”

The door shut, and he was on his feet in an instant. He had to get to you—he had to finally realize that his own peer and his own trusted God showed no mercy to you. Even if you were his family, even if you were his light; Snezhnaya did not let go of traitors. Ajax learned to love you above and beyond the organization he pledged his life to, but he was also foolish enough to think they would never threaten you.

But as he stood here now, seeing your eyes wide open as you laid in your own blood, he felt that your fingertips were already as cold as the Tsaritsa’s love.

#neuvillette x reader #clorinde x reader #childe x reader #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette x you #ajax x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin angst

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hanjsquokka · 12 days

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She's Crazy But She's Mine - [ Han Jisung ]

🏍 SYNOPSIS : How hard could Jisung fall for a girl as dangerous as you? He knew you were crazy. But he couldn't deny the adrenaline that pumped through him as you revved down the empty highways, his arms around your waist as you drove to who knew where. You were reckless... and he was hopelessly in love.

GENRE : strangers to potential lovers, smut, angst, fluff if you squint

PAIRING : han jisung × f!reader

CONTENT WARNING : reader is a biker, jisung undergoes a sub-awakening, smut (warnings under the cut!), reckless driving, speeding, driving without a helmet, reader calls jisung pretty boy, smoking

WORD COUNT : 6.6K

AUTHOR'S NOTE : I was thinking biker girls and then Jisung popped up into my mind and it was honestly the most random thing I've done but it suits him so well. Also this took so long to finish and I'm not particularly happy with the ending but I hope you guys like it <3

minors dni. if you click read, you agree to nsfw content

SMUT WARNING : slight dom reader, switch jisung, fingering oral (f receiving), nipple play, marking, piv, protected sex, reader calls jisung good boy, whiny jisung

Jisung drummed his fingers along the open window of the car, the heat of the summer was dying down as evening settled in. His friend, Chan, was in the driver's seat, singing along horribly to PSY's Gangnam Style blasting on the radio. The man had a good voice but he often chose to torture Jisung's eardrums whenever they were together. It seemed like the red light was taking forever to turn green as they waited on the intersection of the highway.

The sound of a motorcycle engine next to him caught his ear — and boy was he glad the traffic light wasn't changing because goddamn. He felt like those guys in movies, when they see the female lead for the first time and it was like time stood still and some stupid love song played in the background as their vision tunneled to her. He wasn't trying to be rude, but with the tinted helmet obstructing his view of your face, his eyes drifted down (involuntarily) to the tight-fitting black leather jacket you wore and your pants —

“Need something?” You lifted your helmet up, presumably to drink water from the bottle you pulled out from the bag strapped to the engine, your head slightly tilted to the side so you could look at him from the corner of your eyes as you gulped down the water. He swallowed, his eyes trained on the way the leather hugged your bust perfectly. “My eyes are up here.”

That snapped him out of his trance, cheeks burning red with embarrassment as he met your teasing glance. “S-Sorry, I was — distracted? —”

“Uh huh.” You nodded sarcastically. “Have a nice drive.” You winked at him before putting the helmet back on. The traffic light betrayed his thoughts, switching from red to green, making you rev your engine and shoot down the intersection and out of sight.

Jisung wanted to melt into a puddle of shame as he heard Chan's raucous laughter at the interaction. Thank goodness he would never have to run into you again.

His happiness was short lived — as expected. The diner they stopped at had an enticing aroma of fried food. It was just the thing he needed after whatever happened earlier. Jisung sat at an empty table, checking his phone while Chan went and ordered their food at the counter. Chan came back with a smirk on his face and sat down in front of him. “Guess who's here?” He leaned to the side.

Jisung glanced up at the entrance. His heart instantly skipped a beat when he saw the motorcyclist walking into the diner, your helmet removed so he could properly get a good look at your face and the short haircut you sported, stopping on your shoulders as you ran a hand through it to mess it up. You looked absolutely stunning, and his heart raced even faster when he caught your gaze as you looked around the diner, scanning each of the tables for a vacant spot. There was a glimmer of recognition in your eyes, but you made no move towards him. His eyes stayed on your figure, unable to tear them away from you.

His breath caught in his throat as he kept watching you. Every inch of your body is perfect, and he couldn't help but notice how your figure fits your biker apparel. His mind filled with dirty thoughts as he imagined putting his hands on your body, but Jisung shook his head to clear his inappropriate thoughts. Chan was here. He shouldn't be imagining… how it would feel to have you all over him, the smirk on your face as you — Stop Jisung. How the heck did he manage to get himself a boner at the mere thought of a stranger doing sinful things to him?

He kept his gaze on you until you found an empty table and sat down, your back to him. Jisung breathed a heavy sigh and slumped back in his seat, his heart still pounding in his chest. He felt so stupid for staring at you, especially with Chan sitting right in front him. He was sure the brunette noticed the way he was ogling you. He'd never live that down. Maybe all he needed to do was forget about the motorcyclist and your gorgeous body…

A tray of fries and burgers was placed in front of them. Chan gave the waiter a friendly smile before turning back to Jisung, “I have an idea.”

“Hm?” His attention piqued by the hint of mischief in his voice. “What is it?”

“You'll see.” Chan smirked and went up to the table where you were sitting.

“Wait, dude —” Jisung wasn't able to drag his friend's ass back to their table before he settled himself in the chair in front of you. He had absolutely no idea what he was saying but was spilling his guts about how Jisung had the most perverted thoughts, it was going to be the most mortifying thing he was ever going to have to endure. He would have to change his identity, move to Morocco and start a new life as a shawarma stall owner. He was startled out of his life crisis when he saw a pair of leather combat boots next to his table. He sucked in a breath before looking up. You showed no signs of pure disgust — which could be a good thing or it could be a horrible thing.

“Come on then.”

He blinked. “What?”

“I don't have all day.” You looked at him expectantly. Jisung was utterly confused and his eyes darted to Chan, who was gesturing to follow you. He nearly stumbled over his feet twice as he got out of the chair. You didn't say another word, walking out of the diner with your hands stuffed in the pockets of your leather jacket. The air outside was cool, the evening breeze fully settled in, which helped the nervous sweat forming on his forehead. Were you so mad you were going to take him out of the diner and murder him? You twirled a keychain in your hands, leading to the motorcycle he saw you driving earlier. It was a beautiful bike, completely covered in black with bright green accents. “Have you ever been on a bike before?”

Jisung swallowed and shook his head. “Uh, no.” He admitted quietly.

“Your friend was very expressive in your interest towards motorcycles.” What did Chan even tell you? He didn’t know the first thing about motorcycles.

“Ah, yes, he's... he's a bit of a motorhead.” He said, trying to find out exactly what was going on. Then again, he couldn't help but admire your confidence and boldness. He wondered if this is how it would be if the two of you were together (he was one hundred percent delusional at this point), if you would be the dominant one in the relationship... But he shook his head again, trying to keep his dirty thoughts at bay.

“I don't have a spare helmet and mine is too small for you so you're just going to have to risk it.” Risk it? Were you… going to take him for a ride? On your motorcycle? Although he wished for something else to be ridden, this would do for now. Chan was brilliant. He seriously owed his friend one.

“Ah, I see…” He nodded. Your words finally registered in his brain. He was a little nervous about riding a bike without a helmet and the idea of getting on a motorcycle with a complete stranger he’d been blatantly ogling in public also didn't really sit well with him. On the other hand, he was extremely tempted to just say the hell with it and get on the bike with you anyway, because you're so damn sexy and he couldn't stop thinking about how much he wanted you.

“Don't worry pretty boy, I'll get you back to your motorhead friend in one piece.” Jisung blushed at the way you called him pretty boy. He licked his lips unconsciously and then nodded slowly. You got on the bike and turned the engine on. He hesitated for a few moments before getting on behind you. In his defense — he tried to maintain a friendly gap between the two of you. But the smooth leather was against his wishes and he prayed to whatever deity was watching over him that you couldn't notice the hard-on that was pressing against your ass as you pulled out of the parking lot. “I'd hang onto something.” Was the last thing you said before you revved your engine and exited the lot, joining the highway. Jisung held onto your waist with a yelp as you accelerated, his grip tightening with every second.

Jisung's heart started raced, his body pressing even closer against yours from the velocity of the bike. The rush of the speed and the sensation of your warm body against him were making his heart flutter. He didn't know if it was the adrenaline or the fact that he was right up against your back, feeling every inch of your hips with his hands. He gripped you tighter, feeling a thrill go through his body with every revolution of the bike engine.

“You doing okay back there?”

“Mmhm.” Jisung swallowed hard and held you tighter. His breathing was heavy and he felt a little uneasy, but he couldn't pull himself away. The way you kept speeding the bike up made him feel even more alive. This was probably the thrill of the ride that most people talked about. The trees and other vehicles whizzed past as you expertly maneuvered down the highway.

Ten minutes later, he was hugging the ground for dear life. Sure, he enjoyed the ride. Heck, he was certain he'd do it again if given the chance. But he was also certain he nearly lost his life three times consecutively — so he was glad to be on the pavement again.

"You're cute." You chuckled, sitting on the motorcycle as he looked at the ground like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen. “Take your time kissing the dirt. I'm going to go back for my burger.” You hopped off the vehicle and went back into the diner.

Jisung took a few seconds to recollect himself before he jogged into the diner and slid back into his booth. “So, how was it?” Chan asked.

Jisung made a funny noise in his throat and turned his face away from him, embarrassed. “Not sure why you had to set me up with one of the hottest girls I've seen in ages,” he groaned. “I mean, she asked me if I've ever been on a bike before, and I said no. Now I've been on a damn motorcycle with her.”

“You owe me.” Chan pointed a fry at him before popping it into his mouth.

Jisung rolled his eyes but smiled. “Yeah, yeah, I know I do. Just, next time please don't set me up with someone like that. I almost had a heart attack just seeing her, never mind being pressed up against her for ten goddamn minutes.”

“Best ten minutes of your life seeing how you were drooling when you first saw her.”

“Shut up! She’s hot, okay? I couldn't help myself. She's a biker and she's so damn confident. It's so… attractive.” He shrugged, not even trying to deny it.

“Then man up and ask her for her number or her social media, dumbass.”

“I was thinking about it! But she seemed so serious when she first came up to me, and then she did that bossy thing on the bike, and…” He sighed and shook his head. “I'm not sure she'd be interested in me. Do you think I have a chance with a girl like that?”

“You were turned on by a girl bossing you around?” Chan laughed. "Boy, you are down bad. Either you go there and ask her or I will go up to her myself and explain the crush you have on her so I don't have you talk my ear off for weeks.”

“No way, don't you dare!” Jisung glared at him before he shook his head again with an exasperated sigh. He couldn't deny, however, that the thought of being dominated like that by you was arousing as hell. He felt his face heat up with embarrassment just thinking about it. “Come on... She was so bold and direct. You have to admit, it was pretty hot.”

“If she's so hot, go ask her.”

“Ugh, you know what, screw it.” He pushed back his chair and got up, hesitantly walking over to the table where you were sitting.

“Oh, pretty boy. Need something?” You lifted your head up when he stood in front of you, licking the ketchup off your fingers.

Jisung was taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but his mind quickly shifted focus when you were licking the ketchup off your fingers. The sight was so casually sexy that he could feel his pulse speeding up. He blushed and looked away, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, yes. I was uh... I was — um, can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath and then looked back up at you, biting his lip and trying to work up the courage to say what he wanted to say. He decided to just ask you straight up because there wss no way he could try to flirt or impress you. You were too confident and assertive for that. He cleared his throat. “Can I have your Instagram or number or something... in case I want to ask you to go on a date one day? Would that be too forward?”

You chuckled. “I was right. You are cute.” You opened the phone app on your phone and handed it to him.

His heart skipped a beat and he blushed brightly when you called him cute. He took your phone with trembling hands, his face heating up even more from the physical contact with your hands. He punched in his number and gave his phone a missed call before he handed it back to you. “S-so I can just... hit you up whenever I want?”

“Sure." You shrugged. “Does the pretty boy have a name?”

Jisung blushed again when you called him a pretty boy, your confidence and straightforwardness made him feel flustered. “A-ah, yeah, my name's Jisung.”

“Jisung. That's nice." You nodded.

“What about you?”

“Hmm? It's Y/n.” You winked at him. “Now if you'll let me get back to my burger…”

“Oh, sure, yeah. Uh, enjoy your burger.” Jisung stumbled over a chair and sat down next to Chan again.

“That was a long talk for a phone number.” Chan teased.

"Don't make fun of me... I was nervous!" Jisung glared at Chan angrily but couldn't help but blush from embarrassment. “She's pretty bold, y'know? I think that's what makes her so hot.”

“You have weird kinks, my friend.”

“Shut up, it's not a kink! I don't have a kink for women who are — who are — uh…” He trailed off, not wanting to admit how much your dominance and I don’t give a fuck attitude appealed to him. He didn't know why, it shouldn't be so enticing, but you were so confident and the way you carried yourself was so attractive. It made him want to be under your control, to do whatever you asked of him... And to feel your body pressed up against his again.

Holy shit. Was he… a sub?

Jisung's life took a whole one-eighty once you became a part of it. Sure, his initial attraction was a bit sexual — but after knowing you for a few weeks courtesy of your spontaneous bike rides to who knew where at ungodly speeds, he came to the realization that he was down bad. Like six feet under bad. Despite your tough persona, you were sweet. He felt like he was a chipmunk who'd broken open a walnut.

Of course, he was terrified ninety percent of the time. What if you took it too far one day? What if he wasn't there to help you? What if you ended up in the hospital or worse? Your need for speed outgrew all your other needs and he had to come to terms with it.

can rail me🧎‍♂️💞: Hurry up, I'm waiting outside.

Jisung and you had decided for another outing, and he was anxiously pacing in his living room awaiting your reply. His heart pounded when he read your text, getting up quickly and ran to the door, and out of the apartment building before you had even waited a full minute. You could see the impatient excitement in his eyes. Your message had only been one sentence but he took it as you being demanding and impatient, which he found extremely hot. He noticed how beautiful you look when the sunlight hits you just right, illuminating your skin and making your hair shine so bright. He blushed deeply when you noticed him looking, his eyes lingering on your lips. His whole body felt restless and he struggled to keep himself from pulling you close and kissing you. One day, Jisung was going to strangle himself for the way he felt around you, for the way he’d started to jerk off to the thought of you, moaning your name for the whole world to hear as he came again and again in his hands.

“Where are we going today?”

You handed him a helmet, one that he'd been using ever since two weeks ago when he'd managed to convince you to stop driving that carelessly and bought him a helmet — was that an open declaration of love? “It's a surprise.” You got onto your motorcycle. “You coming?” He nodded before he joined you. The feeling of sitting right behind you was never going to get old. “Better hold on pretty boy.” You revved the engine and shot down the roads.

The evening time made everything so much more thrilling. Jisung's face flushed bright red when you called him a pretty boy. Every time you used that name with him, he felt it all the way down to his toes and his body felt like it was being enveloped with warmth. His heartbeat sped up and he leaned forward slightly, resting his hands on your waist so he didn't fly off the back when you drove. He looked into the rear view mirror and couldn't help but admire how you looked as you drove. That look on your face and that attitude... it was sexy as hell.

He loved how you grip the handle tightly, your body confidently holding the bike as it drove through the windy turns of the dark, narrow road. He loved how fast you dorve, how daring and brave you were. It only added to your sexy, dominant presence. He closed his eyes for a second and let his mind be consumed by the adrenaline. He loved how the wind blew over him, how the sound of the engine combined with the wind to created a symphony of excitement and adrenaline, how the bike shook him up every time you went too fast around a turn.

Jisung could feel it happening again. He was getting turned on just by you driving a motorcycle (in his defense, anything you did could elicit a non-child-friendly reaction in him).

After a while, you pulled up into an empty clearing, the top of a small hill that dipped down into a valley of trees, away from the bustling of the highway, overlooking the sky. The sun was setting over the horizon. “Good time?” You asked once you got your helmet off.

“Good time?” Jisung was slightly out of breath. “You mean, other than the fact that you almost gave me several heart attacks while we were driving? Other than the fact that I'd probably have died ten times if I wasn't wearing this helmet? Other than the fact that you drive like you're in a freaking action movie? Yeah, it was a pretty good time.”

“You make it sound like it's a bad thing." You laughed.

“Bad? Bad, is the understatement of the century. It's more like... life threatening.” He smiled and glanced away, not being able to handle the direct eye contact anymore. “You're insane, you know that, right?”

“You don't sound like it bothers you.”

“No, it really doesn't.” Jisung looked up at you, his gaze flickering to your lips. “I think your... uh, way of driving is exciting.” He nodded slightly, trying to distract himself by playing with the straps of the helmet in his hands, fingers tracing over the green streaks contrasting the black of the background. He didn't know how he was going to be able to handle being this close to you and not kissing you all the time. It was making it so much harder, the way you just... teased him and drove him insane with lust…

“Just my driving?”

He sighed and met your gaze again, heart pounding in his chest. When you teased him like that, it pushed him right over the edge. “No,” he answered quietly. “Not just your driving. Everything about you just…” He trailed off, noticing his face was heating up again.

“Just?”

“Everything about you just... it drives me insane. I mean, the way you tease me, the way you look at me, the way you're so confident and so bold... It doesn't just drive me insane, it makes me crazy. You... you push all my buttons, and you don't even know it. You make me wanna kiss you so bad, just so I can know everything about you. Everything about you is so damn attractive, I can barely handle it.”

“You want to kiss me?” Of course that was the one thing you caught in his entire rant. Jisung nodded frantically and couldn't seem to look away from your lips. His mouth felt dry. “Then kiss me, pretty boy.”

He blinked, waiting for you to yell sike. But it never happened. Hesitantly, he leaned forward, one hand reached back and grips the waist of your jeans as he gets closer, getting closer and closer until you guys are nose-to-nose. His heartbeat was so loud that he could barely hear his own thoughts. He hesitated only for one more moment before finally locking his lips onto yours. Jisung melted into the kiss, one arm wrapping around your waist. He leaned forward, pushing you up against the bike as the other hand slid down your back, settling on the small of your rear.

The feeling of being pressed up against you like this was so addictive and he struggled to keep it together as his heart skipped a beat. His tongue ran along your bottom lip, wanting to feel as much of you as possible. Your hands tangled in his hair, your mouth parting slightly. He took that as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. The outside world was slowly fading away, only leaving you two on the yellowy-green grass, pulling each other impossibly close with each second. He felt like he was going to explode.

He only detached his lips from yours to breathe deepily, lungs relishing the fresh air that he took in. He looked at you through half-lidded eyes swimming with desire, only to find you giving him the exact same expression. It was enough to make his dick twitch in his pants, now getting hard against his boxers.

“You're playing with fire, pretty boy.”

“I like playing with fire.” Jisung smiled and leaned in to kiss you again, pushing you up against the bike once more. His dick strained against the confines of his jeans and the way his was practically rutting against your thigh to create that delicious friction almost made him bust right there. Anyone could see the two of you basically humping against each other if they diverted from the highway onto the clearing the two of you were in. You broke the kiss this time.

“Let's get you home." You mumbled and stood up, brushing the grass off of your black pants, face flushed from the intense make out you had with him.

“Yeah... that sounds like a good idea.” Jisung was breathing heavily but he managed to nod his head as he stood up with you. He brushed his hair out of his face and tried to focus his thoughts on the evening ahead. But every time he looked at you, he felt the heat rising up in his cheeks once more and his cock began to throb again. This is going to be a long drive home. He wanted to touch you so badly. He wanted to kiss you again. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and never let go. The feeling of wanting and craving you was overwhelming and he could barely think straight. He couldn't help but feel anxious about what was going on between the two of you. Was this just a fling, or something more? He wanted to believe it would lead to more, but he was also afraid of setting his hopes too high.

“You think so?” Jisung smiled at your compliment as he closed the door and locked it behind him. The sudden thunderstorm outside had halted the bike rude to nowhere, which resulted in him inviting you into his home for the first time. Of course, he spent five minutes tripping over things he didn't even know existed in his two bedroom flat until he was clutching the wall for support — since when the hell did he use a neon yellow yoga mat?

“Mhm. It looks like you.”

“Oh? What's that supposed to mean?”

“Take it however you want, pretty boy.” Jisung chuckled, cheeks reddening as they did every time you used that nickname. “You can sit in the living room. I'll get us something to drink.” He treaded to the kitchen and popped open the refrigerator.

“Better not be Fanta.”

“Come on, that was one time!” You only laughed at his words. “I have coffee and beer and…”

“Fanta?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “And Fanta.”

The two of you settled on coffee. He was thankful you didn't choose beer — who knows what sort of embarrassing shit he might've spilled in a drunken haze? You sat together on his couch, coffee mugs in hand and enjoyed the calming atmosphere, the pattering of the rain against his windows and the smell of coffee beans soothing.

“So... what do you want to do?”

“You.” The words came out without him thinking. He choked on his coffee, eyes watering as he placed the mug on the table and wished a hole would open up and swallow him. Guess he didnt even need the beer.

“You want to do... me?” You chuckled.

He stammered as he tried to explain. “That's not — oh my god, that's not what I meant-”

"I think it is though, isn't it?” Jisung bit his lip and ran a hand through his hair as he looked down. He couldn't help but feel embarrassed, now that you were teasing him about his slip-up. “Then do something about it.”

“Well, I —” He paused when he saw the way the corner of your mouth curled up into a confident smirk. Your eyes glued to him and it felt like you were looking right through him with your eyes. You knew what he wanted. You knew what he was thinking. He leaned towards you, closing the distance. He grabbed your waist, fingering dangerously trailing over the hem of your shirt.

“I hope you know how to use your mouth.” You teased.

“I think I'm pretty damn good.” He mumbled, lips brushing against yours. His eyes fluttered shut as he leaned in and closed the gap. The feeling of your lips on his — oh that was a feeling he'd never get over. Even though he had kissed you only once, the memory of that incident was enough to arouse him whenever he thought of it. He squeezed your waist and pulled you into his lap, not breaking the kiss, earning a breathy moan from you as you sat atop his raging boner. He didn't hesitate to slide his tongue into your mouth, deepening the already seeking kiss. You rolled your hips into his and it was his time to let out a muffled groan, you doing it again and again until he had to hold your hips firmly so he wouldn't bust right there. “God you're driving me crazy.”

“Shirt off.” You tugged at his t-shirt which he readily took out, leaving him bare chested in front of you. You kissed once more as your hands roamed over his shoulders before you began peppering kisses along his jaw until you found a spot at the junction of his neck and collar that made him moan. You nipped at his skin, harsh enough to leave a mark behind. He liked that. He liked being marked by you.

“Your turn.” He helped you slip off your shirt and then your bra, leaving your tips on full display. “Oh baby.” He breathed out, reaching up to hold them in his hands and then wrapped his lips around your hardening nipples. Your back arched into his face, hands tangling in his hair as he sucked on your nipples and fondled the other with his hand. “I could live here forever.” He moved to your other breast, harshly tugging on the buds, eliciting beautiful moans from you. You lifted his face up from your boobs and kissed him, grinding your hips into him once more. The delicious friction made his mind go blank. “Fuck. Baby, I gotta eat you out. Can I eat you out?”

You nodded. He wasted no time, scooping you up and took you to his bedroom and laid you on the bed. His hands rested on the waistband of your jeans, eyes searching yours once more for confirmation. Another nod was all he needed to pull down your pants along with your panties, pussy on full display.

“Fuck… you're dripping.” He spread your legs apart and positioned his face right in front of your dripping cunt. “A fucking feast.” He licked a hesitant stripe before he dove in, relishing the taste of you. His nails dug into your thighs to keep them apart as he lapped up your juices, your moans only driving him more insane. His tongue dove into you before he went up to your clit.

“Jisung — fuck —” Your hands pulled at his hair but the pain only added to his arousal. He prodded his fingers at your hole because sliding one in and then two, pistoning in and out and adding to the mind-blowing pleasure you were already feeling. Whimpers and moans tumbled from your lips, only increasing as he felt you clench around him more and more, making him wonder what his dick would feel like inside you.

“Make a mess f'me baby.” He mumbled against your clit before wrapping his lips around it once more.

“Fuck — J-Jisung, fuck I'm gonna c-cum — fuck —” Your thighs clasped around him, nearly suffocating him (he didn't care obviously), body spamming as you rode out your high. He kept his fingers inside you, feeling your walls clench around the digits. “Holy shit.” You laughed once you came down, breathing heavily as you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him, covering in your juices and looking pretty darn happy about that.

“I could eat you out forever and never get tired of it.”

“As much as I would like that, I'm pretty sure your dick is going to be much better.”

He swallowed, getting up to get a condom and take off his sweatpants before kicking them away. He crawled between your legs, rolling the latex onto his cock before he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Tell me to stop if it hurts, okay?” He pushed the tip in and inched himself slowly despite the fact that he just wanted to ram into like a dog in heat. Your walls were sucking him in and by the time he was fully nestled inside you, he was nearly delirious with the need to cum.

“You can move.” You put your legs around him, linking your ankles so he was impossibly deep.

He nodded, pulling back before snapping his hips forward, and then again and again until he set a even pace, his cock getting milked by your walls. “So tight.” He groaned, balls aching already as he fought the need to cum. He bit his lip, eyebrows taut as he tried to get you closer to your climax as well. “F-Feel good?”

“So good. Amazing.” You moaned. “Fuck. So good. Such a… good boy.” That new nickname made him whimper. He buried his face into your chest to hide his whiny moans. “Gonna cum for me?” He nodded frantically. “Be a good boy. Hold it… just for a little while, okay?” He was panting, hands working on their own as one reached between your legs and found your clit and rubbed harsh circles. Your hands made their way to your breasts and pinched your nipples.

“‘M gonna cum — fuck —”

“Cum for me pretty boy.” The way your walls clenched around him made him moan loudly, whining and groaning as he couldn't hold himself back anymore and came in the condom. You climaxed as well, pussy milking him dry. He slumped against you, still inside as he tried to catch his breath. He pulled out a minute later and threw away the condom, cleaning you up before he joined you on the bed again.

An arm thrown over your body, he pulled you close. “Fuck, I love you.” He mumbled, still in his post-orgasmic haze. He didn't hear your reply, falling into a deep sleep almost instantly.

You were gone.

That was the only sentence running through his mind when he woke up the next morning and you weren't in the bed next to him. You weren't in the bathroom. You weren't in the living room or the kitchen or anywhere. His heart was pounding in his chest, nearly painful as he stumbled about to find you. Did you hate what happened? Did you hate him? Was this all a fucking sick joke to you? He went from concern to anger and back again throughout the day, driving through the city out of his mind with worry. When he didn't find you in your usual places, he knew there wss only one place

The entire day was spent searching, trying to track you down. He texted, called, left voicemails, everything he could think of and you were at that clearing, leaning against your motorcycle with a cigarette in your mouth. Jisung stared at you, still unable to believe you were here in front of him right now. All those emotions that were boiling inside of him a second ago had vanished, their intensity replaced by a simmering anger. He marched over to you stood in front of you, folding his arms. “You could have just told me that last night was a one-time thing, that you weren't interested in more. I would have understood.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don't play stupid.” He scoffed. “I thought this meant more to you…”

“That's rich. Coming from you.”

“The hell do you mean by that?” Jisung glared at you, his anger rising again as he refused to let his feelings be invalidated.

“I saw your stupid text, okay?” You turned away from him, taking a long drag from your cigarette.

He froze. He loved Chan. He truly did. That man meant a lot to him but he knew none of that was an excuse. His friend had texted him whether Jisung had made a move on you and whether you were any good or not.

His heart sank and his stomach dropped with shame as he realized you know exactly what was said. “I-I... that text wasn't meant for you to see.”His voice shook as he tried to defend himself, but he knew he already lost. He could tell from your expression and from how calm you were that you couldn't be anymore indifferent about it. You didn't care that the message was meant to be a joke. In your eyes, it was the truth.

“Clearly.”

“I-It's not what you think.”

“Then what is it, huh?” Jisung sighed, his body sagging a little at your attitude. In the back of his mind, he couldn't completely deny that, at least in the beginning, the thought of having sex with you did have an influence on his actions. However, everything that happened after that — his feelings, his desire to get to know you better, wanting more than just a one-night stand — was... genuine. But he had no idea how to tell you.

“Sit down. You look like you're going to pass out." You moved to the side so he would have place on the grass. He nodded numbly as he sat down next to you. The grass was itchy underneath his palms. He felt a mixture of rage and despair as he watched you casually take another puff of your cigarette. A second later, the cigarette was taken out of your hands. “Hey!” You looked over at him. “Give that back.”

“It's bad for you.” He kept the cigarette away from you.

“Shut up.” You leaned over and tried to get it back, but you lost balance and fell on top of him. He caught you, arms wrapping around your waist so you wouldn't hurt yourself. It was an instinctive reaction that happened before he could even think about it, but when your weight pressed against him, he didn't let you go. His heart beat rapidly as your bodies were pressed together, your legs straddling him and your arms around his torso. You tried to get off but he held you tighter. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing. Let's just stay like this for a little bit longer.” Jisung's words came out as a whisper.

Your body soon relaxed in his hold. “Your friend is a jackass.” You muttered. He chuckled, beginning to stroke your hair as you laid on the grass, limbs entangled with each other. “And… it's not just that. I'm just… not good enough for you Jisung. My addiction to this… driving like a psychopath and smoking… you don't —”

“Don't tell me what's good for me and what's not. I'm not a kid.” He said sternly. “I can do whatever I want and I want you, Y/n. Yes, my initial attraction was physical but it's… so much more than that now. Your addiction? We'll work on it. But I won't let you completely give up riding a motorcycle because you're hella sexy when you do.” You laughed. “You're crazy, but you're mine. I love you Y/n. I think I said this last night… and it's okay if you don't give me an answer right now —”

“I love you too. I've spent too long denying that.” You interrupted him, leaning your head up so you could look him in the eye.

He smiled. “You mean that? Oh baby, I love you so so much.” He pulled you back into his chest and squeezed you. “We'll work on this together, okay?”

“Okay.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Love you, pretty boy.”

“Love you too, pretty girl.”

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#Spotify #stray kids #skz #han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #skz x reader #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung hard thoughts #han jisung hard hours #han x reader #stray kids han smut #stray kids hard thoughts #stray kids han #skz han smut #han skz

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incognit0slut · 5 months

Note

You got me lookin through my music like a mad man! But I wanted to send in a request and say congrats on 3k!!🥳 the song I was hoping to get was “Girls Need Love” by Summer Walker, I was thinkin along the lines of BAU reader just been stressedddd and she just needs to relax and simply let Spencer be a munch🤭

Regardless if you do the request or not, you are an amazing writer and all your works SLAY! Thank you for writing for us!🫶🏾

thank you for the request lovely🤍

Song: girls need love - Summer walker warnings: cunnilingus, semi-public

“…submission, domination, arched back, deep stroke…”

You had never been this stressed before. You could sense the weight of deadlines pressing down on you, the tension mounting with each passing moment, especially when you started to feel that dull ache behind your eyes. You winced at the pain, instinctively reaching up to rub at your temples.

"Hey," a worried voice called beside you. "You okay?"

The concerned voice cut through the haze of your stressed thoughts, and you turned to see Spencer—your coworker, friend, and teammate—walking up to you. Although outside the confines of the office, he was more than just a professional ally. He was your sweet, caring boyfriend who always had a way of observing you even when you both were busy with your assignments.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his concerned gaze. "Hi," you replied, your voice betraying a hint of fatigue. "Just a bit of a headache."

His expression remained skeptical, and he placed a hand on your shoulder. "You sure? You don't look so good."

"It's just work stress, you know how it is." Then your eyes settled on the documents stacked on your desk. "Why is it more stressful doing all these paperworks than actually catching the bad guys?"

He studied you for a moment. As your boyfriend, he had a keen awareness of the subtle shifts in your mood, even amidst the chaos of work. "Let me guess," he said with a frown. "You've been at it for hours."

A sheepish smile played on your lips. "Guilty as charged."

He shook his head disapprovingly but remained silent. The hand on your shoulder pressed your tensed muscle gently and you relaxed into his touch, sighing out a relief. "That... that feels good."

He continued to massage you, his fingers gliding up your shoulder blades. You relished the pressure of his hand on you and you let out another sigh, but this time, it sounded more breathless than you intended to.

You didn't mean to. Maybe it was the way his big hand moved gracefully along your shoulders, kneading into your sore muscles with the right amount of pressure. Maybe it was the way his fingers gently eased out those tough knots twisted on your back, relieving your throbbing headache. Whatever it was, it managed to make you sigh in a satisfaction; a soft, breathless moan slipping out between your parted lips.

It was quiet for a moment between you as the noise hung in the air, your face suddenly going a bright red as you realized how inappropriate it sounded. You shouldn't be making bedroom noises at your workplace with your boyfriend's hands on you, even if the touch was innocent. You quickly shook your head.

"Sorry, I—"

"You know what else would make you feel good?" He suddenly asked. "Make you feel better?"

Your breath hitched as you stared at him, noticing the way he was looking down at you. You knew that look. It was all too familiar. It was the same expression he had whenever you were pressed against him, very much naked, all sweaty and desperate as you begged for him to please you.

"Spence," you pressed, eyes going around the room. Thankfully everyone seemed to be too busy to notice the subtle innuendo. "We're at work."

You felt his thumb gently graze the exposed skin of your neck. "Come on," he muttered, his voice loud enough for you to hear but low enough not to gain attention from others. "You need a break."

Your skin prickled at the weight of his stare. Heat quickly traveled along your body as he assessed you, and you instinctively squeezed your thighs together, feeling that familiar coil between your legs. It was so wrong, and highly inappropriate to even imagine doing something intimate in public, but it was hard to ignore the waves of desire washing over you.

That was how you found yourself nodding your head involuntarily as if you were under a spell.

"Meet me at that unused room down the hallway. Third door to your right," he said, nodding his head toward the secluded area away from the bullpen. "You know where that is, right?"

You silently nodded again and watched as he stepped back, turned on his heel, and disappeared out of the room. Adrenaline rushed into your system as you waited for another five minutes before rising from your seat, trying to act as nonchalant as possible.

You casually greeted people as you passed by. You even weaved yourself from a frantic Penelope trying to find her glasses, escaped from Hotch who wanted to know how your report was going, and freed yourself from Rossi who suggested another cookout at his place this weekend.

You quickened your steps when you finally stepped into the hallway, your eyes piercing on a specific door. You looked around to check if the coast was clear before pushing it, taking a hesitant step forward—only for an arm to circle your waist, pulling you inside as you heard the door clicking softly behind you.

"Spence, we shouldn't—"

"Shh," he whispered. "Let me help you relax."

You looked up at him looming over you. In a haze of uncertainty, you found yourself drawn in by the glimmer in his eyes, the reassuring smile on his lips, and the unwavering focus of his gaze. The familiar scent of his soap enveloped you, pulling you closer to him. Close enough to feel the warmth of his breath, close enough to lose yourself in the depth of his gaze. And then, almost like an instinct, your lips finally met his.

As you tasted him, you felt your worries start to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his hands gripping your waist. He held you in place as he explored your mouth with his tongue, and you melted right in his arms, giving everything he asked for.

A whimper escaped your lips as his kisses descended from your mouth, tracing a path along your jaw until they rested against the delicate skin of your neck.

Your body froze for a while. There was a split-second realization of the risk of being caught, but it was swiftly drowned out by the overwhelming ache of desire coursing through your body. Fingers trembling, you tightened your grip on him, and your heart quickened its pace.

"Come here," he urged you, grabbing you by the hand before placing you at the center of the room. Your senses finally came together as your eyes scanned the place. An empty, unoccupied room with nothing but empty boxes and a worn-out desk shoved against the wall. You focused your attention back to him when you felt his fingers move over your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your panties.

"I can't believe we're doing this," you murmured, your mind turning hazy when you felt the cold air hit your skin. "Did you lock the door?"

A low chuckle escaped him. "Yes," he assured you before pressing his lips on yours again. "Now stop thinking so much."

His hands grabbed onto your waist before he lifted you, placing you on the desk almost forcefully, earning a squeal from you.

"Slow down!" You half whispered, half screamed.

"Can't," he began, fingers gripping your thighs. "I can't leave my girlfriend all stressed out."

The fear of getting caught still weighed on your mind, but with your throbbing pussy dripping in anticipation, the worries diminished faster than they could build. You clutched onto his shoulders when you felt him pushing your legs apart.

“Spread your legs, baby.” His deep, needy voice sent a surge of warmth straight between your thighs. An ache settled in your core, feeling his lips back on your body once again for a moment between words. “Let me taste you.”

Another surge of heat made you tremble from the dark desire in his voice. You finally caved in, following his instructions with an eager whimper. You part your thighs, putting your dripping cunt on display for him as he gently laid you across the desk.

His eyes couldn’t help but rest on the sight before him, taking note of your swollen, aroused lips and how wet you already were. It didn't take long for him to sink on his knees, settling between the warmth between your legs.

The minute his tongue touched you, you were already a whining mess. Your head began to spin, pleasure taking over your body as he teased up and down your slit, dipping inside of your dripping entrance for a moment before returning to tease your swollen, aching clit.

His hands wrapped around your thighs while his tongue continued to explore you. You bucked your hips closer to him, your hands frantically searching for something to anchor yourself before you buried them in his thick hair. When he sucked onto your clit hungrily, you tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

The sensation filled your body until you were whimpering for more. “Please...”

The urgency in your tone mixed with the breathless way you begged him earned a hand between your thighs, positioning a finger at your entrance. Then he slowly pushed his finger, sending your head tilting back with a gasp, legs tightening around him. You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words as he pushed another finger into you, and you tugged on his hair with desperation.

Spencer smiled across your wet skin. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He loved the taste of you, your juices against his tongue, painting his skin with your pleasure. He loved getting to finally please you. He loved hearing the sinful sound you make, the breathless moans coming out of your lips caused by him.

He loved the way your legs shook around his head, your hips bucking closer towards his mouth as you sought for more. He also loved how tight you held the strands of his hair between your fingers.

He loved it all, making it clear as his tongue sped up, circling your clit even faster as he thrust his two fingers deeper inside your soaked, clenched walls.

“Please,” you cried out. "I-I'm so close."

All he could do was groan against your flesh. With a few more thrusts of his fingers and a few more laps around your clit, you were finally reaching your high, feeling the warmth form between your legs.

Your back arched off the desk while you gripped his hair even tighter. You called out his name, again and again between desperate moans and whimpers, legs tightening around his head as you rode out the bliss until the wave of pleasure washed over you, causing you to grow weak.

But he didn’t pull away, continuing to gather up every drop of your slick essence, overwhelming you further as he curled his fingers deeper inside you. You wailed, moaning him to stop as he kept on pushing your limits.

His touches persisted until the sensations became almost overwhelmingly intense, leaving you far too sensitive for any further stimulation. You were out of breath. Your body felt weak. You also felt a heady mixture of euphoria and exhaustion as you gently pushed him away.

You gasped, slowly breathing in and out as you finally peeked over at him, noticing him standing at his full height as he wiped away the remnants of your orgasm on his mouth.

“Do you feel better now?” He chuckled in a hushed tone, leaning forward to pull into a sitting position. All you could do was grin happily and nod your head.

"Yeah," you admitted with a soft laugh. "Thanks to you."

But as you got off the desk, attempting to stand on weak legs, you stumbled forward, and his hand shot up instinctively to steady you. You let out a groan. "I might not have a migraine anymore but apparently you lost my ability to walk."

His eyes sparkled with amusement. "Do you want me to carry you?"

"And create a commotion?" You considered the suggestion with a mock-serious expression. "I think I'll pass."

But as you both came back into the bullpen, your face flushed and his hair sticking out in different directions, it was inevitable that a commotion would take place. Especially when Morgan watched the two of you with clear amusement while Emily wrinkled her nose, assessing you both with judgmental eyes. "This place needs to be sterilized now."

You feigned innocence, rushing back to your desk as heat crept up your face, hoping your unit chief wouldn't hear anything about your reckless rendezvous.

a/n: I don't think I'll be tagging people in these answers unless it's a longer fic like my usual one-shots.

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction

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sansaorgana · 21 days

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Gale x reader, where she works at the 100 and gale thinks she comes from nothing and a hardwarding woman and he finds that attractive but then finds out she’s really from a rich wealthy family and he kinda feels betrayed in a sense

hello! 😊 thank you for your request, I loved it so much and it made me think of a Downton Abbey inspired scenario (just a little) 🥰 I wanted Buck and The Reader to have a happy ending no matter what, though, so I kinda lost control and wrote almost 6k words of this fic 🙈 long live the drama!!! 👑

reqests for buck and feyd are open btw 😇

Out of all the women working at the base, Buck Cleven liked (Y/N) the most. She was a local, British woman helping with the papers in the archives. Most people didn’t know a lot about (Y/N). She was a mystery and rarely talked about herself but Buck loved how eloquently she sounded and how well-read she was.

She was helping him to fill the papers for the Colonel and they quickly befriended each other. There was something about him that made her open up a little. They started to take walks in the evenings around the base and talk about their lives.

“Where are you from?” He asked her. “Somewhere around?”

“Yes,” she nodded and looked away quickly.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Buck assured her. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine,” she shrugged her arms, visibly uneasy. “What do you want to know?”

“Your parents…?” Buck took her hand gently and she smiled, allowing him to hold her fingers like that.

“They’re both alive if that’s what you’re asking. My father is…” she was looking for the right word, “...managing some land. We are not close, though.”

“So, he’s a farmer?” Buck raised an eyebrow.

“I guess you can call him that,” she nodded shyly and bit on her lower lip.

“How do you know how to use a typewriter and all those books you’re talking about?” Buck chuckled softly.

“Oh, so farmer girls can’t be intelligent?” She asked, playfully. “I’ve been working hard to get out,” she assured him.

“I know what it’s like. But I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for a woman. I admire you,” he nodded and leaned in to place a soft kiss upon her lips, taking her breath away.

She was confident, good at her job, intelligent, witty and to him she quickly became the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He would smile any time he saw her walking by and he would call her a farmer girl, to which she’d reply pilot boy. (Y/N) reminded him of his mother. The way she had come from nothing and worked hard to prove her worth, the way she was so soft-spoken, so elegant in the way she moved despite her harsh upbringing. She felt like home to him. Buck Cleven gave her heart and soul. He was already thinking of proposing to her after finishing his twenty fifth mission. He didn’t want to ask her anything of that sort too early. He didn’t want to ask her to marry him and then die. No, he had to wait.

But other things did not wait. He was a gentleman and she was a proper lady but since he could go down any day, they just allowed the heated moment to take them one of the nights in her small office next to the Colonel’s one. It didn’t feel wrong at all. It was no sin to love and be loved. Buck could already imagine them growing old together and raising their children. He would take her home with him or he would stay in the United Kingdom. For her he would.

And then, a week after giving each other a physical proof of their love, an expensive looking black Rolls-Royce parked in front of the base. Buck was there, too, talking to Harry Crosby, as they both observed an elegant driver leaving the car and looking around, visibly lost.

“Excuse me,” the man approached them. “I’m looking for Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” he explained. “I do believe she happens to work here.”

“You’re looking for (Y/N)?” Harry furrowed his brows and scratched behind his head. “I’ll go for her,” he nodded and went inside the building.

Buck was left alone with the stiff and elegant driver.

“How do you know (Y/N)?” He asked him and the man blushed uncomfortably.

“I’ve been working for Lady (Y/L/N)’s family for ten years now,” the man answered.

Buck was confused. He had no idea that farmers in the United Kingdom could afford their own limousines and drivers.

“Tommy!” (Y/N) ran out of the building and the man straightened himself at the sight of her. “What are you doing here?!” She snapped at him angrily as everyone around started to watch the scene curiously. Buck had never seen her snapping at someone for no reason this way.

She would get angry when someone was lazy with filling the papers but even then her annoyance had some smooth and elegant undertone. But the way she treated the driver was signalising a different sort of dynamic between them two. He cleared his throat and looked down like a child scolded by his mother.

“Lady (Y/L/N), do forgive me… but I bring urgent news from Rosefield Hall,” the driver told her and handed her a letter from the inside pocket of his jacket. “It is about the Earl of Peterborough’s health,” he added.

(Y/N) grabbed the letter and opened it nervously. She gasped as she read it and her hands began to shake.

“I must… I must go home…” She whispered and handed the letter back to the driver before running to the building where the sleeping quarters for women were.

Buck followed her, demanding answers, as his heart was already stinging in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to know some of these things but he had to.

“What is going on, (Y/N)?” He asked as she was packing her things chaotically into a suitcase.

“My grandfather is dying, I must see him,” she explained nervously.

Her grandfather…? The only man whose health had been mentioned was some Earl of Peterborough.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Buck took a deep breath in. “But what’s going on with that driver? The Rolls-Royce? Rosefield Hall? Why is that man calling you a Lady? Who's the Earl of Peterborough?”

(Y/N) froze for a second with one of her blouses in her hands as she was about to throw it carelessly into the suitcase. She looked up into his eyes and Buck Cleven did not recognise his girl at that moment.

There was something different about her. Something cold and unreachable. Something posh. Her glance could kill and he would rather face the Luftwaffe missiles than her eyes.

“The Earl of Peterborough is my grandfather. Rosefield Hall is my home. I’m Lady (Y/N) (Y/L/N) of Rosefield Hall,” she informed him and he took a step back, furrowing his brows. “What? You’re really surprised, Major? Did you really expect a farmer girl to know Kant or quote you Charlotte Brontë? I’m rather surprised that you know them,” she pointed out.

Buck didn’t say anything at first as his mouth opened slightly and blood in his veins ran cold.

“So, you lied,” he whispered, feeling his heart shattering into a million pieces.

“No. I have never called myself a farmer girl. You’ve been calling me that,” she shrugged her arms.

“I don’t understand…” He shook his head. “Why couldn’t you just tell the truth?”

“Because I didn’t want to be treated differently,” she threw the blouse inside the suitcase angrily and went back to grabbing other things. “I didn’t want to be teased by a bunch of Americans for being a Lady. I wanted to blend in.”

That part was understandable for Buck and it was making him feel better, too, to know that she didn’t want to use her titles for getting special treatment.

“But why did you lie to me when we were alone? I wouldn’t tell anyone…” His voice shivered and he hated himself for letting her see how weak he had become for her. He hadn’t minded showing emotions in front of her before but now it suddenly started to feel too exposing and too humiliating.

“I didn’t lie because I was scared you would tell. I know you would not, Buck,” she shook her head and looked into his eyes again, attacking him with one final blow of the coldness of her gaze. “I gave you what you wanted, Cleven. You wanted me to be a determined working class little mouse that you’d offer a better life one day. And I lied because…” She hesitated as she bit on her lower lip. “Because I wanted you to like me,” she admitted casually and closed the suitcase.

Buck was petrified as he watched her. She lifted up the suitcase and that was when he hurried to her side.

“Let me help you, Lady (Y/N),” he tried to make a joke to release the tension, still too shocked to process the situation properly.

“You don’t have to call me a Lady, Buck,” she informed him. “And the suitcase is light.”

“Don’t have to?” Buck stood still as he watched her walk out the door. “Well, thank you very much for being so merciful and allowing me to ditch the title while I’m addressing you,” he clenched his jaw. She furrowed her brows at him.

“Oh, Buck, that’s exactly why I was lying, can’t you see? But I wasn’t lying about everything, I can assure you of that. It wasn’t a bored rich girl’s game. I will contact you soon, I promise,” she gave him the last, beautiful smile and walked out of the room.

Buck kept watching through the window. The people from the base were gathered around, pointing fingers at her. She approached the Colonel and explained some things to him as he nodded. He had to be the only person who knew her secret. The driver put the suitcase in the Rolls-Royce’s trunk and opened the door for her. She looked around, probably searching for Buck’s face amongst the curious crowd but he wasn’t there. So she sat inside and they drove away.

Buck didn’t know if she had tried to contact him or not like she had promised because he went down a week later.

One and a half year later he was back and everything felt so odd and out of place when he was going through his old things. One of them was a black and white picture of (Y/N). He took it in his hands and caressed it gently.

After everything he had been through in Germany, he was a different person now. He forgave her as he didn’t want to hold any resentment in his heart. And the memory of her – even if it hadn’t been the real her – had been keeping him alive on the cold and scary nights. A tiny hope to perhaps be able to see her again and explain a few things.

“You’re still thinking of her?” Rosie asked, awkwardly and Buck nodded.

“Sometimes,” he lied. It was way more often than sometimes.

“Actually, she did send you a letter,” Harry told him. “I have it in my office, unopened. It came two weeks after you had gone down. I wrote to her that you had been captured by the Germans when we found out but I never got the reply. Do you want her letter?”

“Yes,” Buck nodded. “You could send it to the camp through the Red Cross.”

“I could have but there was no guarantee you’d get it. They’d most likely lose it,” Harry told him and left the room to go to his office.

“Did she ever come back here?” Buck asked Rosie and his friend shook his head while pursing his lips.

“No, I’m sorry.”

Buck nodded, waiting in silence for Harry to be back with the letter. Thankfully, he was quick.

“Here it is,” he handed Buck the envelope and sat back on the edge of the bed.

The envelope was elegant and there was a picture of the family crest on it. Buck felt uncomfortable opening it but on the other hand, such a long time had passed that whatever was inside, was most likely no longer accurate anyway. The past couldn’t hurt him because it was unchangeable now.

Dear Gale, my pilot boy, My grandfather passed away two weeks ago. I was close with him, therefore it is a great loss for me to grieve after. I know I have promised to contact you and possibly explain everything but there is an urgent matter I have to discuss with you first. I fainted in the church during the funeral. It was not a big deal and I did not make any fuss about it but my doctor insisted on taking blood tests to make sure I was okay. Yesterday I had an appointment with him and he told me I was expecting. You can only imagine what a shock that was for me. He promised me he would not inform my father for now, until I contact you. But he is my father’s close friend and I do not trust him. You see, I was not lying when I said I was not close with my father. I know he will not be pleased with my pregnancy. I am scared. Can you please come to visit me? My parents were opposed to the idea of me working for the military so they will not allow me to leave again, especially in the time of grieving. My darling, there is not a day going by without me missing you and regretting the way I treated you. The things I said, I wish with all my heart that I could take them back. I kept lying to you for so long but please, do know, I have never lied when I said “I love you”. I do not expect anything from you – I do not even expect you to take responsibility for this child. And I know it is a complicated situation since we are from very different families and different countries but please, I need you to come here as I have to discuss this matter with you face to face. Yours, forever yours and only yours, (Y/N)

When he finished reading the letter, his hands were uncontrollably shaking. He checked the date of the letter – 20th of October 1943. It was the summer of 1945 already and he had left her with no reply all this time.

If the child had been born in the meantime, they would be one year old by now.

Buck stood up so rapidly that he got dizzy for a moment.

“What happened?” Rosie looked up, worryingly.

“I need to… I need to borrow a car,” Buck told him. “I have to go to that Rosefield Hall. Immediately,” he explained.

“But why?”

“I… I can’t… I will tell you when I’m back,” it felt difficult to say all these things out loud. He was anxious about what had happened to (Y/N) and their child and he was in a state of shock after finding out about the child in general. The way she had apologised and assured him of her love had also brought him a deep comfort and relief. He had to see her and he could only hope it wouldn’t be too late.

Harry nodded, realising that it was something important and he respected his friend’s decision not to share the details yet. He ran out of the building to talk to the Colonel about the possibility of using one of the military cars from the base.

Ten minutes later, Buck was already behind the wheel, studying the map on his lap with Rosie leaning on the car and peeking inside through the window.

“Rosefield Hall, here it is,” he found it and pointed with his finger. “About an hour away from here.”

“I can make it in 40 minutes,” Buck said.

“Man, be careful. 20 minutes won’t save you after such a long time,” Rosie furrowed his brows. He didn’t like the state his friend was in. “Listen, I’ll go with you,” he proposed. “You’re out of your mind.”

Buck tried to protest but he gave up seeing Rosie already sitting on the passenger seat. He sighed and started the engine. On their way to Rosefield Hall, he opened up to his friend and told him about everything. Rosie’s eyes were widened throughout the whole ride.

“It’s like straight out of the movies,” Rosie commented.

“Thank you very much for cinematography of this sort,” Buck shook his head.

“Man, what are you even worried about? I mean, she’s some rich lady, what could have happened?” Rosie asked.

“What if she got rid of the baby? What if she’s married now? What if she died? Or the baby died? And I missed all of this?” Buck swallowed thickly.

“None of it would be your fault,” Rosie pointed out and then he gasped at the field they were approaching. “Look! Aren’t those roses?”

“Yes, they are. It’s a rose field,” Buck nodded. “Which means the house must be nearby.”

“You call that a house?” Rosie whistled at the sight of the mansion in the distance. “It’s a fucking palace.”

Buck didn’t say anything. Seeing a place where (Y/N) had been raised made him feel uncomfortable when he compared it in his head to his home back in the USA. He felt like a beggar on the street, knocking to get the first warm meal in a week when he parked the car on the driveway with a small fountain.

“Wait in the car,” he told Rosie and jumped out of the vehicle.

He was approaching the doors when they opened on their own and a grumpy butler walked out with a surprised face.

“Excuse me, sir, are you lost?” He asked.

“Is it Rosefield Hall?” Buck asked to make sure.

“Yes, indeed it is,” the butler looked him up and down.

“I need to see (Y/N),” Buck explained nervously and the man furrowed his brow. “I mean, Lady (Y/N)...”

“Who are you, sir?” The butler remained suspicious.

“Major Gale Cleven from The 100th Bomb Group,” Buck took the cap of his uniform off and squeezed it in his hands.

“Cleven… Cleven… Oh!” The butler’s eyes widened. “Come inside, Major,” he finally invited Buck inside the mansion. “You are lucky, Major, because the Earl is in London today and only the lady of the house is present. Please, do follow me, I will inform her,” the butler nodded at Buck and led him through the beautifully decorated corridors to one of the living rooms. “Please, wait here, Major,” the butler bowed his head down and left Buck alone inside.

Buck looked around nervously. The place looked like a movie set indeed. Perhaps there was some truth to Rosie’s words. He glanced at the framed pictures on the piano and the fireplace but none of the pictures was of his (Y/N).

The doors opened again and a dignified middle aged woman walked inside as the butler announced her.

“Countess of Peterborough.”

Buck bowed his head down, not knowing what to do. She laughed softly at that and approached him to grab his arms.

“Please, tell me you’re that American Major who got my girl in trouble,” she pleaded but there was no anger in her eyes, only hope.

“I believe I am, my lady,” Buck swallowed thickly. “Where is she? Can I see her?”

The Countess smiled sadly at him and pointed at one of the sofas. They both sat there and faced each other as if they were whispering big secrets between each other.

“What took you so long?” The Countess asked with pain in her voice.

“I was a captive in Germany for over a year. I’m back in the United Kingdom for a few hours, really,” he explained nervously. He had a very bad feeling about his (Y/N). The way her mother was so sad while talking about her, the way there were no pictures of her around… “Please, tell me she married someone else,” he mumbled out and The Countess furrowed her brows. “Just don’t tell me she’s… She’s dead.”

“Not dead, no,” The Countess explained and he sighed with relief. “My husband was furious when he found out about her pregnancy. She refused to get rid of your child, she claimed that she loved you,” The Countess broke yet another sad smile and Buck’s heart started to pound in his chest. “I tried to change his mind but my husband is a… stubborn man…” She swallowed thickly and looked down, uncomfortably. “He disinherited her and threw her out. I sometimes visit her, I’m trying to keep in touch and help her financially in secret… Oh, Major, please…” She looked up again into his widened and terrified eyes as she tugged on the sleeves of his uniform. “Please, get her out of that place and help her. You have a son, a baby boy. He’s a year old now and such a beautiful child. They both deserve so much better. She’s there because she chose you, she loves you… Please, help her,” The Countess sobbed.

“Excuse me, my lady… She is… where?” Buck asked, nervously.

“Convent Home for Unmarried Mothers,” The Countess explained. “Oh, Major, it is a dreadful place! My girl is slowly dying there, it’s so painful to watch. There is absolutely no joy and fighting spirit left in her anymore.”

Buck felt a stinging pain in his heart when he remembered his (Y/N) with her red lips and a wide smile, her sparkling eyes and her neatly combed hair. He couldn’t imagine her in a place like this.

“How could you let that happen?” He asked her mother, not holding back the anger of his voice.

“It works differently for people like us,” The Countess explained. “In many ways we are still in the XIXth century,” she added. “But I’m so glad you’re here, it gives me hope… Please, tell me you are here to take the responsibility.”

“Of course,” Buck straightened himself. He was a man of honour. “Just give me the address of that convent,” he told her and she smiled through the tears and stood up to grab a piece of paper and a pen to write down the address.

“By the way,” The Countess sniffled her tears back, “when you’ll be asking for her, don’t ask for (Y/N) (Y/L/N). My husband forbade her to go there under her real surname so she had to choose a new one for herself.”

“And what is it?” Buck stood up to get the papernote from her.

“What do you think?” The Countess smiled at him softly. He had a feeling but didn’t want to make an idiot out of himself by saying it out loud so he remained silent and allowed her to answer the question on her own. “She goes by (Y/N) Cleven there,” she explained. “That’s how I knew it had to be you when the butler told me who was waiting for me downstairs. Because (Y/N) has never told me anything. She kept you as a secret in her heart. She was always a stubborn girl, a family rebel of some sort. So desperately she wanted to get out of here, to be away from her father – for which I can’t blame her, he’s a difficult man – that’s why she signed up to help in the military,” her mother explained. “I know, though, what she has told me. That there were misunderstandings between you two, some sort of argument and she regretted deeply for the way she had treated you. Please, do forgive her. She loves you so deeply, like I’ve never seen any woman of our sort to ever love a man. A rebel, as I’ve said.”

Buck’s head was spinning. He was glad for Rosie waiting inside the car because he wouldn’t be able to drive anymore. He only nodded at The Countess and hurried outside, not even waiting for the butler to open any doors for him.

He knocked upon the window and showed Rosie with his hand to get out of the car.

“What’s going on?” Rosie asked and Buck handed him the paper note with the address.

“Take me there. I can’t drive,” Buck looked down at his shaking hands. Rosie only nodded and they switched the seats.

The convent was another hour away. This time they were both sitting in the car in complete silence.

“Do you think I can just take her like that?” Buck finally asked when they were getting near. The sun was slowly setting in the sky with a beautiful orange hue.

“It’s XXth century, Buck, I’m sure she can just walk out of there any time she wants,” Rosie tried to cheer him up. “But where will you take her? Do you think the Colonel will let her stay with us at the base?”

“I will worry about that later,” Buck told him. “I want to get her out there first,” he explained and placed his hand on his chest as if this gesture would calm down his pounding heart when Rosie parked the car in front of the convent home. It looked like a scary and unpleasant place from the outside.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Rosie asked, worryingly.

“No. Wait here,” Buck nodded at him and walked out to hurry inside the building.

“Excuse me, sir, we are closed. You can come back tomorrow after nine am,” the nun sitting by the desk in the reception room told him.

“With all respect, I won’t wait until tomorrow,” Buck approached her and she looked up, scared. “I don’t want trouble,” he explained quickly. “I’m a pilot from The 100th Bomb Group in Thorpe Abbott, Norfolk,” he introduced himself and she nodded her head. “For the past year and a half I’ve been a captive in Germany,” he added and her eyes saddened. “I came back today only to find out that my child and his mother are here. Please, I want to see them.”

“Well, I think we can make an exception for you, sir,” the nun had lots of sympathy in her voice. “Let me ask the Reverend Mother,” she stood up and Buck nodded. “Please, wait here.”

So he waited, nervously squeezing his cap in his hands and looking around at the religious images on the walls. Finally, the doors opened and an elderly woman entered. She looked less nice than the previous one.

“Sister Cecila has told me your story, Major. I am willing to make an exception because of your bravery and service, sir,” she said and Buck sighed out of relief, giving her a nervous smile. “What is your name, Major?”

“Gale Cleven, sister,” he answered and she furrowed her brows.

“Ah…” She hummed to herself. “I know who you want to see then… Follow me,” she ordered and he nodded before walking out of the room after her.

She led him through a maze of cold corridors into the staircase and then upstairs to the living quarters. They were in a renovated part of the building but it was not very pleasant either. Buck felt a chill go down his spine at the sight and when he imagined (Y/N) and their son in a place like that.

“She was sent here by her father with no savings at all. Her mother sometimes sends us money for new clothes and toys but Miss (Y/N) is not interested in getting anything for herself anyway,” the nun explained. “She only cares about her son. She named him Winston.”

“It’s my middle name,” Buck told her as his heart filled with so much love for his son already at the sound of his name.

“I see,” the woman nodded her head and stopped in front of one of the doors as she searched for the right key on her keychain.

“Why is she being locked up?” Buck furrowed his brows and the nun gave him a scolding look.

“Do you think we let those harlots run around freely at night so they come back pregnant with even more mouths to feed?” She asked, accusingly.

Buck’s jaw clenched, trying very hard not to react in any way to her awful words.

She opened the door and then she pushed them open aggressively without knocking first. Buck’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of a small and neat room that was almost not decorated at all. (Y/N) was sitting on her bed with a little boy in her arms and reading a book to him, her finger was pointing at something on one of the pages but they both got startled by the nun entering the room rapidly.

“You have a guest, Cleven,” the nun told her coldly and stepped back for Buck to walk in awkwardly.

(Y/N) gasped at the sight of him as she dropped the book down on the bed. Her little boy, unaware of anything, reached out his little hands to grab the edges of it as he giggled.

“G-Gale…” (Y/N) left the boy on the bed and ran up to Buck.

He felt tears forming in his eyes at the sight of her. She looked like a shadow of her old self. But it was still her. His (Y/N) that he had been dreaming of for all these months in Germany.

“I thought I would never see you again… I got the letter from Harry, that you were a captive. But I didn’t expect you to come back for me…” She sobbed.

“I came back this morning and have been looking for you ever since,” he put his hands on her arms to calm her down. “Here, come to me,” he pulled her to his chest to hug her and she twisted the fabric of his uniform in her fist as she hid her face in it. The nun squinted her eyes at them. “Can you leave us alone, sister?” Buck asked her.

“It is out of the question!” She protested.

“I’m taking (Y/N) and our son away from here tonight anyway. Get out,” Buck snapped and she made an offended face before walking out.

“You… You really mean that?” (Y/N) looked up and Buck caressed her wet cheeks. Her eyes were so hollow now, her lips dry and shivering. “After everything I have done to you…? You still want me?”

“I have forgotten already,” Buck smiled sadly at her. “I only remember how much I love you.”

(Y/N) sobbed once again and threw her hands around his neck.

“I will take care of you,” Buck promised and rubbed her back. He laid his eyes on his son who was sitting on his mother’s bed and playing with the book in his tiny hands but he was curiously looking up as well. “Will you introduce us?” He asked, nervously and (Y/N) took a step back and nodded, wiping her cheeks with the palms of her hands.

“Winston, baby, come to mummy,” she picked the boy up and he whined as he dropped the book. “Look, this is your daddy,” she approached Buck again as the boy widened his eyes. She kissed her son’s temple and handed the boy to Buck.

He held his son delicately and stared back into his eyes, feeling so much love and affection filling his heart that he was sure it would burst and explode any given moment. Little boy reached his hands out and caressed the scars on his father’s face. Buck felt the fresh tears streaming down his face.

“He’s so full of kindness,” (Y/N) explained in a whisper. “Just like you.”

“Pack your things, I want you out of here as soon as possible,” Buck told her and she nodded.

He kept staring in awe at his boy and allowed his little hands to caress his face curiously, giggling occasionally. In the meantime, (Y/N) was packing an old worn-out suitcase. Buck noticed that she was mostly packing Winston’s things and not her own. It made him sad to see her in such a state but it also filled his heart with even more love for her when he realised how much she loved their boy and how much she sacrificed for him. For all of that, he would now give her everything and she didn’t have to worry about anything anymore.

When she packed the suitcase, she nodded at him and they both walked out of the room where the angry nun had been still standing.

“So, you’re just going to walk out like that? In the middle of the night?” She asked (Y/N).

“I’m not a prisoner here, Sister Bertha,” (Y/N) reminded her. “And it’s barely eight pm.”

“And where will you even go?” The nun followed them nervously to the staircase.

“As far away from here as I can,” (Y/N) only told her and shrugged her arms.

The nun didn’t follow them downstairs. Buck and (Y/N) left the convent after saying goodnight to Sister Cecile sitting in the reception room. At the sight of them, Rosie jumped out of the car with a wide smile.

“Rosie!” (Y/N) ran up to him and hugged him.

“(Y/N)!” He picked her up to spin her around as she dropped her suitcase. “I’m so happy to see you again, we’ve all been wondering about you!” He put her down on the ground and he laid his eyes on the little boy in Buck’s arms. “And that must be your boy?”

“His name is Winston,” Buck told him with pride and Rosie winked at the baby boy who giggled in return.

“Let’s go back now, eh?” Buck told him and Rosie nodded. He picked the suitcase up and packed it inside the trunk.

Buck and (Y/N) both took the backseats with little Winston sitting on Buck’s lap. Their pinky fingers were touching delicately on the seat.

“I have only one question,” Buck looked at her softly when the boy fell asleep in his arms.

“Yes?” She turned her head around to look at him, too.

“Why didn’t you get out of there to find a job somewhere? You can use a typewriter and you’re well-read.”

“I didn’t have savings to get out like this. I was bringing this idea up to my mother but if she gave me more money, my father would realise. He is very controlling. I didn’t want her to be exposed to his anger because of me. And I… I just gave up, to be honest. My life didn’t seem to have any prospects anyway,” she admitted sadly. “There was no future for me.”

“There is a future for you,” Buck assured her and held her hand to squeeze it lightly. “Long and bright. I will give it to you.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #gale cleven x reader #austin butler x reader

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hellsburners · 8 months

Text

best mistake

summary: you're new york's hero: spider-man. your roommate peter is the brains behind it all and the love of your life and he doesn't even know it. pairing: tasm!peter parker x male reader word count: 1.6k warnings: unprotected s3x, blowjobs, casual hooking up. a/n: i'm back? (based on this amazing prompt)

masterlist | more peter parker

Peter hears a loud thud from his window. It was dark outside, the clock on his desk reading past midnight, the city more quiet.

He peers on the glass, a dark figure resting its head on the pane. He gently lifts the window, your body slumping on his arms, your face bruised and bloody. He carries you to the bed, your suit all tattered and dirtied. Peter runs to the bathroom to get a basin of warm water and a towel.

He takes his time to wipe the blood from your face, gently wiping it on your soft skin, and brushing your hair away from your face. His eyes wander to your face, a familiar one, a face he’s seen ever since he was a kid, but now much older.

He takes the medical kit under his bed, gently moving you so he can remove your ruined suit. His calloused skater hands brush your chest with the damp cloth, scrubbing away the dried blood crusting your wounds. He applied a salve on some of the cuts to prevent infection, the bigger gashes he stitched.

The two of you have been doing this for eight years now. You, the web-slinger, protector of the city, while Peter, the brains behind your crusade. He came up with the idea of making the web-shooters, his bio-engineer degree with your experience as a research scientist in aerophysics helped hand-in-hand in keeping the city safe.

You turned in your sleep, groaning from the pain. “Hey, easy up tiger your wounds are still fresh,” he said, helping you prop yourself up on his bed.

“How long have I passed out?” you said, noticing your suit was pulled down to your waist.

“Just a couple of minutes,” he said. “Saw you on the TV.”

“Yeah, that Electro guy short-circuited my web-shooters,”

“About that, I sketched up a new prototype that could be resistant to his attacks,” he said, gesturing at his messy table with his new creation. “I also made some tweaks on the web fluid, I increased the tensile strength so they can withstand greater velocities.”

Peter’s eyes glimmered as he talked about the new shooters. Your mouth lifted into a smile as he continued to ramble. “What do you think?” he said, “Did you even listen?”

“Yeah—increased tensile strength blah blah,” you uttered. “How’s the job hunt by the way?”

“Terrible. I did sell some pictures to the bugle,” he said. “Jameson gave me $350.”

“$350? That’s not even enough for groceries and the electricity bill.”

“Well it’s better than nothing,” he said, taking his glasses off. “I saw Gwen earlier.”

Oh. Peter’s high school ex. You diverted your gaze away from his, finding the city lights outside the window was a distraction. You felt your chest tighten, your heartbeat much louder.

For the fifteen years you’ve known Peter Parker, you’ve also fallen in love with him. The two of you have shared some casual encounters here and there but you knew it was never serious. So the idea of him meeting his greatest love made you uncomfortable.

Peter noticed the way your attention left his, your eyes hooded as you stared far away. He noticed your hand clutch on the sheets, your jaw clenched. “She got engaged recently,” your muscles relaxing. Oh, you said. “Yeah, to some rich socialite from the Upper East Side.”

“Good for her,” you whispered.

“Have you thought about something like that?”

“Marrying a rich man?” you chuckled.

“No, just marrying,” he uttered, the corner of his lips lifting north. His fingers trace your skin, drawing circles. You let him.

“Not at all. I guess I’m gonna be broke my whole life,” you try to get up, your back betraying you. You stagger for a bit, your hand finding Peter’s shoulder for stabilization. He stands as well, his large hands around your bare waist.

Your breaths were close—too close. You could feel his heat, his warm musky scent, his brown eyes set on yours. He bends his spine so he can reach your face closer, his pink lips hovering off yours.

You pull back, clearing your throat in the process. “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Yeah, sure,” he coughs.

You walk to the kitchen, holding onto your wounded torso. Peter’s eyes dropped to your underwear-clad ass, his cheeks blushed from the shame. Stop ogling your best friend Peter.

You find the fridge bare of any beverage, you turn your head back to see Peter staring at your ass, his face absent of any expression.

“Stop staring at my ass!” you shouted, throwing a kitchen cloth at him. “Plus, where’s all the beer.”

“I was not!” he shouted back. “And I think I drank all of it.”

You let out a sigh. You found a can of Coke on the bottom shelf of the fridge. You jumped to sit on the kitchen counter, your legs dangling off the linoleum countertop. The liquid sizzles as you chug it, the brown syrupy consistency dripping from the side of your mouth to your bare chest.

Fuck it. Peter walks to the kitchen, joining you. “If you want to seduce me you could just say it.”

“Seduce you?” you laughed. “And why would I do that?”

Your legs wrap around his waist. He takes the can from your hand, drinking the rest of it before placing it on the counter. “Because you’re like that, always making sure I can see that ass around,” he whispers to your neck.

Your head falls back from his kisses, your hands spread behind you for stability. He pulls your underwear off, your erection pointing north. He licks a strip underneath, you shudder from the sudden sensation.

He wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking it with his saliva, the only thing you could let out was a moan. He lifted you up the counter so your legs were mounted on his shoulders. He takes his digits inside his mouth, lubing it before pressing it into your hole.

“Fuck,” you moaned.

“Feel good, huh?” he said. His fingers curl up inside you, teasing your sensitive spot. Your body winces from the sensation, your legs automatically closing on his head. He strokes your erection again, simultaneously stimulating your prostate. The combined sensation made your legs weak, and your arms almost collapsing. “To be honest, you’re the only one I do this to, Spidey.”

“Liar,” you let out a groan. “I know you kicked yourself over and over for not bagging Gwen.”

His grip on your cock tightened, his fingers went deeper. “Aw, are you jealous of her?”

“You lost your virginity to me asshole,” you whimper. “I get to ride that dick, not her.”

“Ride?” he chuckles. He pulls back, his hands wet with spit. “Go at it then. Ride me.”

The two of you were in his bed now. Peter sitting on the bed as you sucked him off. His hand found your head, running it through your hair. “Fuck baby,” he moans.

Your head bobs on his tip, your tongue licking around his head as you take him in. Your free hand was stroking his length, it was long enough that it was actually difficult to take him all in your throat.

“Fuck the blowjob, just ride me please,” he whimpers.

“I was preparing it you dick,” you said. “I can’t fit all that without some lube.”

You straddle his legs, aligning his tip against your hole. Your hands find his broad shoulders for support. The two of you moan from the contact. You hole slowly taking his length in. Peter shuddered from the warmth enveloping his erection. He cursed, he could cum from this alone.

You looked beautiful, Peter thought. Your hips moving against his sex, your eyes lidded, and your mouth agape, the sweetest moans leaving your lips. It was a sight he could look at forever. He takes your faces to his lips pressing them together. You let out soft whimpers, Peter blushes from the sounds.

“It’s too fucking big,” you groan.

“You can take it, baby, please, do it for me,” Peter moans.

He was a mess, you thought. All sweaty and red. He didn’t have the enhanced stamina you had. Your hands fall on his toned abdomen, your fingers finding the ridges underneath his shirt. You moved your hips up and down his length, your brows furrowing from the amount of pressure on your behind.

Peter stroked your erection as you continued riding him. His mouth was agape as your eyes locked on each other. You pulled him to you, your arms around his head as you quickened your pace. Your hips gyrated on his cock with such swiftness Peter’s cock felt like it was being bombarded with so much stimuli he could combust into flames.

“Shit, I’m close–”

“Me too, Peter,” you moan. “Cum in me.”

“You sure?” he said. You nod against the whimpers.

Peter rocks his hips against your ass, gripping onto the mounds of flesh. Your body draws out the pleasure from him as you move your hips. He could let out curses, pleading for release. From the same beat of your movement, the two of you let out your climax, your own release covering his torso as he filled you.

You lay in bed catching your breath. “This was probably bad for your stitches,” he said, his brown hair drenched.

“Yeah, I think I tore it again,” you breathed heavily.

It was probably a mistake. For you to continue this charade with Peter. To exchange bodily pleasure knowing your heart beat only for him, but it was a mistake you were ready to commit over and over again.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut

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amostnobleyandere · 1 year

Text

Yandere! Noble! Scaramouche x GN! Reader (Arranged Marriage)

A/N: hey look first post!!!! this blog is basically just a place to dump my thoughts on yanderes and situations w them// if you’re not comfortable w that, please leave!!! this is not the place for you

GN reader but!!! the word “bride” is used once so do w that what you will .

remember, this is a mature blog !!! don’t like don’t read!!!!!!!!

warning(s): male! yandere, toxic relationships, slightly narcissistic yandere, verbal abuse, child neglect, arranged marriage, toxic behavior, bad parenting skills, loneliness, obsession, yandere scaramouche, scaramouche is his own warningetc. etc.

Synopsis: there’s this specific scenario ive been thinking of lately : an enemies to lovers, but with a yandere that is particularly bitter and hasn’t really experienced an unconditional love before but then his initial hatred of you turns into an obsession. I thought scara was perfect for it :)

—————————

neither of you had wanted to get married; you, the child of the last bloodline of a falling noble family, and scaramouche, heir to one of the wealthiest and most prestigious names in the empire, would have never been pushed to marry under normal circumstances. it could only be assumed that fate had revealed its hand and placed its destiny upon you.

you had never even met the young man that society had branded as ruthlessly curt with a lash-like tongue. you had never expected to, considering how far apart you were, in different circles and in different worlds

he was the duchess’ nephew and only heir, and was untouchable in both stature and power. in contrast, your family name was declining rapidly. you knew why your mother and father had accepted the marriage proposal the day it came, and you knew why they decide not to tell you until the letter in reply had already been sent. you had no say in the matter

how you parents arranged a marriage between the two of you? well, you could certainly guess; noble ladies gossiped and gasped about the young man who was rich with a handsome face, but with an incredibly arrogant personality and a razor tongue that both reflected his wit and endless scorn. you thought that the rumors must have been over exaggerated, as they always were, but for the duchess to have to reach out to your family to find a spouse for her son? had all the other contestants being rejected, and now they were picking through the scraps that were left? or perhaps, had they rejected him?

now, you weren’t so sure

even then, some part of you had never thought they would agree to something like this; they had concluded that this was what was best for you, had even told you that you will live a much happier life if you were in a household that wasn’t always on the edge of crumbling and giving way to time; you could see that they did have the best of intentions. and still, you felt betrayed

unbeknownst to you, at the time, your fiancé had felt the same way toward his mother; the expression of his feelings on the matter, however, included a lot more yelling and rage in his questions as to why he was being dragged into this. he was used to being disappointed, but being so blatantly used?

unfortunately, scaramouche’s defiance was only met with a cold silence and a blank stare, and after he had vehemently denied to go along with the marriage, his mother had only said that nothing could be done. he had no choice in the matter.

and the gentle glint in her eyes, that had still remained their after all these years, that stayed as she firmly reprimanded him, only served to make him more furious.

and so, his resentment for you, the other victim in this situation, came naturally.

when he met you for the first time, his regularly crass and sarcastic attitude only got worse. you could see the embarrassment dawn on both your parents’ and his mother’s faces, cringing every time his voice got a little too loud or when he said something particularly blunt. he made snide comments on your upbringing, your title, even your clothing wasn’t spared the ruthless bite of his words. between his curt and cold attitude and your futile attempts at making conversation, you two didn’t exactly hit it off when you first met

and then, when you finally got sick of it and told him what exactly you thought of his words and his money and where he could shove them, his resentment turned into something much more personal: spite.

he reasoned that he had every right to hate you. to be overly rude and childish whenever you so much as got the idea to be five feet near him. he never asked for the marriage. he doesn’t care about how much it would benefit the two of you, and he’s long past trying to finally please his mother into loving him, so why should he have to act like the perfect husband for someone who is below him?

your parents seemed to love you plenty though. if their guilty eyes and shifty glances were anything to go by. even if they were shamelessly grabbing at the wealth and prestige of another family, he could tell that this marriage was meant for you and your future. even if you didn’t want it. even if you seemed to dread it. every time they brought you over for a scheduled date in the lonely garden at the back of the duchess’s estate, there seemed to be a subtle pain in their eyes.

perhaps, a paternal regret at having to make their child miserable so that they could eventually have the things they weren’t able to give them.

…well, it gave him more reason to torment you.

————————

there seemed to be no way out of the awkward meetings. your parents were hell bent on having scaramouche as your husband, and his mother was just as determined. so, when you did have to suffer through seeing each other, you kept trading thinly veiled insults, practically sulking every time you heard the others name, and bickering with the each other at every opportunity. it became a familiar routine for the two of you, to not get along and verbalize your frustrations through jabs and taunts

strangely enough, scaramouche grew fond of the bickering. you were practically the only person who would speak to him so casually. with so little respect and without fear of him blowing up. he thought it was refreshing. no one hardly ever talked to him anymore, and even a child that had everything and more could not curb his own loneliness by himself…he would never tell you that, though.

he thought that at least it was entertaining to tease you. actually, if you weren’t so annoying, he might have actually gone as far to say it’s pleasant having you in his company. It certainly beats the large, lonely house he had to wander every day.

plus, when was the last time he had talked this much? when someone had looked at him and acknowledged his existence without him having to work for it?

—————————

as the engagement progressed, you two ended up spending hours together every week, whether you wanted to or not, and while you were mentally and emotionally exhausted from the stress your parents were putting you through, he’s looking forward to your meetings like they’re the highlight of his week…it’s ridiculous, he thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks, and oh god now he can’t get you out of his head.

then suddenly, you’re calling it off. the whole engagement. miraculously, you guilted your parents into going back on what they had agreed to.

his mother is appalled and frustrated, a bit exasperated now that she has to find another suitable bride for her son.

scaramouche is beyond furious.

he goes quiet with rage. he’s more snappish now, towards the maids, towards everyone. his attitude is no longer his usual arrogance and crudeness. his usual bitterness rose into an explosive temper and ruthless training just to keep himself confined to a state of sanity. there is, once again, for the first time in many, many years, an unmistakable fear of abandonment that is raging in his head. he feels so wronged.

and it’s your fault.

and then, he goes silent. if they thought it was bad when he talked, see what they think when he’s quiet.

for his mother, it’s unnerving. to the servants, it’s downright terrifying.

no one realizes that he’s calculating. no one really expects it. everyone assumed this was one big temper tantrum after suffering a huge blow to his pride.

scaramouche was really only clutching his shattered heart after giving it to someone who threw it away.

—————————

what he wants at first is revenge.

that’s what he wants to think he wants. he wants to make things even between the two of you; make you suffer like you made him. force his way into your mind in the worst way possible, and keep himself there to get the message across.

for the first few agonizing days after the annulment, he thinks; maybe that he should tamper with your parents businesses and make you a pauper, someone who is reduced to having to take care of their parents after you fall from the graces of society. and then, after that, he’s hoping you’d come crawling back to him, and ask for his help and his hand. and he’d oh-so graciously accept you back into his life; not before making you beg for it, though.

then again, perhaps toying with whatever lover you have would be a good way to get back at you. he just assumes that you have one, because you must, for you to just abandon him like that.

you should have just stayed.

either way, he’s going to make you regret it.

—————————

it doesn’t take much for scaramouche to convince his mother to have a much needed talk with your parents.

and despite everything she’s done, ei does want to make her son happy. she wasn’t blind after all; he’s always seemed to be on edge, ever since the accident, but he had changed in the short amount of time he had know you. the boy she had failed to raise and care for, someone who was now so far out of her reach, seemed to be more calm and content when you were by his side. it had been a long time since she had seen her nephew look forward to something this much.

whether you want the engagement or not matters less to her.

—————————

and so, your resistance all comes apart so easily. Ei is one of the most powerful people in the empire, so it doesn’t take much effort before she’s luring your parents into throwing you back to them and into scaramouche’s waiting arms. It would be the least she could do as his mother

it’s only a matter of time before you’re resting in the palm of his hand once again; the engagement is back on, running smoothly towards your fast approaching wedding, like your little rebellious mishap never even happened

scaramouche is reveling in it. he feels as though he’s won. and in truth, he has. he imagines the look on your face, how you’ll have to greet him eventually, look him in the eyes after tossing him to the side and then losing, and thinks about how he’s going to make your reunion as painful as possible when you do meet again

his wishes are fulfilled when not even a month later are you pushed into the expansive garden by servants and abandoned by them even quicker, watching them scurry away with pale but oddly relieved faces. once again, you were meant to suffer through another lunch date after you thought you had finally escaped and left the gloomy estate behind forever.

the familiar stone pathway and expansive flora only served to bring back bad memories of your failed attempt to gain your freedom and reminded you of what you would have to look forward to for the rest of your life. it’s only the scuffle of boots against the ground that brought you back to reality.

you knew exactly who was standing behind you.

—————————

when scaramouche saw you standing there, muscles taught and shoulders tensed as you refused to look at him, he took his time observing you, savoring the moment and committing it to memory.

his slow and deliberate footsteps did little to calm your fraying nerves. You were both surrounded by tall hedges and the gentle sound of water coming from nearby fountains. no one else was around. You were completely isolated, with only your fiancé- no, your crazed future husband- keeping you company.

and as always, his presence was suffocating.

“you know, trying to run away from me was cute, but it got annoying after the joke was over. did you really think you could go against a duchy? don’t make me laugh.” his voice had a high and condescending lit to it that seemed to grate against your ears. your stony facade crumbled soon after, instantly revealing the confusion and panic that welled in your chest.

“…why did you do it?” your voice came out hoarse and low. you whirled around, finally looking into those violet eyes. scaramouche felt a shiver of excitement run up his spine as your watery gaze met his.

“you hated this engagement just as much as I did. why did you drag me back here? we both could’ve been free.” a bitter laugh escaped your throat that pathetically choked off into a sob.

he laughed lowly as his head titled down, shielding his eyes from you. the sight made you shudder involuntarily.

“‘drag you back?’ deary, you belong to me. you did the moment I decided I wanted you. what you want doesn’t matter anymore. You don’t know what’s good for yourself, clearly.”

when he lifted his head back up to meet your eyes, he was smiling. the soft turn of his lips wasn’t full of cruelty or malice, scorn or hatred, and somehow that made the uncharacteristically gentle look so, so much worse.

scaramouche picked up your limp hand, gently turning it over, and slipped a ring onto it. it was like putting a heavy shackle on a caged bird; it was needless and unnecessary, you were already trapped. the world did not need anything else but the duchess’s final word to let everyone know who you belonged to.

but, as you stood there staring blankly ahead, you noticed scaramouche seemed genuinely happy to see the band resting on your finger.

the smile he wore turned more playful, more mocking, as those piercing eyes looked at you as if you were pitiful and small, beneath him, something that needed guidance

and his purple eyes locked with yours as he slowly pulled you to him and brought you into a soft kiss.

—————————

“Give me your love. Give me your validation. Hand yourself over to me, body, mind, and soul.”

“And what if I don’t want to?”

“Darling, do you think you have a choice?”

#scaramouche #yandere x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere genshin #yandere #yandere genshin impact #romantic yandere #male yandere #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #yandere wanderer x reader #yander wanderer #genshin impact #genshin

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xiakato · 9 months

Text

XIAOTING- Ella Baila Sola (M)

The party was bustling, everyone dressed to the nines. The atmosphere felt expensive, taking a glance around the room, only the most high class brands could be seen. You stand on the second floor overlooking the hall, watching people body to body. Sipping on your room temp gin, studying everyone walking in or walking out. Your eyes land on her, her beautiful black dress hugging her curves, leaving little to your imagination. Her beauty stands out even in the sea of nobodies. Her eyes meet yours,dragging you in. Falling deep into her dark brown eyes, She walks to another room, her eyes only just leaving you as she goes to the next room. You waste little time walking down the stairs, following her into the room, pushing your way through the people. Finding her again came easy to you, once her beauty was burned into your retinas. She turns slightly, looking at you offering you a light smile before moving on. Pushing people out of the way to catch up to this woman. You finally do, she looks over the luscious garden, hearing your footsteps and your bated breath she looks behind.

“Rather relentless don’t you think?” Her voice was beautiful as she is, the low light only provided from the moon etches itself into her beauty.

“Can you blame me?” You ask once you catch your breath.

“Perhaps I could, not every man rushes through a party filled to the brim to get to a pretty woman.”

“Perhaps a man will when he sees the most beautiful woman that has ever blessed his eyes,” You step closer to her, her aura doesn’t falter. She is used to this, you can tell.

“I’m flattered,” Her emotionless face remained perfectly still, “But just like all men, there must be more you want from me.”

The music has gotten louder, the drunks come stumbling out around the two. You get closer to her, “I only wish to get the chance to know a woman that has caught my eye and seems to have something deeper hidden.”

“What’s there to know Mr?” She leaves out her hand.

“L/n, Y/n L/n,” You take her hand ever so softly like she is made from porcelain, kissing her knuckles.

“I’m Shen Xiaoting,” She smiles slightly, taking her hand away from the roughness of yours.

“Xiaoting, nice to meet you on this beautifully moonlit evening.”

“Likewise, walk with me,” She turns and starts walking, her eyes lingering on you just a bit longer. You can’t help but to join her in the rhythm of her step.

“What brought you here tonight Xiaoting?” You ask her, tearing your eyes away from her to take in the scenery.

“Hopelessness,” She replies as she takes your features, “I presume that it is the answer if I were to take my guess.”

“Why hopelessness?” You look, her eyes a sea of emotion betrayed by the statue stillness of her face.

“I’m just lost, a soul without purpose. A loner, if you want to attach a title to it.”

“I’m here,” You stop walking, taking in everything you can about her, her ever so slightly movements, her milk white skin thriving under the moon.

“I dance alone,” She keeps walking, her heels clicking against the stone walkway.

“You don’t have to,” You follow, the wind is a bit chilly. You take your jacket, placing it softly on her shoulders.

“I know, but I don’t trust anyone nearly enough to let them in.”

“I’ll do what I can for you to trust me,” You smiled at her, the night continued on. You spent every minute you could with her, the night ended a win in your book. You got her number and you texted her whenever you could. She opened up to you little by little, you were happy that this amazing person, who was scorned by the shit life threw at them, relied on you. The more time the two of you spent together, the more you yourself realized that you love her. You realized that as you looked at her while at Han river, the calm water, the peaceful atmosphere coupled with her peaceful expression. Her face has brightened tremendously, you like to think it’s thanks to you.

“Why are you staring at me again?” She asks, a giggle escapes from her light crimson lips. You remember the first time you heard her laugh, your heart skipped a few beats at the innocence resonating through it

“Can I take you to dinner?” You blurt out, her giggling stops as you watch a bright smile etch across her face.

“Like a d-date?” She asks, her smile falters a little, the hope in her eyes.

“Yes Xiaoting, like a date.”

She hugs you tightly, “I thought you would never ask me.”

“You knew from the beginning I wanted to take you on a date.”

“Shhhh~” She giggled, hugging you tighter. She pulls away, quickly telling you to pick her up at 7 before she takes off in a taxi. You chuckle rushing home yourself, to get ready for the hopefully a changing point in your life. The all black suit, topped off by a simple gold chain collar pin. The messy yet refined look of the styling of your hair is perfect and you went to get her. Knocking on her door, she opens it wearing the very same dress when you first met her, the dress still perfectly fits her just like that day she lures you into a trap that you can’t get out of, a trap you don’t want to.

“W-wow,” You say as she takes your breath away.

“I haven't worn this since that day,” She shyly pats down the fabric, “I hope you still like this dress.”

“I do but I love the person wearing it.”

She blushes, grabbing her handbag, her hand intertwined with yours as you lead her to the car. The sleek all black Audi R8 with black leather, a perfect choice considering the both of you look like death eaters right now. The choice of dinner was easy, you called up one of your friends that owns one of the best restaurants in Seoul to keep a table for you. The drive was quiet and perfect. Her hand fit perfectly with yours, arriving at the restaurant, your friend met the two of you at the back. Taking you through the kitchen and to a private room. Throughout the night, she opened up more than ever before. You couldn’t help but to smile all dinner, but as always a perfect night must come to an end. Your hands intertwine once more as you walk her to her door. Your hand doesn’t leave hers until she unlocks the door and steps in.

“U-um, Y/n?”

“Yes Ting?” You ask her as you look back at her right before you step off her porch.

“Wanna eat ramyeon?”

You look at her through the mirror, as her dress falls off of her frame. Her white lingerie, a stark contrast from her black dress. You take in the features of her body. Her thighs, her toned stomach, everything. Leaving soft kisses down her nape, under your fingertips you feel her shiver. You lead her to the bed, laying her down, leaving kisses down her body. Hooking your thumbs in her panties, you pull them down and spread her legs which she quickly closes.

“Relax baby, let me take care of you,” You say softly as you spread her legs again, your tongue darts out slowly licking circles around her clit as she whimpers. Your hands grip onto her thighs tightly but not too tight. You keep up with what you are doing, altering between small circles and big circles.

“Fuck baby,” You feel her hand reach out tugging on your hair. Flicking your tongue at random intervals as her hips buckle against your mouth. She’s sensitive, you can tell it’s been awhile since the last time she was taken care of. You flick faster and lick the occasional circle, as her other hand joins the other tugging your hair as she cums. Her legs squeezes your head as she locks ankles riding out her orgasm, “Holy s-shit,” She lets go of your hair, you sit up wiping your mouth. She tastes sweet, just perfect. She pulls you down onto your back as she tosses your boxers and trousers somewhere in the room, “So hard for me already baby,” She strokes your cock softly, “My turn to take care of you,” She smiles as she straddles you, sliding your cock into her in one swoop. She’s the tightest you’ve ever been in, squeezing your cock between her soaked velvet walls.

“Fuck Xiaoting,” You mutter as she lifts her hips slightly and slams back down rolling her hips, your arms wrap around her waist.

“Say my name again please baby,” She asks as she rides you ever so slowly letting you feel everything.

“Xiaoting,” you look her in the eyes, her hair disheveled, her arms around your neck as she rides. You capture her in a kiss, the passion flows out as you hold her tighter. You want to give your entire being to this girl, every bit of you. Her lips pressed against yours is the euphoria you needed, the complete package.

“Y/n, I love you. I love you so much,” She speeds up with her hips, her hands holding on the side of your head.

“I love you too, I love you so much too,” You stare into her eyes as she gets tighter and tighter, “I’m close, Xiaoting.”

“I-inside please, give your love,” She quickens her pace, as she reaches her own climax, you reach yours. You hold the tightest you did all night as she does to you, Your cock throbs as you fill her, her pussy not letting go. Only a tiny bit drips out, You pull back slightly kissing her again.

“I love you Xiaoting,” You say, a bit lucid coming down from your climax. She kisses you again, her tongue swirling around yours. Her body fits perfectly with yours, you never can go back to anything from before now that you had her in your arms.

“I don’t have to dance alone anymore…. I love you too Y/n.”

#kpop smut #kep1er #xiaoting #kep1er xiaoting #smut

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jokeringcutio · 4 months

Text

Stepdad! William Afton x (f) Reader: New Year ( Warnings: Smut)

AN: Happy New Year to all my followers and all you WilliamAfton / SteveRaglan / MatthewLillard Fanbunnies. Here’s a little drabble that fits inside the stepdad AU universe.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Talk about adultery/secrecy/taboo relationship, mouth on v, p in v, unprotected s*x, threats of stepdaddy wanting to keep you with him.

The soft glow of fairy lights illuminated the room as you sat at your desk, pen in hand, diligently writing in your diary. The New Year had just begun, and with it came a sense of renewal, of change. You couldn't help but wonder what this new period in your life would bring—new experiences, new people, or perhaps a different side to those already in your life.

The door creaked open, and without looking up, you knew it was him—your stepdad, William. He entered quietly, his footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floor. You didn't move, not even when he approached and placed a warm, strong hand on your shoulder.

"Enjoying the peace and quiet after all that partying?" he asked, his voice low and smooth like aged whiskey.

"Definitely," you replied, setting your pen down. "Vanessa and Mike really went overboard with the drinking, huh?"

William chuckled, his fingers starting to trace slow circles on your shoulders, drifting lower with each pass. "Yeah, they were both pretty hungover the next day. Serves them right for turning our living room into a war zone."

You shivered at the sensation of his touch, but continued the conversation. "I guess it was a memorable way to start the year." Your thoughts betrayed you, wondering if William's presence in your room held some hidden meaning, some unspoken desire.

"Memorable indeed," he murmured, his hands now dangerously close to the curve of your breasts.

The heavy thud of your diary closing echoed through the dimly lit room. William's blue eyes locked onto yours, a shadowy look lurking in their depths. He leaned in, his breath hot and hushed against your ear.

"Your mother is doubting our wedding," he whispered, his voice laced with bitterness. "She's talking about divorce. She suspects I've been fucking her darling daughter."

Your heart clenched at the words, anger bubbling just beneath the surface. You scowled at him, the unfairness of it all surging within you. It was he who had started this twisted game, manipulating you into secrecy. You would never want to hurt your mother this way. You’d never have allowed a married man to touch you if he hadn’t been living in the same house, under the same roof, manipulating you into this with every breath you took.

"And did you tell her the truth?” you hissed, accusingly. “Did you tell her how often you fuck her little girl?” You used those words on purpose, as William loved to remind you of how much younger and weaker you were compared to him. Nothing more but a little girl that needed to be put in her place. Whether you’d been bratty or not.

A low growl escaped his lips as he grabbed your wrist, flipping you over the desk without a moment's hesitation. Your body tensed, adrenaline rushing through your veins. He pushed your pants aside with rough fingers, and then… he surprised you.

His beard tickling your skin as he lowered his mouth to you.

"Dad!" you gasped, but it was too late. His tongue traced patterns on your most sensitive flesh, teasing you mercilessly. A shudder ran down your spine, the pleasure building up inside, threatening to explode.

The tip of the tongue dipped in. He slurped and sucked and suckled on your nub until you writhed in pleasure. But a strong hand kept you pushed down, your chest against the desk, your diary trapped underneath your tummy.

"Remember who's in charge here," he murmured against you, his voice dark with desire. The air from his lips tickled your wet folds. You felt a shiver run down your spine, felt your walls pulse helplessly with pleasure.

He always managed to do this to you. The strong hand kept pushing you down, giving you no room to move away from the onslaught of his mouth. His lips, his tongue, his beard – he was driving you insane. This must be the reason your mom invited him into her life, you thought through the haze. He was so good in giving you pleasure, that you’d forget whether you had said yes or no or had allowed him in. The sensation of his beard brushing against you only heightened the intensity, pushing you closer to the edge. You were seeing stars.

And then his lips were gone.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice wavering. "Daddy, please." The word felt strange on your tongue, but there was no denying the thrill it sent through you. William's eyes darkened with lust as he flipped you over, onto your back, and positioned himself between your legs.

"Remember, you are my little girl too now," he growled before thrusting inside without warning. The intensity of it left you gasping for breath, fingers digging into the edge of the desk. His movements were rough and hungry, leaving you with an overwhelming sense of both fear and pleasure.

His cock was stretching you impossibly wide, your vaginal walls pulsed around him in an effort to fit him in. Slick lubed him all the way, dripping down and even coating his balls that were heavy and tightened with each thrust, ready to burst.

"Harder," you managed to choke out, driven by a need you couldn't quite comprehend. He obliged, his grip on your hips bruising and unyielding. Your thoughts were a chaotic whirlwind, torn between desire for William and guilt over betraying your mother.

"Mine," he snarled, his eyes locked onto yours as he drove into you with brutal force. The desk squeaked and thudded against the wall, the papers that had been laying upon it fell to the floor, your phone tumbled over the edge. The word echoed in your mind, pulsing with each pounding heartbeat. You belonged to him, body and soul, and there was something undeniably intoxicating about that fact.

As the coil within you tightened, desperation clawed at your chest. "Oh, Dad, I'm—"

"Say it," he demanded, his voice harsh and unforgiving.

"Daddy," you whispered, barely audible. “I’m gonna come on your cock.” And with that final submission, you shattered beneath him, your climax crashing over you in waves. It took him a few more firm thrusts but he followed soon after, his release hot and possessive inside you.

You bit your lip after catching your breath, listening to the low pants of your stepdad as he too got down from his high. You watched as he ran a hand through his wispy hair, grey locks betraying how much older he was compared to you. Not that you minded. You thought the age had added a spark to him – like fine wine.

Withdrawing from your trembling body and leaving a trail of lukewarm cum on the inside of your thigh, William reached down, sliding your diary from underneath you. He flipped it open, his eyes scanning the pages. The thin-lipped serious expression he wore slowly was replaced by a predatory smirk. As he read, his smile only grew wider, more satisfied.

"Look at this," he murmured, his fingers tracing over your words. "You write you can’t wait for us to fuck. So eager during the day, waiting for your mom to go away so Daddy can have his fucking fun on the playground.”

A low groan, an indication of what your words did to him. You knew exactly which parts he was reading. The entries where you described how your body had started to adjust to him. How it felt when he had you warm his cock. How happy you were when he made you cum afterward. How your feelings for him had started to change. Whatever they had been in the beginning, they had been fully replaced with an unadulterated love for him.

His blue eyes met yours, the smirk never leaving his face. “You like it when I fuck you, sweetheart. How sweet. It even says you claim to have fallen in love with me."

He closed the diary, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss on the top of your head. The contrast between his earlier violence and this tender gesture left you reeling. He helped you up into a sitting position before he turned away from you, adjusting his pants and making sure he looked presentable again.

"I'll find a way to keep you with me," he promised, his voice low and dangerous.

You knew you should have been terrified, but all you could feel was that strange, dark thrill deep within your core. William Afton had claimed you, and there was no going back.

If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi (:

I’ll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I’ll keep you up to date :)

Quick links:

~~ Masterlist - Request Box - Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

#william afton x reader #stepdad x stepdaughter #stepdad au #reader x william afton #william afton #Stepdad!WilliamAfton x Reader #Fnaf filth #Happy New Year #older man x younger woman

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deonsx · 7 months

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If They Cheat On You Revenge

Part2!

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Jouno

Content: Cheating Revenge

Not:You have a chance to choose the next story below, don't forget to vote

Dazai Osamu

After that incident, everything became worthless to you. You were afraid that the man you valued more than yourself would betray you and drive you to suicide. How could he do this to you? You were still in the same house because Dazai said that he would leave that house and at least he wouldn't be able to take the house full of memories from you. A week has passed since this incident and now Dazai was only coming home to take his clothes, he was taking his memories at home to erase them more and more day by day

One day you decided to go out. You wanted to give yourself what you needed to get yourself out of this darkness. Of course, you didn't decide to do this alone. Chuuya-san, Osamu's closest partner, heard about your incident and called you

You met and talked for a long time, Chuuya was really interested in you, he was always Dazai and your closest mutual friend, you used to meet, but now the wheels have changed and the man you thought you would marry and live with forever..he touched the skin of a another woman

"Why don't you leave that house, s/o? There's no point in being in a house full of bad memories anymore." When he told you this, you thought he was right and you decided to go home together and collect your belongings. As you were taking your steps towards the house, you saw your door open and heard a woman's voice. "My love, Should I take these too?"

You saw a woman right in front of the door, she was taking your belongings and throwing them away one by one. "How dare you put your hands in my house!" You looked at the woman who quickly dropped the frame in her hand with your shout. You looked at your ex and the woman he cheated on you with. "I-I just.." she try to talk, Chuuya stepped into the house and gave the woman a hard look, "I see you have your eye on my relationship with s/o, chuuya" Osamu was hateful but tried to stay calm, Chuuya just chuckled "Shame on you..you prefer silver to gold, Don't you even dare talk to her”

Chuuya Nakahara

After that day, everything changed. You left the house you lived in to never see his face again. You came across your old friend Osamu. "My my! This beauty? Why does Chuuya leave you alone? Is he still at work like this?" You were in the agency's cafe and suddenly your eyes filled with tears as if it hurt you. When you saw this, the brunette's face became serious. "What's going on, s/o?"

You felt a lump in your throat and you couldn't stop crying. Osamu narrowed his eyes as he gently held your chin and wiped away your tears. "I understand..so he chose another woman over you." Even though you were amazed at his intelligence, you felt very helpless and continued to cry on his chest

You spent your days talking to him and he made you feel good. One day, while you were laughing with Dazai about something, you heard the sound of the door opening behind you, but since your back was turned, you didn't feel the need to look. "So I guess I wasn't the only one who was behind someone back all this time." That familiar voice.. for months. The voice you didn't hear rang in your ear. You were afraid to turn around, but Dazai's voice protected you

"Who is this pathetic man? It's doubtful that you can even talk yet" Dazai grinned and mocked the red haired man "So you've had your eyes on my girlfriend all this time? I should have guessed" Chuuya got angry and the force of gravity covered the surroundings "You're the one who cheated and you're still so daring? Try and Beat me if you dare"

Fyodor Dostoyevski

After everything you've been through, you didn't want the fraud committed on you to go unanswered, so you did the only thing that could hurt your lover... you decided to expose his plans, you took all the documents, messages, records and foiled Fyodor's plans one by one

Fyodor trusted you very much even when he was cheating on you.. you gained his miraculous trust, you took every penny of the money in his bank and gave the crime documents and plans to the Detective agency, that is, his enemies, of course you did not leave it like that, his current biggest enemy "Dazai Osamu, you are finally here" everything in one day you did

You met him in one of the back dark alleys "These documents..why are you giving them to me? What do you want in return" You gave a deep breath and shook your head "the best thing you can give me is Fyodor's collapse Osamu" You grinned and just winked and left, Your phone start ringing after couple hours, you knew this sound, Fyodor Dostoyevsky

You answered your ex's phone with a look of happiness on your face "You..What the hell are you doing s/o?" You heard the tense voice coming from the other end of the phone, seemingly calm but eating at you inside, "What have I done, dear?" The phone hung up on you as soon as you asked this, his next move was obvious, he was coming for you

Finally a black silhouette appeared at the door and opened it quickly "Very rude Fyodor" You spoke to him mockingly "How long have you been on the different side s/o" you squinted your eyes as you looked into his purple irises he still thought he didn't know what he was doing "Ever since my beautiful lover held someone else in his arms"

Nikolai Gogol

Even if you found out that he was cheating on you, you did not want to abort your child, the fruit of your relationship and love. You were very indecisive at first, but now you had a due date and were waiting for the day to come. You did not leave the house during your pregnancy, you were all alone except for your friends who visited you

At the end of 8 months, at the insistence of your friends, they took you to a nice restaurant a few days before the birth to celebrate it in advance. "I can bet that she will look like her aunt!" Your friend said, laughing and looking at the others, Your daughter was going to be your daughter, but she would grow up without a father

"I bet he will look like me the most " You made a bet with your friends and it was a night you had a lot of fun. Your friends offered to take you home, but after a long time you wanted to walk by yourself and now you were walking alone on the street, accompanied by a white street lamp that turned on from time to time, towards your house

“S/o..?” That familiar voice that made you freeze where you were.. you wanted to turn around but at the same time you didn't want to see his face. When his hand touched your shoulder, you quickly backed away. "Don't touch me." When you turned towards him, he looked at your swollen belly. "Is this baby.. our child?" Silence surrounded you, you did not answer him, with the sudden tension, you were about to fall to the ground in pain, Nikolai quickly held you

Your birth had started, Nikolai quickly took you in his arms and brought you to the hospital, and now you had your child in the hospital, whom you had been waiting for 8 months. She looked like his father with white hair and colorful eyes. He looks like his father. There is a Nikolai looking at her longingly, but you were not going to let him touch this child. "Go away." you protected her from his as you hugged him "S/o...please let me love her" he said with his eyes narrowed and his voice trembling "Just the fact that you looked at her is a blessing I gave you, don't come near us again”

Jouno Saigiku

You couldn't believe that the love you had given for years was so simplified. He had been cheating on you for 5 months, and while looking into your eyes, "It's been 5 months, s/o." What he said pierced your heart with a sharp arrow

You quickly slapped him and let your eyes fill with tears "You fucking! How could you do this to me!?" you kept hitting him and your eyes were burning in pain, "Get out of my house right now! GET OUT!" You quickly kicked him out of the house and vowed to end him

You tried to get yourself together for 1-2 days and then you went to your rivals' agency. When you entered, everyone took cover. "I came here to do something important..detectives agency." You gave all the information you could about him. It didn't take long for them to trust you of course, it took them months. A total of 1 year later... Your big plan was ready, finally the agency decided to raid their headquarters and you were going to kill him there

Everyone dispersed as planned and in the end you trapped them all but you did something that wasn't included in the plan and locked you in the same room with him "You are finally here...finally" you spoke as you walked towards him. When he tried to use his ability you quickly drew your sword and caught him at his weakest point..you always knew him. you learned everything and now you were his rival

You put the gun to his head.. But you didn't, you couldn't pull that damn trigger. Your hand shook. In the face of the man you believed would make you happy for the rest of your life.. That person wasn't the person you wanted anymore. "I'm not someone like you, Jouno, I won't kill you like you killed me”

Enjoy!

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roronoagem · 4 months

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Maybe this would be better? What about Law finding out his SO was forced to eat a devil fruit. She hadn't told anyone and it was only made obvious after she fell overboard and couldn't swim. Maybe she had talked about her previous love for swimming, but no one caught on that it was something she couldn't do anymore.

characters: trafalgar d. water law

content warnings: gn!reader, law feels a bit betrayed lol, reader almost drowned, & very slight argument.

a/n: shitting my pants rn bc i met law in the anime a couple of times & my knowledge is based on vids & his wiki 😭 i’m scared to write him so out of character, please don’t come at me if it’s nothing like law i beg you . . . i’m gonna jump bye !

let’s start with you speaking about how much you loved swimming, how much you loved going to the beach.

everyone on the polar tang knew about it, but they were totally oblivious that you couldn’t do it anymore due to your devil fruit.

not even your captain knew about this.

and he didn’t know you had the powers of a devil fruit, in the first place.

and when you fell right into the water and your head didn’t pop out of the water, bepo started to panic.

“CAPTAIN!” bepo was running from side to side searching for law. “[y/n]..!”

that’s when law appeared and noticed your absence, trying to get the polar bear to explain the situation.

when shachi finally pulled you out of the water, after he jumped in to search for you, you were almost passed out. law felt a hint of panic at the sight because well… it didn’t make much sense from what the bear said.

did you hit your head? did something underwater attacked you? could it be that you got so scared you passed out?

impossible. he knew you too well, you wouldn’t get scared just because you fell into the water, it was calm enough to be able to swim too.

when you finally opened your eyes and started coughing water, law felt relief fill his chest. he checked your pulse and body temperature, make sure you were breathing properly. he wrapped you in a blanket as you were completely soaked.

you felt a bit dizzy, unable to focus on whatever was surrounding you. “[y/n]! i’m so glad you’re okay! i’m sorry!” bepo started to apologise because he stood there panicking instead of taking action, but you weren’t mad at him.

“it’s okay… don’t worry,” you were able to say before meeting law’s hard gaze. you shivered, because he seemed unhappy somehow. “we need to talk,” that’s all he said.

you ended up in his office, he finished checking you up just to be sure you were truly okay. he didn’t say much while doing so, which caused the tension between you two to grow.

“say something,” you gave in before law. it was tiring, to say the least. he was avoiding your eyes too. what the hell?

“you almost drowned,” he said then, tone obvious. but he still was avoiding you. “but i’m here now,” you answered back.

law took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to not snap at you. “you were drowning,” he repeated, finally meeting your gaze. “but i’m alive!”

“what happened?” his tone was cold, he was treating you like any other patient. “i fell in the water, shachi pulled me out. that’s all,” you tried to sound as confident as possible, protecting your secret. “you know what doesn’t sound right to me?” law tilted his head to the side, “you talking every second about how much you love swimming, you love the sea, the ocean, and then this happens!”

of course he finally snapped. law is not a dumb man, he knows everything about everyone in his crew — he has to. it was clear you were avoiding telling him something important, and this was making him feel both angry but also hurt… did you not trust him enough?

“i-i forgot how to do that, i guess??” you responded, trying to make him let go of the subject. “you like it so much but you forget how to do that? how is it that i’ve never seen you get too close to the water since you joined this crew, huh?”

so he had noticed. he knew that it didn’t make sense but he never found the right moment to bring this up. but now…

“you’re the one avoiding it in the first place,” you retorted, as if putting him under the spotlight for a second would help you win the argument. “yes, because i ate a devil fruit and–”

when law paused, you noticed realisation spreading all over his expression. he found the missing piece of the puzzle. you ate a devil fruit too.

“why?” as he said that you couldn’t bare to look at him anymore, his tone showed that he felt betrayed by you for not telling him such important information. “[y/n]-ya… look at me,” law took a step closer.

“i was forced to eat it! i didn’t want to do that! i-i genuinely loved the ocean, swimming, these weren’t lies! but…”

when you started sobbing, law moved closer and gently cupped your cheeks. you met his gaze and noticed that he wasn’t angry anymore, he was trying to comfort you the best he could. “i know this is something you’re not proud of, but this information is vital. i needed to know that you ate a devil fruit because it could put your life in danger, just like today. i’d never judge you for it,” he tried to reassure you.

you felt relieved, you wiped your cheeks and then leaned closer to hug him. he caressed your back gently and let you stay like that for as much as you needed.

“i’m sorry,” you then murmured, sighing. “you’re alive and that’s all that matters to me,” law’s tone was firm, he held you a bit tighter for a second. you smiled at his words, words full of his love for you.

#꒰ 🖋️ ꒱ writing #꒰ 🌐 ꒱ one piece #꒰ 💭 ꒱ trafalgar d. water law #FORGOT TO SAY THIS. thank you for being the first req on my new blog hehe #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #op law x reader #trafalgar law drabble #trafalgar law blurb #trafalgar law imagine #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar one piece #one piece

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thewritetofreespeech · 13 days

Text

Tressym can be Fickle

WORDS: 692 RATING: G PAIRING: Gale x Tav SUMMARY: based on a very real arguement between my husband & I on who our cat likes more.

It had been a long, arduous, grueling day at the academy.

Though Gale loved his new role as a professor and educator, teaching the young minds of witches & wizards all across Faerun to harness their magic, induction week was the worst. He felt his life was in less peril fighting the Elder Brain or any of their other enemies & cohorts along the Sword Coast than he was now. Testing the new inductees to file them accordingly to their skill. ‘Skill’ being a very loose word tossed around this week.

He returned home that evening with a heavy sigh through the door, an even heavier thud of his satchel filled with books, and a desperate need to be tended to by his spouse. The whole day had been about soothing the egos, feelings, and on occasion literal wounds of new students that Gale thought he deserved some tending to now.

“Tav?” He called out as he put his cloak away. Usually, they greeted him at the door. Or at least acknowledged him when he came home. Curious, Gale walked through the house to try and find them. His search not long as he came upon Tav in the living room. On the couch by a low fire, with Tara on their lap. “Well….don’t you two look cozy.”

“Hmm, we rather are Mr. Dekarios.” Tara agreed. “Or at least we were, until someone started shouting.”

“Apologies for shouting in my own house.” Gale snipped at Tara. Taking his own plush armchair across from them. “Since when did you become a lap cat? And, before you get too ruffled under the feathers, it’s a figure of speech.”

Tara hummed. Seeming to debate about not letting it go but was perhaps indeed to comfortable to make a fuss. “Very recently I suppose. I never had an interest until now.” The tressym purred with her eyes closed as she tilted her head up towards Tav and her head scratches.

“You never took an interest with me.” Gale said with a deep frown.

“You do not have nails, Mr. Dekarios.”

The wizard growled and stood up. Unable to watch his dearest friend and lover betray him like this in front of his own eyes. It was still early for dinner but he stalked off towards the kitchen to focus his frustrations on what to eat.

A few moments later, Tav came in. Looking confused on why he was so upset. “Sorry.” He apologized quickly. “It’s just been a long day. And I am glad that you and Tara are getting along now. Guess I’m being….overly sensitive at being shut out. Tressym can be fickle, but I’ve never known Tara to change her mind about anyone. Again, not that I’m not pleased you two are getting along. I just never thought I would suddenly be second in her estimation.”

“Suddenly second? Please Mr. Dekarios.” The couple turned to see Tara trot in. Seeming interested in their conversation. “I wouldn’t say that you were suddenly second. Not given my high esteem of your mother. A better estimate is which one of you is second on the day, and who is third.”

“Really Tara? Kick a man while he’s down??”

“But, I’m a reasonable creature. Perhaps my estimations can be over swayed. Perhaps with a bit of chicken? Fried pigeons if you have any?”

“So a creature of reason but not honor, eh?” Gale stated, with a wave of his hand as if he wish to brush away this whole conversation.

Before he could leave, Tav wrapped their arms around his waist. Pulling him close. The smell of their hair in his nose. Something like ‘you’ll always be number 1 to me’ muffled into his chest, which causes him to smile and hold them back.

They tell Gale to go upstairs and relax. Take a bath if he liked, while they made dinner. That sounded heavenly, so he did just that.

When he came back down, he was not amused by the roast chicken on his plate. Nor the grinning little tressym in the corner, licking her chops like she’d just swallowed a canary. Or, perhaps, her bribery chicken.

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xiaosonlybeloved · 6 months

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Hi! Saw your requests were open and I wanted to ask for Heizou and the Hanahaki prompt, please? 🙏🏼 you try your best to hide it from him but being the genius detective he is, he figures it out. I’d love to see how you write it!

Melancholy -Heizou

featuring:- Shikanoin Heizou, fem!reader, brief mentions of Kujou Sara tags:- Hanahaki AU, angst, hurt/no comfort, brief mentions of blood a/n:- im so so sorry anon for writing this so late! But here you go, and i hope you like it :) thank u for requesting! (i think it would kill me to actually write fluff for once)(also if i made a taglist, would you guys sign up?) wc:- 2.5k

masterlist

∼⟪◍⟫∼

‘He knew.’ You realised with a sinking heart as his firm eyes searched yours for answers, a hint of disbelief and concern in them. He’d figured it out.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

Everything started out small. It always does.

For you, it started the very day you two met, little by little. You’d needed someone to help you find and retrieve some books from your treasured collection that had gone missing, and good old Detective Heizou was the one assigned to help you.

He didn’t take long to draw you in. The charisma and confidence in his voice, the intelligence and wit sparkling in his eyes with a hint of mischief, the amusement dancing subtly across his face. Everything about him pulled you deeper in. Not to mention, you were incredibly impressed at how efficient he was at his job, despite his carefree, playful attitude- within 24 hours, each and every one of the missing books had been neatly stacked in a pile along with an apology letter from the thief, and Heizou had returned them to you, with that charmingly cocky grin of his. You’d thanked him profusely then, and he’d waved it off as just helping out a bit. He even refused to take payment, insisting that if you really wanted, you could repay him with a nice lunch or dinner.

Since then, your ‘friendship’ with Heizou only grew.with time.The next time you met, it was an accidental encounter in the streets of Inazuma, and then you’d repaid him with that promised lunch. After that, you two just seemed to bump into each other more often, or perhaps you both just noticed each other both. More than a year passed, and you two were fast friends.

Just friends.

You didn’t know when those pesky feelings started to develop, but they did, taking root in your heart like a bug. And your poor heart cracked a bit more everytime Heizou called you his best friend with a grin, or when he casually flirted with random people, your emotions covered with an airy smile that betrayed none of what you felt, unfortunately for you. If only he knew…

∼⟪◍⟫∼

“[Y/NNNN]!” Heizou called over to you with a grin as you stood talking to the owner of one of the flower shops in Inazuma, running over as if to give you some great news. Your heart jumped a bit to see him again, even if it had only been less than a day since you last saw him. “What is it now, ‘Zou?” you chuckled. “Which uncrackable case have you cracked now?” He stopped right in front of you, breathless. “Guess what? Kujou Sara confessed to me! Can you believe it? The high and mighty, proud general Sara?” He was laughing.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to mask your surprise and disappointment. She got there first, huh? “Well? What did you say?” “I said yes, of course. Now boom, we’re dating.” Heizou replied easily.

You took in a deep breath, feeling like a hundred knives had been stabbed into you. But you needed to hide it, because Heizou was still looking at you expectantly, awaiting your response.

You’d always be his best friend. Not his lover.

This cold truth seemed to sink into your heart, as you controlled your facial expressions, making an excited smile that probably seemed very fake to the sharp eyes of someone like Heizou. You quickly followed it up. “Dang, I never thought I’d live to see the day when you actually dated someone! Man alive, am I surprised.” Heizou laughed again, his eyes crinkling, driving the wedge deeper into your heart. “Never thought I would too.” Then looking at his phone, he apparently remembered something as he quickly said, “Oh darn, I totally forgot I had to meet up with a client right now. See ya around, [Y/N]!”

You smiled sadly as he ran away, your heartbreak now visible on your face. You return your attention to the store owner who looks at you curiously. “Sorry, Ma’am, but I won’t be needing the flowers anymore. Could you please cancel my order?” The lady looked at you in sympathy as she nodded, probably having figured out who you were planning to confess to.

Back at home, you suddenly doubled over in a coughing fit, your lungs hurting.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

You’d stayed holed up at home for the next few days. Believe it or not, it actually wasn’t because of your broken heart. You’d fallen ill, and it greatly annoyed you. You kept coughing your throat out, and it wasn’t stopping. You did go about your normal routine for the first few days after Heizou told you, but then it got bad and you started staying home. Your friends often visited you, keeping you company. With their presence, you did seem to get a bit better.

So why was it that Heizou coming over out of concern for you always made you cough more?

One evening, he’d come over like always, with some medicines this time for bad coughs. Looking at his worried face at your deteriorating health, you wondered just how cruel it was for him to be always looking out for you, never knowing what you felt for him or what being with him did to you.

Unfortunately, it was in front of him that your illness grew worse- you started coughing out blood, him panicked and trying to help you.

Once you were temporarily better, he was insistent on staying the night with you to make sure that you didn’t get worse, but you made him leave reluctantly to get some rest. Immediately, you seemed to breathe a bit easier, even though your throat felt like there were vines practically growing in it. With that came an inkling suspicion of why you weren’t getting better. But it couldn’t be that, right?

Then, a week later, you coughed out your first petal, confirming your worst fears.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

Purple hyacinths were known to mean sorrow, longing, etc. 'How fitting.' You thought bitterly as you ruminated upon your less-than-ideal situation. You’d known for a while now that you held strong feelings for Heizou, but you never thought it would actually develop into Hanahaki. Damn it… What do you do now? You had to at least confess to Heizou for a chance at surviving, no matter how slim. But that would be very hard to do, considering he’s literally dating. That thought brought a bitter taste in your mouth. The other option would be to get the surgery, but it would mean removing Heizou from your life for good, but you weren’t quite keen on doing that. If not… You’d die.

No. You would most certainly not allow yourself to die for a failed love. Sure, you really loved him, but there was no point in throwing away your life for someone.

As you were thinking about this, there came a series of soft but strong knocks at your door. With a sigh, you dragged yourself down the stairs to see the visitor, noting that the knocks didn’t sound like Heizou’s or anyone else.

When you see the person at your doorstep, your eyes light up after a long while. “Kokomi!” You exclaim as you run to hug your old friend. You’d been forced to part with her after you shifted from Watatsumi Island to Narukami Island, but you’d regularly kept in touch. Kokomi frowned as you led her into your home. “You’re ill, aren’t you?” “Yes indeed, Doctor Kokomi.” You tried to joke. Kokomi narrowed her eyes at you. “You smell of blood. What sickness do you have? I can heal you.”

You hesitate for a moment, unsure of whether to tell her or not. Not because you don’t trust her- she’s probably your most trusted confidante apart from Heizou, but because you’re a bit afraid of her reaction. With a sigh, you say, “Hanahaki.”

You could see it in the way her eyes fell. “Who is it? Heizou?” She asked, immediately understanding. You sighed in affirmation. “Can you heal me?” This time, it was Kokomi who was hesitant as she responded, “... I do know how to conduct the surgery, but there’s no other way out unless you confess and he accepts.” You grimaced. “Can you please keep this a secret from Heizou for now? I’m still thinking on what to do.” She nodded, looking resigned, but said, ”Alright, but you need to decide fast. To me, it looks like your illness is already quite severe. There is a certain stage beyond which the surgery cannot be conducted and the only option is to confess or die.” You nodded. “Thank you so much, Kokomi.” A while later, after you two had caught up with other topics, she left to go to the hotel she was staying at, giving you her address and telling her to come see you immediately if anything happened, along with some medicines for delaying the growth of the hanahaki.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

While you were chatting with Kokomi, Heizou was flipping through books on diseases and illnesses. Needless to say, he was worried sick on seeing that it had been weeks and your condition had only grown worse.

On a different note, he had just broken up with Kujou Sara that morning. Things just weren’t working out, and he wasn’t interested anyways- he just wanted to try things out. So now, he had more time to find something to cure you.

He groaned as he went through the list of symptoms. He had a feeling that he knew what was wrong with her, but he was too afraid to admit it. ‘Heavy persistent coughs that slowly deteriorate to frequent bloody coughs, along with a feeling of being unable to breathe. In the last stage, which is almost certainly fatal during the later phase, the victim coughs out flower petals symbolic of their situation, along with blood. When the flower petals change into full blooms, the surgery cannot be conducted anymore, and the disease becomes fatal.’

His heart sank- his worst fear had been confirmed. You had hanahaki. He hadn’t yet seen you cough out flower petals though- so there was still time. He’d talk to you about it today, unsure of whether you knew about Hanahaki or not.

He also wondered who it was who was dumb enough to not accept or return your feelings. He would, in a jiffy.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

You sigh a little, enjoying the cool breeze hitting your face after so long. You were going over to pay Kokomi a visit, taking this as an excuse to get out of your house, which had started to feel cramped and stuffy. But of course, your moment of pleasure just had to be interrupted by another bout of flowery coughs as you hurried into some street corner to ensure that no one sees it. As you hurriedly stuff the purple flower petals with red, bloody edges into a bag you were carrying, a voice calls out to you that made dread settle in your heart.

Heizou stands there, staring directly at you and the bloody purple petals in your hands.

‘He knew.’ You realised with a sinking heart as his firm eyes searched yours for answers, a hint of disbelief and concern in them. He’d figured it out.

“You didn’t tell me it had gotten this bad.” Heizou said quietly, stepping closer to you. “I didn’t want you to know.” You murmured a response, looking down at your feet to avoid his stare, his eyes still looking at you in disbelief. “Why? Why, [Y/N], why? Who is this person?”

You gulp under his stare as you debate whether to tell him or not. Yes, you knew he was dating Sara but still… You were on your way to Kokomi’s anyways. The opportunity had presented itself, you should take it.

“It’s you, Heizou. You’re the one I love.” you whisper as you look up to meet his gaze.

You wish you hadn’t. Then you wouldn’t have seen the way the disbelief in his eyes changed into shock, surprise, and denial.

It was clear as day to you- Heizou didn’t return your feelings, you were dumb for thinking you had a chance.

You ran past him straight to Kokomi’s, wanting to escape. On the way, you could feel another round of flowers coming up your throat, but you held them down till you reached your destination.

Meanwhile Heizou stood still, shocked at what had transpired, a hand outstretched in the direction you had ran.

It was him.

As his brain finally processed things, he was still in disbelief and shock. He had been smart enough to figure out that you had hanahaki, but much too dumb to realise who it was directed towards. It was then that he forced his body to run, to search for you.

Late into the night, he still had no idea where you went, as he stood in the desolate streets of Inazuma, hands clenched.

∼⟪◍⟫∼

More than a year had passed since then, and he had no clue of your whereabouts, or if you were even alive or dead. Everytime he thought of you, regret and guilt filled him as he cursed himself out.. If only he’d told her his feelings instead of hiding them like an idiot. If only he’d run after her immediately. If only he’d figured out your feelings faster. If only, if only…

He was in Watatsumi Island for a new case, although his efficiency at work had decreased over the last year. He thought he might as well take some time off for himself, give himself some time to recuperate quietly.

But it seemed fate had other plans for him, as his eyes fell upon a figure in the woods of Watatsumi Island, one more than familiar to him.

His heart jumped into his throat as the figure straightened, then turned to look at him. “...[Y/N]?” He ran towards you to engulf you in a hug, but stopped short on seeing the expression on your face. There was curiosity, but not an inkling of recognition.

Ah. So that’s why he didn’t see you anymore. You’d taken the surgery and moved out.

“Oh, do I know you? May I help you? I see you are new here.” You said with a kind, polite smile, the one that you usually reserved for strangers.

His heart and fists clenched as he realised that you had no idea who he was anymore. As he realised that once again, he was too late.

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