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#the part where he points his finger on the board?
notsosweetchan · 3 days
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Warning: smut (Minors Do Not Interact)
Paring-Hyunjin x reader-
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-Dirty Secret (Teacher AU)
Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a blush crawl up his cheeks as he glanced over the chalkboard, taking a deep breath to calm himself before continuing his lecture. His gaze found the wayward one, making sure to maintain eye contact with her.
She gave him an innocent smile, batting her eyelashes as if nothing was out of the ordinary - but he knew better. Her fingers were restlessly toying with her pen, tapping against it in a way that was all too familiar to him now.
It was hard to ignore the nervous energy radiating off of her, and he couldn't help but wonder what mischief she was planning next.
As he droned on about trigonometry, his eyes drifted back towards her again and again, unable to help themselves.
He watched as she playfully bit on her lower lip while furiously scribbling notes down in her notebook; could almost taste the sweet cherry flavor from where he sat.
The sound of chalk scratching against the board was drowned out by the soft rustling of paper as she flipped through pages and scratched away at words in bright pink ink that matched her cherry lip color perfectly.
Even when she furrowed her brows in concentration or chewed on the end of her pencil thoughtfully, there was an undeniable glimmer in those emerald eyes that betrayed any semblance of focus on the subject matter.
Amidst his lecture, a moment came where Hyunjin paused for emphasis; an opening for Y/to strike. "And that," he said grandly, pointing at an equation on the board behind him, "is how you use trigonometry to calculate angles."
The room full of students went silent for a moment before bursting into chatter once more, but Y/N's heart leaped at the pause in Hyunjin's lecture, feeling a mix of excitement and fear. She had been waiting for this moment.
She glanced up at him from under her lashes, feeling her stomach do flips as their eyes locked. He looked so handsome standing there, chalk dusting his suit but still managing to look put together and professional.
She couldn't help but compare him to the mess she was in; her hair was probably a wild nest on top of her head, strands escaping every which way after the impromptu make-out session earlier. Her cheeks were still flushed pink and her lips felt swollen from their kisses.
Hyunjin cleared his throat, breaking their gaze. Y/N took the opportunity to quickly scribble down some notes before looking back up at him, hoping he wouldn't catch on to her thoughts. The anticipation was killing her as he continued speaking, his voice low yet commanding in the quiet classroom.
His hands moved gracefully on the chalkboard as he drew triangles and circles, their soft scratching sound filling the air like music to her ears. She found herself tracing along with his movements, wishing she could feel the chalk between her fingers instead of just imagining it.
Suddenly, he wrote down an equation that she knew she wouldn't be able to solve alone - not without some guidance from him anyway - and she raised her hand hesitantly.
The sound of chalk on board stopped abruptly as he turned to face her, those deep brown eyes boring into hers. "Yes?" He asked softly. Y/N took a deep breath and shot him a shy smile before pointing at the board. "I don't quite understand this part," she admitted with a small laugh,
"Oh really?" Hyunjin smirked, walking over to her desk with a swish of his pants and a soft clearing of his throat. He leaned down over her shoulder, his breath tickling her neck as he peered over her shoulder at the board.
The warmth of his body against hers sent shivers down her spine, making it harder for her to concentrate on the equation. "Let me show you," he murmured softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.
The scent of her perfume filled his nostrils and made him dizzy with desire. His fingers traced the lines of the equation slowly, explaining it to her in a low voice that only she could hear.
As he went on, he couldn't help but brush against her knuckles or graze the inside of her wrist with his thumb in the guise of pointing things out.
His heart raced just as fast as hers did when their skin touched, sending electric currents shooting up his arm and down hers.
She gasped softly as he lifted his hand away from her skin, their connection broken only by the thin air between them.
Hyunjin chuckled lightly and stepped back, holding himself upright again while continuing to explain the lesson around them.
The rest of the classroom fell silent once more; every eye on them as they watched this exchange – some with envy, others with confusion - but none daring to interrupt them again.
Y/N felt herself blush deeper under their stares but couldn't bring herself to look away from him; those eyes held hers captive like no other could.
Hyunjin couldn't help but feel a wave of satisfaction wash over him as he saw the understanding dawn on her face.
He smiled gently at her, noticing the way her cherry-flavored breaths quickened as he leaned down to whisper the explanation into her ear. The softness of her skin beneath his fingertips sent shivers down his spine, reminding him of the allure and the temptation that lingered between them.
"Of course," he said, stepping back with a smirk on his lips. "Just remember this formula. It's important," he added as an afterthought before glancing around the room once more to make sure everyone was focused again.
The students in the back row whispered among themselves while giggling softly, their eyes flickering between Y/N's flushed cheeks and Hyunjin's satisfied smirk.
His words echoed through the classroom, causing butterflies in Y/N's stomach as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying instead of how close he had been to her just moments before.
As Hyunjin continued his lecture, moving around the room to assist other students who raised their hands, Y/N found herself lost in thought– dreams swirling through her mind along with images of those captivating brown eyes and that gentle touch from earlier.
She couldn't shake off the feeling of anticipation for when class would finally end so they could be alone again. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her desk while she scribbled down notes faster than usual, eager for that moment to come soon enough.
The hour flew by quickly, ending far too soon for both their tastes "Alright class," Hyunjin said, clapping his hands together to gather the students' attention.
“That's all for today. Remember to study hard and ask me or any teaching assistant if you have any questions." The students packed their bags and chatted quietly before leaving the room, but Y/N remained in her seat.
She watched as Hyunjin tidied up the classroom, erasing the equations from the chalkboard with practiced efficiency. “ Don’t you think you were being a bit obvious back there?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes as he turned to face her.
Y/N felt her cheeks warm at his comment, realizing that perhaps she had been a bit too transparent in her feelings towards him. She mustered up her courage and rose from her seat, gathering her things as she walked towards him.
Maybe a little,she admitted with a shy smile, feeling a rush of boldness surge through her. “But can you blame me? You make trigonometry almost bearable.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Hyunjin heard her loud and clear. He chuckled softly, the sound sending pleasant shivers down Y/N’s spine.
“Well, I suppose I can forgive you for that,” he teased, his eyes locking with hers in a way that made her heart flutter. “But you better be careful.
People might start putting two and two together and realizing there's more to our teacher and student dynamic than meets the eye.” His voice lowered, and he took a step closer, his gaze intense as he continued, “Unless... of course, you want them to know.”
The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, each word he spoke adding fuel to the fire that burned inside her. Y/N felt her breath hitch at his insinuation, her mind racing with the possibilities of what could happen if they crossed that line.
She met his gaze head-on, a mixture of desire and apprehension swirling in her eyes.
“Maybe I do want them to know,” she whispered, her voice barely audible in the empty classroom.
The confession hung in the air between them, heavy with implications. Hyunjin's expression softened, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes before he took another step closer, closing the distance between them.
“Careful what you wish for,” he murmured, his breath ghosting over her lips as he leaned in, leaving no room for doubt in his intentions.
The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with desire as they stood inches apart. Y/N's heart raced in her chest, her breath hitching at the proximity of Hyunjin's lips to hers. Every fiber of her being yearned for his touch, for the forbidden thrill of crossing that line with her teacher.
Without another word, Hyunjin closed the final gap between them, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss that sent a shockwave of electricity through her body. Y/N melted into his embrace, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as she deepened the kiss, matching his fervor with her own.
Y/N moaned softly against his lips, feeling the warmth of his mouth against hers. Her body trembled slightly, and she gripped the fabric of his shirt as a deep longing coursed through her veins. As their kiss deepened, time seemed to stand still.
Their tongues danced together, exploring each other's mouths in a way that felt illicit but oh-so-right. Breath mingled with the chalky scent of the classroom, creating an aroma unique to this moment.
Her heart raced wildly as his hands found their way to her waist before slinking upwards to cup her breast through her shirt. She gasped into his mouth, feeling his touch send shockwaves of pleasure down her spine.
Hyunjin couldn't help but let out a low groan, losing himself in the moment. He admired how she bit her lower lip teasingly, matching his boldness with her own growing confidence. He nipped at it playfully before trailing kisses down her neck and collarbone.
The sound of buttons popping loose echoed in the empty room as he undid them one by one until he could finally touch bare skin. His lips trailed lower, finding cherry-flavored sweetness with every new inch he explored.
His hands moved up her thighs Y/N's core clenched at his touch, and she gasped softly, her body begging for more. His hands slid up her skirt, finding the elastic of her panties, and she whimpered into his mouth.
It was intoxicating to be desired like this; to feel his fingers against her skin made her head spin. He pulled away from their kiss picking her up and placing her on his desk with a smirk, leaving her legs dangling over the edge.
Hyunjin kneeled between them and slowly pulled down her panties, revealing her wetness to him. His eyes widened at the sight before him, and he couldn't help but groan in frustration.
"I've been thinking about this all day," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. Y/N smiled, tilting her head back as she felt him gently kiss her inner thigh, making his way closer to her core.
Her breathing became shallower, anticipation building inside her as she waited for what was to come. Hyunjin slowly licked her wetness, tasting her for the first time.
Y/N moaned softly, Arching her back slightly as he pleasured her with his tongue. Each lick, each suction, was sending waves of pleasure through her body, making her heart pound in her chest.
Hyunjin's soft touch sent shivers down Y/N's spine as his tongue found her folds, exploring her in a way that made her toes curl.
His fingers danced softly across her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her. She gasped and arched into his touch, her back bowing off the desk as he teased her. "Oh god," she moaned, her voice trembling with desire.
His lips parted and he took her entrance between his lips, sucking gently as he buried his face in her wet heat. Y/N cried out softly, her hands fisting in his hair as her hips bucked in rhythm to his skilled tongue.
He loved the sound of her moans, the way her body responded to his touch, and he knew that he wanted more. He wanted to feel her beneath him, inside her, to make her scream his name in pleasure.
Y/N's climax was building within her, her entire body tensing as her orgasm approached. She could feel it pulsing through her, making her heart race and her breath come in gasps.
Her body was shaking, on the verge of collapsing in a wave of pleasure that she knew would leave her weak and vulnerable. She knew that she had to release it, to let go and surrender to the sensation that was building within her.
Hyunjin could sense it too, the way her body was trembling and the soft whimpers that escaped her lips. He gently sucked on her clit, feeling the pulsing throb of her desire as she came, milking it softly.
Y/N's cries of pleasure echoed through the empty classroom, each one making him harder. Hyunjin looked up at her in ecstasy, his own arousal evident as he admired her flushed face and trembling body.
He pulled his lips away from her core, and she whimpered in protest. "Shh," he whispered soothingly, pushing himself up from the desk and removing his tie and loosening his belt.
"I want to feel you wrapped around me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.
Y/N could barely breathe as she watched him unbutton his shirt, her breaths coming in short, needy gasps.
Her eyes locked onto the bulge that pressed against his pants, and she knew they wouldn't be the only ones coming undone tonight.
Hyunjin stepped closer to her, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Y/N watched him, her heart pounding in her chest as she waited for what was to come.
He stood between her legs, guiding himself inside her slowly, slowly until he was fully buried within her. She gasped, her head falling back as he filled her completely.
"You feel so good," he groaned, holding back the urge to thrust hard into her. He wanted to savor this moment, to feel her tight warmth surrounding him.
Y/N wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer, and he began to move slowly, steadily at first, building up a rhythm. His hips rocked into her, and she moaned softly, her body adjusting to his.
Y/N's eyes locked onto his, and she could see the raw desire in them. They were both lost in this moment, in each other. Hyunjin's gaze never left hers as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder and more forceful.
Y/N's breath hitched with each powerful stroke, her body responding to his with a fiery need that surprised her. She moaned softly, her fingers digging into his back as he moved inside her.
Hyunjin's eyes never left hers, a mixture of lust and adoration reflected in their depths. “Hyunjin , please…” the breathless plea was all he needed. He increased the tempo, his body slamming into hers with a raw intensity that had her crying out in pleasure.
Her head thrashed from side to side, her lips parted in a silent scream as his hips moved faster, harder. He could feel his own release building, the tension within him coiling tighter with each thrust.
"I'm gonna come," he growled, his voice hoarse with desire. Y/N's eyes squeezed shut, her body convulsing with the same need.
Hyunjin grunted, slamming into her one last time before releasing himself, emptying himself inside her.
As his release spilled into her, Y/N felt a wave of pleasure wash over her, her body bucking against his one last time before collapsing back onto the desk.
She gasped for air, her heart pounding in her chest, her body still shaking from the intensity of the experience.Hyunjin's breath hitched as he struggled to catch his own breath,panting, his body still trembling from the release.
He gently pulled out of her, and she whimpered softly, feeling the emptiness left by his absence. He carefully lowered her back to the ground, his hands lingering on her skin for a moment longer before he cupped her face and brought his lips to hers.
Their tongues danced and twined together, their passion and satisfaction mingled in one last kiss.
Y/N broke away, her eyes wide with wonder as she looked up at him. "Hyunjin," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper.
He smiled at her, his eyes soft and full of love. "I know, Y/N." He replied, his voice filled with the same emotion. "I know."
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ahockeywrites · 1 day
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the service
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pairing: aurelia mcavoy x trent frederic word count: 2.5k warnings: swearing, it’s my fic, there’s always swearing authors note: hello and welcome to another series that I hope I can finish (lol). hope you all enjoy!
Trent pushed open the door to the garage, feeling as though he was somewhere that he shouldn’t be. Charlie had recommended this garage as it had the best reviews for Porsche maintenance and was where he took his car. But it didn’t seem right. All he had to do was see if ‘Peanut’ worked here and if he did, then he would know if he was in the right place.
A gruff looking man with white hair and a long beard sat behind the counter and now Trent felt as though he really shouldn’t be here.
“Charlie McAvoy said I should come here for my car’s service?” He weakly asked, really feeling as though he was in the complete wrong part of town.
“Freddy with a Porsche?” He man behind the desk asked, after flicking through a few pages of the large diary that sat in front of him.
Trent nodded, feeling slightly more relaxed that be was definitely in the right place and that Charlie hadn’t sent him on a wild goose chase around the city. That wouldn’t be the craziest thing to happen to him. 
When he was a rookie in Providence, the older players told him that they were having after game drinks at a bar. A bar that didn’t exist in Rhode Island. It was in California. Trent was pissed but ended up channeling his anger into a fight in the following game.
“Peanut will be with you in a moment, they’re just finishing up on a vintage 911,” the man explained.
Fuck, a vintage 911. How Trent wished he could own one of them but the upkeep on it would be more than he could handle. Especially when he had no clue about cars. But fuck, if he knew someone who knew their way around a car, his first purchase would be a vintage 911.
“Okay,” Trent replied, swinging his car keys around his finger as he wandered over to the notice board on the other side of the reception. The Bruins key ring hit against the plastic of his car key as he kept himself distracted waiting for Peanut.
“Freddy with a Porsche Cayenne?” A distinctly feminine voice with a strong Boston accent called out into the reception. Trent looked around, realised he was the only person in the room and then figured out that it was for him. 
“That’s me,” he replied, spinning around to be greeted with a short woman with an imposing stature. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail behind her and Trent had no inclination of who she was except for the name Peanut. That surely couldn’t have been her name. But it was the name that was stitched into her dark blue overalls. 
“I’m Aurelia but everyone here calls me Peanut. You met Gramps,” she pointed at the older man sat behind the counter, who offered Trent a wave. “It’s dad and I who are working today but occasionally you’ll get Adam who’s my brother working when he’s not at collage.”
Trent just nodded, that was more of an info dump that he expected from his mechanic but it really did feel like a family run business the way they treated him.
“Sorry for the run down,” Peanut apologised,  most people here are regulars and know all of us. But you’re new, so you get the speed rundown. So, your Cayenne, what we needing for it?”
The hockey player thought for a moment. Why did he actually come here again? Oh crap yeah.
“Just a yearly service,” Trent got out, slightly in awe of the pretty girl standing in front of him. She was beautiful, he hoped that Charlie hadn’t mentioned this garage to any of the other players as he wanted to call dibs on her. Well, if that was still a thing that people did.
“I can’t sweet talk you into an engine upgrade, car wrap or new rims?” Peanut giggled as she headed out to the front where Trent had parked his car.  
You could sweet talk me into anything, he thought but did say that. He just apologised and reaffirmed his need for a service and nothing else. 
Peanut shook her head in mock disgust. “Damn, I always try that with the cute ones and it never works,” she laughed once more as she squatted down to look at the brake discs and callipers for a quick first inspection. “Left hand side looks good, from first glance but let me check the right.” 
Peanut zipped around to the other side and did the same tyre and brake check confirming her initial thoughts that there probably wouldn’t be anything wrong with them. 
“Looks like you don’t need new tyres but I can’t confirm that until I properly check them,” Peanut smiled. “So I’ll just need your keys and it should be a few hours.”
“Sounds good, do you need my number?” Trent asked, not realising how it sounded.
“Well,” Peanut raised an eyebrow, “my personal phone is missing the number of an attractive Porsche driver.” 
A faint blush tinted the hockey player’s cheeks as it clicked in his head what he said and how it could be interpreted.
“Not like that,” he quickly backtracked, not wanting to make it seem as though he wasn’t interested but he was. He had placed himself in a sticky situation.
“Don’t worry,” Peanut explained. “Gramps will take your details before I drive it around the back. He’ll also explain how much it’ll cost. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to move my car out of the way.”
Peanut skipped back to the garage and opened the roller shutter doors. A white Porsche 911 Carrera from 1973 backed out of the opening and the same person who he was envious of earlier happened to be Peanut as she reversed out of the garage and into a spot on the side of the road.
She jumped out of the driver’s side door and invited Trent back inside to fill in all the paperwork that they needed before they could get started on servicing the car. 
“Right, I’ll leave you with Gramps to get all the boring stuff sorted and I’ll be in the back, see you later!” Peanut waved and stormed through the door at a speed that had Trent concerned for the door.
“Don’t worry about my granddaughter, she’s always had this sort of energy,” the man that Peanut called Gramps explained. “That will be 300 dollars for the service and if Peanut finds anything else, it’s labour hours plus parts. All good?”
Trent nodded again before handing his keys over to Gramps and calling an Uber to take him back.
“You’ll call me when it’s good to pick up, yeah?” Trent asked, just making sure that he knew what was going on.
“Sure thing,” Gramps replied. “Should be done sometime this afternoon, provided no hiccups.” Trent nodded in appreciation before making his way outside to jump in the Uber to head back to his place.
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Trent sat in front of his monitor, playing a solo game. He didn’t want to risk being involved in an online game with some of his teammates when he got the call to pick up his car. He felt limited in what he could do as Tuesday afternoons were usually the days he went food shopping, as long as he was in the city and not on a road trip. It was a slight change to his routine.
The doorbell went and Trent paused. He wasn’t expecting anyone or any deliveries so it must have been one of the guys. But why would any of them be visiting him on a random Tuesday afternoon?
He stood up and walked across to look through the peephole. Charlie was stood outside his door, hands in his pockets looking awkward. Trent had no idea why the defenceman was at his apartment when he knew Trent’s car was at the shop.
Trent opened the door and Charlie barrelled his way into the Boston apartment. He walked straight over to the kitchen, grabbed a glass for himself, filled it with water and drank the whole thing in one go. Water dripped from Charlie’s mouth but he quickly used his sleeve to wipe it away.
“You okay?” Trent asked, very confused as to what had just happened.
“Please tell me why my cousin just called me to say that Fit Freddy’s car is ready and that I should bring him to the garage?” Charlie growled, slightly concerned at what Aurelia had said on the phone. “And why she really wants your number?”
“It might help if I knew who your cousin is?” Trent replied, trying to make sense of the situation. He was racking his head to see if he knew an Aurelia. 
“Aurelia McAvoy, short, dark hair, sounds like she was raised in a barn?” Charlie explained, hands flailing around as though he couldn’t keep control of them. “You know, the cousin I consider a younger sister?”
Trent still looked confused. He didn’t know any Aurelia McAvoy… wait…
“You mean the mechanic?” Trent questioned. “Your cousin is Peanut?”
“Yes!” Charlie exclaimed. “My cousin is Aurelia. You went to my grandfather’s garage and my cousin is the one who has fixed up your car and supposedly given you the friends and family discount that no one outside of the actual family gets?”
Trent could see steam coming out of his teammates ears as he tried to make sense of the situation and also diffuse it. Playing mediator wasn’t his usual role on the team but he needed to today.
“Charlie,” Trent started, “I don’t know why she said that but if my car is ready to pick up. Maybe we should go and grab that.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Charlie responded before grabbing his keys from his pocket. “Let’s head out, see if Gramps can explain what’s going on. Fucking hope he can.”
The drive to the suburbs was painful for both hockey players. Charlie was still fuming that Trent had been flirting with his cousin, he couldn’t have Aurelia dating one of his teammates. As much as he loved his teammates, he did not want any of them dating someone he considered a second sister. Aurelia could absolutely deal with one of the Bruins, but she deserved better in his head. 
Trent was slightly annoyed that Charlie thought he was flirting with his cousin. He didn’t intend to flirt with her and if he did, he was only responding to her flirting. Maybe she flirted with all the customers to try and get as many extras sorted as possible. That had to be it. She must also have been riling up Charlie. This could be one of the things they did growing up and Trent was now just a pawn in their game. 
The drive was quiet, just the sounds of a local radio station in the background. But Trent could see that Charlie’s ears were still red so he was still angry. 
Charlie turned the steering wheel and parked up outside the garage. He had tried to use the drive to calm down but it really didn’t help. It didn’t help when the recipient of his anger was in the enclosed space with him.
“Let’s get this shit over with,” he muttered under his breath before opening his door and then slamming it shut. Trent followed suit but didn’t use the same amount of force as his counterpart. 
Charlie stormed his way into the reception area of the garage and Trent was hot on his heels. He just wanted his car back, he didn’t want to get in the middle of a McAvoy family argument, but it seemed like he would.
Aurelia looked up from over the counter to see her cousin looking at her with angry looking eyes. Crap, she thought, have I gone too far with this one? It was no secret that she fancied Trent, but it was something she didn’t want to share with Charlie as his rule since he started playing hockey was that she couldn’t date any of his teammates or opponents. Which she understood at the start when they were all teenagers. 
But then he started playing in the big leagues. And he was playing against Mat Barzal, Nathan MacKinnon and Sidney Crosby. The latter was the first player that Aurelia had on her wall when she used to play hockey, before she moved onto racing cars. 
But Trent was Charlie’s teammate. One of Charlie’s friends. Charlie was the one who took Trent under his wing and showed him around the city. Trent was also the only teammate who Charlie had sent to her garage. Well, Patrice Bergeron had also been there, but he was no longer a teammate to her cousin.
“What can I do for you, dear Charles?” Aurelia asked as she stood up, spinning Trent’s car keys on her index finger, just to provoke her cousin slightly more. 
“Trent is here for his car,” Charlie pointed to the forward standing next to him. “Gramps can show him the car. You and I need a little chat.” Aurelia rolled her eyes but handed the keys across to Gramps who took Trent out to the back to explain the costs and how much he owed.
It was silent and the tension between Charlie and Aurelia was high.
“Peanut,” Charlie groaned as he ran a hand through his locks. “Please tell me you didn’t give him a friends and family discount?”
“What if I did?” She retaliated before popping a piece of chewing gum into her mouth. “He’s a friend of yours, so he’s a friend of mine. You didn’t get like this when I gave the discount to Bergy?”
“You gave the discount to Bergy?” Charlie questioned. “That’s the first I’ve heard of this.”
“Whoops,” Aurelia shrugged. “So what, I’ve had a crush on Freddy since he fought Tanev. Makes sense I’d give the guy I fancy a discount, right?”
“Fucks sake,” Charlie had to sit down to control himself. “You fancy Freddy? That’s breaking rule one.”
“No,” countered Aurelia. “Breaking rule one would be if I started dating him.” She blew a large bubble with the gum in her mouth. “Today is the first time I’ve met him. Did I flirt with him? Yes, I mean who wouldn’t. Would I date him? If you let me get to know him, yes.”
Charlie opened his mouth to speak but Aurelia raised his hand to shut him up.
“But do I trust your opinion and reasoning as to why you don’t want me dating your teammates? Yeah, I do.” 
Charlie understood where Aurelia was coming from. She wasn’t the young girl he remembered. She was 25 now. Ran the family business and had a successful racing career on the side. 
“Peanut,” Charlie started. “I just wanna protect you. I won’t give you Freddy’s number just yet.” To that she rolled her eyes. “But if a load of us are hanging out with our partners and you’re free, I’ll invite you. How does that sound?”
“Significantly better than keeping me in my own bubble,” she replied. “Can I go and get Freddy sorted now? And can you fuck off until family dinner.”
“You got it peanut, just don’t make too many mistakes.”
Aurelia saluted before tacking her cousin before he was ready and took him down to the ground.
“Pfft,” she exclaimed. “NHL defender my ass.”
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blue-rick24 · 5 months
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GUYS GET DOWN HERE LET’S GET ON THIS ‼️‼️‼️ MORT: RAGNARICK COLD OPEN }!!!!
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
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hellooo, i hope you’re doing well! would you want to write a fic where at some point aaron steals readers gum out of her mouth? this is such a random thought and i’m so sorry if this sounds weird (now that i’ve written it down and not only thought about it, it seems very weird, sorry!!!!!!), but i kind of feel like this is something he’d do when making out lol and it obviously catches her off guard the first time he does it 😁
according to plan
omg i'm putting a jealous!aaron take on this 🤭 cw; suggestiveness, established relationship, bau!reader, detective being a creep, heavy on the kissing, possessive/jealous!aaron 🦋
aaron's just about had it.
it started out as lingering stares, beginning at your face before sweeping all along your form. next, the insistent eagerness to partner up with you. and now the detective, who's name wasn't worth remembering, was at your backside, itching to get as close to you as he possibly could. any closer, he would have you pressed against the bulletin board in front of the two of you.
you were politely trying to explain the physical, common characteristics between the victims, how unsubs sometimes had a specific type and that's why they chose to acquire them. naturally he had asked you the most stupid, simplest question; just another excuse to speak to you.
all day, aaron had been silently seething, a mere bystander. but as he joined and saw the sight before him, his fists clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into the palms of his hands. enough was enough.
"do you understand now?" you naively asked, a pleased expression forming on your face when the detective nodded in confirmation. unlike aaron, you had been unaware of his ongoing actions.
"is there any way i can repay you?" he questioned smoothly, his eyes yet again dropping. this time, the attentiveness is drawn to your lips.
"no," you shake your head, your focus already directed on readjusting one of the displayed photos, the gum in your mouth producing a pop. "i'm just glad i could be of some assistance."
it's a bad habit of yours, snapping your gum too loudly. it's hard to not notice it. but fortunately, the brought focus is about to work completely in aaron's favor.
aaron calls your name, tipping his head to the side as a signal for you to come. you abide, leaving the detective right where he is and as a result, he subtly glares at aaron for interrupting his time with you and his advances. aaron steps aside to let you pass, and as soon as you do, he shoots daggers right back.
truthfully, he's extremely lucky that's all aaron did.
you follow him to one of the empty interrogation rooms, a small trek away from everyone else. once inside, aaron swiftly shuts the door behind you.
"what's-"
aaron's lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, causing you to gasp slightly in surprise, throwing your arms around his neck and instantly kissing him back.
it's all too easy to submit to aaron, allowing him to guide you and push you back against the door. he crowds you against it, his breath hot and heavy in your mouth, his hands exploring every curve of your body and more. every inch of you, is consumed by him.
the kiss is heated, desperate, and in the back of your mind, you distantly wonder why the suddenness - what has gotten into him? but with the pure vigor he's kissing you with, your brain had gone fuzzy; you were too consumed by the kiss to dwell on the potential reason why, or did you care.
aaron's large hands slide down your back, landing on and promptly squeezing your ass - hard. you gasp again, and aaron uses the sudden part of your lips to push his tongue into your mouth, sliding against your own. he can taste it - the flavor of your gum - and it only encourages him further, deepening the kiss.
you can't help let out a small moan, which aaron immediately swallows up from you, mindful of your volume within the current setting. your fingers find the nape of his neck, weaving and gripping onto his hair tight.
the kiss itself is wet and sloppy - all according to plan. and once the mint flavor fully invades his mouth, aaron forces himself to pull away.
and before it becomes impossible not to.
your eyes are wide as you look up at him. your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the intensity of the kiss. you let out a breathless laugh, chest heaving up and down. "wow. i..."
you trail off, your tone leading into more or less a question. aaron leans in once more, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to your lips this time. "just missed you."
you take instant note of the slight, new shift of his jaw, which prompts you to realize something from your mouth is missing.
you gape at him, jaw dropping a bit in astonishment. "wait, did you take my gum?"
aaron's way of a response is opening the door, a small nudge of his head gesturing for you to exit. "after you."
you give him a confused look, yet your eyes are still dark and lined with arousal, before heading back to the others. a deep exhale leaves you as you walk away, an attempt to cool down before facing anyone else.
this time, when the detective's stare returns to you both, aaron's the one loudly snapping the gum.
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hyewka · 3 months
Text
—what a loser! | c.bg
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୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.
୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic
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“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.
“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”
He ignores you.
You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”
There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.
Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.
Look where you are now.
“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”
His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.
He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.
Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”
“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.
That wiped off the cocky demeanour.
“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”
He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.
“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.
“Yeah.”
You blink confused. “What?”
“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.
“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.
“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.
Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.
A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—
A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”
And that was your last straw.
The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.
That’s the more…reasonable explanation.
The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.
The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.
Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.
“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.
His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not actually the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”
You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.
Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again, but you have your hands on his chest to stop him.
The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.
If his next words are any indication. “Hey, hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”
You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise if you respected me you wouldn’t have spread those rumors about me.”
He huffs out a laugh, the biggest reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.
“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”
You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”
He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”
“But-"
“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.
“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”
You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?
“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”
His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”
You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”
He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”
He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”
A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”
You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.
This isn’t worth it.
You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be good for me pup.” He whines at that.
Beomgyu doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair because suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.
“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”
He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.
You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.
When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.
Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would surely guarantee your place in hell.
“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”
He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”
The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.
There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.
You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.
“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.
He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?
You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.
We’re over, bye.
I’ll go home now, don’t call me.
I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.
I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.
“Don’t leave me.”
…That has you snap out of your reverie.
His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.
You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.
“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”
You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"
Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."
You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.
But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”
Of course you give in. Again.
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୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏
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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months
Text
goal // hockey!chris
summary: your boyfriend gets in a fight during his hockey game
part two
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“SHIT!” I scream as the opposing team launches the puck into the goal. With some miracle, it’s pulled to the side goalpost, keeping the score at 2-2. 
I relax in my seat with my best friend sitting next to me, her tension releasing just as much as mine, maybe more, considering her boyfriend is the goalie. 
I watch as my boyfriend skates back onto the ice, tapping his stick three times to get my attention. 
I love you. 
I smile at him, watching as he races across the ice and steals the puck from his opponent. 
In retaliation, that player slams Chris into the boards in front of me. My eyes widen at the sound of the impact, but my boyfriend skates backwards unscathed. 
“We still on for dinner tonight?” he asks me in the middle of his game. 
I nod, trying my best not to distract him. 
We met when my best friend took me to her boyfriend's hockey banquet. It was hard not to be captivated by Chris. He checked all the right boxes and captured my attention with ease. I wanted to know everything about him.
We talked the whole night, then hung out in groups until we finally had the courage to go on a proper date. He kissed my cheek when he dropped me off at my apartment across our college campus, a complete sweetheart in the palm of my hands. 
We started dating after a few months, taking everything really slow, especially with the chaos of our own college schedules and him having to travel for his games. 
Chris skates next to his brothers, Sturniolo stitched into three jerseys standing next to each other as their coach speaks with them during their timeout. 
I look at Chris’ hand, sticking out behind him. He has his hand out with his middle and ring finger down, signing I love you.
“You guys are just too cute, aren’t you?” my best friend teases me. 
My cheeks burn red, a smile on my face that I can’t shake off. 
A power play is set up right next to where we’re sitting. I always find this so interesting. I can hear everything the players say to each other. 
“Who’s little girlfriend is there in the green?” someone says. 
I know they’re talking about me, so I immediately scan Chris’ face to see what he says. He doesn’t respond, but his jaw is locked and his eyes are burning into the other player. 
I watch Chris’ brother, Matt, charge into our view, stealing the puck away and attempting to shoot. It’s another lost cause. This goalie has saved the last 10 shots. 
“Oh, Jesus,” my friend groans. “Look at Chris.”
I scan the ice for my boyfriend, finding the number 3 and following his every move. He follows the player with the last name Hart like a shark. I can’t hear anything, but I can see the anger on Chris’ face, and the humor on Hart’s. Finally, I watch Chris hit his breaking point. 
With seven minutes left in the game, Chris races across the ice to Hart, despite the fact that his other brother, Nick, is already playing defense on him. Chris slides in front of his brother, cross-checking Hart. 
“Are you kidding me?!” I hear a shout from behind me. 
Eventually, the area around us erupts in cheers. Students from our school rise on their feet, jumping up and down, cheering on Chris as he picks a fight. 
Sticks are thrown, and the referees stand in shock as Chris lays sprawled on top of Hart, regaining his balance before throwing punches at his helmet. 
My heart is pounding, but I know better than to react and embarrass him. He knows how to be safe on the ice, and he knows his limits way better than I do. Not to mention, everyone loves Chris. Our school gathers just for him and his brothers, cheering them on at every game. The last thing I want is to embarrass him or his reputation. 
“I’LL KILL YOU!” Chris roars, and at that, the referees finally get involved. It’s useless. While two referees hold onto him, another player from the opposing team runs up to defend Hart, throwing a punch at Chris’ jaw. 
“Hey!” I find myself jumping up and yelling. I watch as the blood starts to pour from Chris’ nose, and now that there’s blood involved, I feel every bit of anxiety bubbling up in my chest. “Someone do something!”
Chris continues to get nailed, slurring out profanities as he expresses his anger. 
“Do NOT talk about her!” he screams one last time as he’s dragged off the ice, his brothers eyeing down everyone else in case it’s their turn to throw a punch. 
“Christopher Sturniolo, five minute penalty for fighting,” an announcer says over the speaker, repeating the same spiel for Hart. 
I grab my bag and stand from the bleachers. “I’m gonna go meet him outside the locker room.”
I say goodbye to everyone and head to the locker room, wanting to know more about this fight, but more importantly, that he’s okay. 
About 20 minutes later I see Chris walking with his coach, his nose mixed with some fresh and some dried blood. When his coach notices me standing outside of the locker room, picking at my fingers, he says, “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice.”
Chris nods, walking right past me and into the locker room. I’ve already seen everyone else leave, so I know it’s safe to go in, but seeing that he completely ignored me, I don’t think a few guys in there would be enough to keep me from entering. 
“So you’re just picking fights and ignoring me now?” I scoff. 
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles, tearing his padding off and shoving it into his hockey bag. 
I watch as he pulls his shirt off, his toned back facing me. 
I find myself becoming embarrassingly distracted and forgetting what I’m actually in here for.
“Do you still want dinner?” I ask quietly, my voice timid. 
Chris sighs and places his hands on the sides of his locker, the muscles in his back tensing. “Where do you want to go?”
I shrug even though I know he can’t see me. It’s like I’m too nervous to say anything in case he gets mad at me over something that happened during the game. 
When I don’t answer, he turns around, finding nothing but concern painted all over my face. 
He sighs again, this time one that tells me that he’s sorry without actually saying it. His arms wrap around me, his bare chest bracing my clothed one. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into my hair as he kisses my head. 
“What happened?” 
He breathes out a laugh, tossing his shirt into his locker. “Johnny Hart happened, that piece of shit.” 
I don’t ask for more information. The dam has now broken and I know the water carrying the information is going to come flooding in. 
“He’s known for being a top tier trash talker, but it takes it way too fucking far,” he tells me. “I mean, talking about my family, my girlfriend–Fuck!”
I flinch at the sound of him shouting. “What did he say about me?”
He shakes his head. 
“Tell me,” I plead. 
“No!” he shouts again. “God, just– Go wait outside. I’ll be out in a minute and we can go get something to eat.”
“I want to know what he said!” 
“He’s a dick! Go wait outside,” he demands, but my feet are planted to the floor. I refuse to back down. “Are you seriously going to do this?”
“Yes!” I argue. 
“Fine!” he gives in. He takes a deep breath. “He was just saying disgusting things about you the whole time. Talking about your legs, how he wanted to see what you had under your pants.” I watch as his jaw tightens again. “He said he wanted to see if he could make you wetter than I can. That he would take you after the game and pin you against his car… Is that enough for you?”
I can see his face turning red, his anger bleeding out of him. It’s at this moment that I can also see that his face is still a bloody mess, and that matters more to me than what some idiot on the other team has to say about me. 
Without a word, I walk to the sinks, grab a rag that has been folded up and get it damp with warm water. I motion for Chris to sit down on a bench in front of his locker, and when he does, I start gently dabbing his mouth with the rag. 
He gives me a soft smile, and as cute as that is, my focus is on his bloody teeth. 
“Oh, baby,” I mumble. I find a bottle of water buried in his bag so he can rinse his mouth, and continue cleaning his face. “Are your hands okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums. “Had my gloves on.” 
I nod, remaining silent as I wipe the blood from his mouth and give him somewhere to spit the bloody water. 
“Coach is pissed,” he laughs lightly. 
“I’m not surprised.”
“He was already getting on me about my grades, and with this… I gotta get it together or he’s benching me.”
We both know that his coach will fight anyone to make sure Chris stays on the starting team. He’s the best player this college has seen in years.
“I can tutor you again,” I offer. “I have time before work on Friday’s.”
He shakes his head at me. “I don’t want to put that on you.” 
“I wouldn’t have offered if it would have been an inconvenience.”
He nods, then rests his hands on my waist, eventually pulling my wrists down to remove my hands from his face. 
“I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. 
“I know.”
“I just…” his voice trails off. “I can’t stand it when they do that shit. I know you’re a catch because… come on,” he motions his hands at me, making me laugh. “I just can’t sit there and pretend like I’m not bothered by it.” 
“I get it,” I assure him, trying to relieve the part of him that feels like he’s letting people down. “Let’s just get those grades up and try to tone back on the fighting, okay?”
He nods, this time smiling with a lot less blood in his teeth. He pulls me down to his level, resting me on his lap before holding my cheeks and kissing me gently. “I love you.”
A smile grows on my face. “I love you more.”
His eyes go wide. “Enough to fight Hart’s girlfriend for me?”
I let out a short laugh. “Let’s go get something to eat.” 
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ozzgin · 3 months
Text
Yandere! Yakuza x Reader (V)
In a rather unlucky turn of events, you find yourself kidnapped for being in the wrong place during a gang war. Worry not, your yakuza boyfriend is at your service. Yet another bloody reason not to mess with him.
Content: female reader, organized crime, violence, gore, obsessive behavior
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5]
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"Damn it!"
The scarred man throws another tile into the pile, clicking his tongue.
"I gotta say, you're pretty good for a foreigner." A second man with an eyepatch remarks, carefully inspecting his set before retrieving a tile of his own. "Pung."
You take another greedy sip of the cheap sake and slam the little cup back on the table.
"Kind of inevitable to learn mahjong when your only friends in this country are yakuza." You look up towards your captor with a frown. "You guys ever heard of board games or something?"
"Try to explain new rules to this dumbass!" A third man angrily pours himself another glass, pointing towards the first. "Fuck, I could iron clothes on that smooth brain of yours!"
"Fuck off, you're not any better." The scarred man continues his turn with furrowed brows. 
"If I were you I'd keep quiet about being pals with the yakuza. They'll question you, too, after the office guy. Don't make it worse." The man wearing an eyepatch mentions in a lowered voice. The table suddenly goes quiet.
"When is he coming out?" You ask hesitantly, bile pooling in your mouth. You already suspect the answer.
"He's not. Bodies are discarded through the back entrance." He pats the ash off and takes another drag off his cigarette. 
You swallow. 
Being involved with the Triad was not part of your new year resolutions, yet here you are about to be interrogated by the local Chinese syndicate. At least the lackeys have taken pity on you, a poor civilian caught in the middle of their rivalry. Hence the fake sense of normalcy as you chitchat at the mahjong table with a cup of sake to ease your wrecked nerves. 
"I'm guessing they won't be as friendly back there." You nod towards the door, where they took your work superior several hours ago. 
"No." 
That's all you get and you can only smile bitterly. Huh. You wonder if this is how Daitou's victims feel, helplessly waiting for whatever is brought upon them. Having to watch him unwrap his tool belt, stuffed with rusty old tools littered in blotches of dried up blood. Pondering his questions while he eyes the row delectably, hovering his hand over the potential ways to loosen up your tongue.
Would they torture you, too? Hopefully not. It should be rather obvious you're just a mere civilian. Then again, if your work superior mentioned anything about you being Daitou's girlfriend...He's never told you anything downright incriminating, but it'll be hard to convince these fellows that you truly are clueless.
Maybe they'll let you go if you offer your finger as a token of peace. Your forehead wrinkles at the thought. Isn't it more of a Japanese custom anyways? And if they say yes, then what? Do they provide you with the required utensils or are you expected to improvise on the spot?
You remember one of Daitou's seniors describing the process in great detail during the Christmas party. You had asked him about it, purely out of curiosity, and he certainly delivered almost more than your stomach was able to handle (Daitou scolded him later for telling you too much). You take the tatami mat and preferably wrap it in cloth, to soak up the blood. Any sharp blade will do, but traditionally you'd be offered a proper tantō that can easily slice through the bone. Obviously you want to cut as little as possible, so you still have some functionality remaining. Right above the joint. You must put all of your body weight into the thrust, otherwise the cut won't be clean and it turns into a mess. 
Hell. You wipe the cold beads of sweat that have formed on your face. You can barely chop an onion. Maybe one of the gangsters has enough experience and goodwill to offer to do it for you. Then you only have to clench your teeth and prepare for the blow. It can't be that bad. Surely the shock will be too great, and your brain won't even register it. Before you know it, they'll dip your hand in ice and rush you to someone fit to perform the aftercare. Yeah. That should to the trick. 
"Hey, foreigner. It's your turn."
"Leave her be, can't you see she's pale?"
You glance up and notice the men looking at you expectantly. They've already showed you plenty of kindness from the moment they shoved you in that black van with the rest of the office workers. Perhaps you can rely on them one final time. You suddenly bow, head pressing against the table. They're somewhat startled by your gesture. 
"I'm deeply sorry to ask, but might any of you be knowledgeable in blades?"
"H-huh? What for?"
You ceremoniously slam your hand onto the table, rattling the mahjong tiles. You struggle to let the words out, but try to maintain a straight face, picturing Shozo Hirono's cool attitude when he performed the deed himself in Battles without Honor and Humanity. 
"Would your Boss be satisfied with a yubitsume? I cannot offer anything else of use."
You feel a harsh hand smack against the back of your neck and you cough, taken out of your focus.
"Dumbass! What the hell are you talking about? Why would our Boss need the finger of a civilian, and a woman on top of that? 笨人!" The man with an eyepatch is red and flustered as he scolds you. The other two are holding back their snickers, amused by the scene.
"Let her! I have a knife on me right now." The scarred man comments with a grin. "Whaddaya say, kid? Or have you changed your mind already?"
"A man never goes back on his word." You bark and straighten your back, crossing your arms imposingly. 
The eyepatch man smacks you again and the other two begin clapping, terribly entertained by your tomfoolery. 
The spectacle doesn't last long. Within seconds, you jump out of your seat at the sound of rapid gunshots and scattered, erratic shouts.
Daitou bows before his Seniors and mumbles a polite, monotonous greeting. It's highly unusual to have the Lieutenants gathered at the office like this. Kazuya is fidgeting in his seat, Boss is away on a trip. What else could require everyone's immediate attendance? He makes his way to the blonde man and drops himself on the sofa, awaiting the details. 
"Wakasugi has been taken."
A chaotic murmur ensues. 
"He's been making offers for a building in a neutral area. That's where the Chinese sell their drugs and they claim it to be their turf. I hear some of our newbies got caught dealing that shit as well. Boss has been at their throats for some time now and this is their way to say fuck you."
Ah. More gang rivalry drama. Daitou presses his lips together, trying his best to hold back a yawn threatening to escape his mouth. Hopefully they'll leave him out of it, he has a date planned with you and he'd rather not show up reeking of rotten flesh. 
If you get kidnapped, think of yourself as already dead. The Yakuza doesn't negotiate. They just get their revenge tenfold. Unless it's someone important, like the Boss himself, the honorable way is to die without betraying your Family. 
"Just put a few bullets in them. Should teach them a lesson." He says while stretching. 
"Yeah, we're sending Oota and his men to deal with it. Just be on the lookout." One of the Seniors responds. 
"Still, the fucking guts on them. To show up at the office, right before our eyes-" Another man cries out, frustration in his voice.
"What did you say?" 
Kazuya flinches. He knows where this is going and he glares at the outraged yakuza, trying to silence him. Sadly he doesn't take the hint.
"Right? They just waltzed in, shot some of our guys and took Wakasugi and whoever was nearby. Heh, what are they gonna do with a bunch of office assistants? Extra weight to carry to the dump."
"Enough!" Kazuya's exasperated yell causes everyone to quiet down.
There are several confused looks being exchanged before everyone's eyes eventually rest on Daitou, now staring ahead motionless. Didn't his girlfriend work at that office? The Senior giving out the initial order has realized the mistake. He quickly clears his throat and is about to speak, but Daitou abruptly stands up and heads for the door.
"Oi! I said we're leaving it to Oota. This isn't your job." 
He tries to repeat his words with confidence, but his voice falters towards the end when faced with Daitou's massive frame. Particularly the barrel that's now pressing into his forehead.
"Mind your fucking business or I'll kill you right here." Daitou threatens.
"D-don't think Boss will help you out of this one, brat. If you go, you're disobeying your Senior."
The tall yakuza smirks mockingly. 
"See if you can run for Boss with your skull split open, bitch."
Kazuya slaps the gun aside and steps between the men.
"Just let him go. I'll take responsibility." He pleads, his friend already slamming the door behind him. 
Once the aggressor has left, everyone exhales discreetly in relief.
"He'll get us in trouble with the cops." The Senior retorts to the blonde in a berating tone.
"What else do you suggest? You know there's no way around it if he's pissed."
No one replies to what seems to be an universally agreed upon truth.
He blows out the smoke and crushes the cigarette under his foot. Fuck. He needs to calm down. They most likely haven't killed you, but if they laid a single hand on you...He's blacking out again. Whatever blinding rage possessed him back in his youth, when his Boss got wounded, would now pale in comparison. His ears are ringing and his vision is foggy. He can't even recall how he made it to their building. Or how he got past the guards. Although that one's easy to figure out, judging from their twisted throats. 
He checks his rounds one final time and kicks the heavy metal door open. Only about a dozen of them, but no sign of you yet. Should take a minute. It is time for him to pay his respects. 
"What the fuck was that?" the scarred man swiftly takes out his weapon and knocks the stool over with his foot.
If it is who you think it is...Your face twists in fear.
"Listen, you've been nice to me so I don't want to see you dead. Could you...could you leave, please? It might be someone I know and I promise you there's no point in fighting back."
The noticeable quiver in your speech might lead one to believe you're awaiting your executioner, not your savior and boyfriend. But you've seen Daitou angry and the ordeal flooded the very marrow of your bones with terror. Naturally he could never be upset at his darling for any reason, ever. Whoever poses a threat to you, however, can't say the same thing. You remember trying to pull him back from a random drunk that had groped you during an outing, and he tightly gripped your jaw with a bloodied hand and nearly ordered you in a ragged growl: "Hey. I said I'll be done in a moment. Be a good girl and close your eyes." 
Thus, from experience, you know he'd never listen to your pleas. Maybe if he was lucid enough, but not in this manic state. The man wearing an eyepatch scans your expression attentively. Your worry is genuine and the other room is gradually becoming quieter, but not in a way that'd inspire him confidence. He certainly doesn't feel like dying today and there's nothing honorable about throwing yourself into a senseless battle. He nods at the other two men and he asks you one last time if you'll be fine by yourself, to which you shake your head vehemently. Please go away already. 
The final obstacle crumbles under Daitou's weight and you fiddle with your glass, alone, at the mahjong table. He seems to be taken aback and once he confirms you're not in any pain or discomfort, his demeanor switches within an instant. 
"Where's everyone?"
"They ran away."
"Just like that? And left you here?" He stares at you, baffled.
"Maybe there's some still in the back. These ones left because I asked them to."
He approaches you, still bewildered and confused. He looks like a lost dog.
"What? They were nice to me and I didn't want you to kill them. You never listen when I tell you to stop." You huff, pouting and folding your arms.
"Sorry. I got a little bit anxious." He kneels before you and extends a hand apologetically. "Friends again?"
"Wash your hands at least, I don't want to know what organ remains you have stuck through your fingers."
He chuckles and wipes the palm against his shirt. You follow his movements and notice the bullet wounds near the ribcage. This madman. You speedily bend to his level and remove his jacket to inspect the injuries.
"Christ. Take off your shirt and let's at least stop the bleeding before we leave. How the hell can you still stand with all these holes in you?"
Daitou unbuttons his shirt obediently and you try to wrap it around his abdomen. You notice the thick, wide scar crossing his stomach, presently smeared with blood. Either his or someone else's. 
"Now that I think about it, how did you get this scar? From a gang fight as well?"
"Oh no, I got this in prison. I was supposed to serve many more years, but one of the Seniors rang and said Boss needs me for something. They were in talks with the police chief to maybe bribe my way out. 
But I felt terrible knowing that Boss would be wasting money on my mistakes. At the time the place was overcrowded, so I figured they'd let me out for medical emergencies. So I cut my stomach open and they counted it as a suicide attempt." He responds with a proud grin. 
You grimace a little at the mental image. 
The cloth has been tightly, albeit clumsily secured around his gashes and you both get up. It occurs to you that throughout this mess you haven't feared for your life once. It feels like Daitou is always there to get you out of trouble. Despite his unorthodox methods.
You gaze up at him and notice the prosthetic eye has rolled inwards, so you adjust it slightly with your finger. He follows your romantic gesture with a quick peck on the lips. 
"You'll get yourself killed one day." You whine, tired.
"And leave you alone? Never. You're stuck with me for life."
He flashes you a wide smile and pats your head.
"Can we still go on that date?" The yakuza suddenly remembers, guiding you as you zigzag your way among fresh corpses.
So he hasn't forgotten. A faint blush dusts your cheeks.
"Sure, but I'd like to have a bath first."
"Then let's have one together." He suggests cheerfully, completely unbothered by whatever just happened.  
Tags: @yandere-city2 @lokiofasgard12 @zeniiis @lucienbarkbark @channelinglament @your-next-daydream @bath1lda @murder-hobo @zanzie
(hopefully I didn't forget anyone)
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am-i-interrupting · 1 month
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Reaction to You Doming
(Part one— the gals)
Alastor
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An eyebrow raise and a widen of his smile.
Alastor doesn’t participate in sex where he’s touched or stimulated often but even so, the idea is something he finds amusing.
You really think you can take the Radio Demon? Hilarious.
He’ll indulge you.
You’ve got to fight for it though because he is going to struggle.
Pining him down, tying him up, even if he can easily get out of it if he so wishes, he’s surprised to find himself enjoying it.
Whips, chains, knives, biting, he finds himself enjoying the things he normally uses on you.
He will get bratty if you try to edge him though. That he’s not used to.
When he gets hard, he normally deals with it quickly after being touched.
He’s able to ignore any hard on he gets for a while if he doesn’t touch it or stimulated it but as soon as he does, he normally comes within five minutes.
You edging him and teasing him, barely dragging the tip of your fingers along his dick, giving his tip kitten licks, sucking his balls instead of his cock. It’s all torture. He loves it.
He’d be a fan of urethral sounding.
The feel of a stretch, a full was where it’s not supposed to be, stopping him from being able to come. Once again, he hates it but he loves it.
You’d surprise him when you’re able to tame him and he’d enjoy every second of it.
When he’s done though, he’s done and probably won’t let you do it for several weeks if not months.
Husk
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Husk is not opposed. No, he’s not opposed at all.
He’s not exactly the most sexually active. He’s got a low to normal libido and it takes a bit of build up to get him in the right mood.
Slow, sloppy make out sessions, preening his wings, cuddling on the couch while playing with his tail.
The most sure fire way though would be a massage.
He has a lot of tension and getting it pushed and rubbed out of him is something that slowly builds up his arousal as he feels more and more safe.
He’s purring putty in your hands.
At that point, you can prop him up and get him off.
If you’re behind him, he’s hiding his head in the crook of your neck and you can feel his purrs against your skin.
If you’re in front of him, he’s cupping your face gently with his paws, tangling his claws in your hair, running a hand over your skin, just desperate to touch you.
Or you could tell him to suck and he will. It won’t be precise but it will be earnest and warm and you’ll be teased with the vibration of his vocal cords.
If you pet him or brush him, his purrs will get even louder.
He won’t ever get desperate or beg. He might do a bit of whining if you stall his release but he feels warm and safe with you.
He knows you’ll take care of him eventually. He’s not too worried about how long it’ll take.
He’ll look at you with eyes completely overtaken by his dilated pupils the entire time.
Lucifer
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Lucifer is immediately on board. Sort of like a “I’m glad you asked before I had to.”
The only thing that stopped him from begging for you to dominate him was the pure embarrassment opening the conversation would give him.
He’s the sun of pride, not lust. He put his pride just a bit before it. Although, he was about to turn to Ozzie for advice on how to start the conversation without turning completely red in the face.
He is such a good boy for you.
He sinks into the sub-space so quickly.
He will do absolutely anything you ask.
He’s got a praise kink.
He loves and hates being tied up. He loves being a pretty play thing for you but hates that he can’t touch you.
Mouth open, ready for you to ride his tongue without even having to ask.
One of his favorite things is to suck on you, your clit/dick, your nipples, your fingers, your skin, whatever. He doesn’t care. He has an oral fixation.
Loves to be filled.
Fuck him into the mattress until he can’t speak, please.
Vox
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He has an image to upkeep. It’s hard for him to let go of the idea that people are constantly watching him.
When he does though, he’s either a brat or the perfect little boy, no in between.
He likes to feel small.
If you’ll just squeeze his neck or put pressure on his dick, he’ll be in the sub-space so quickly.
He loves and adores you showing him you have power over him.
Edge him. Make him wear a cock cage. He’ll be so bratty but so whiny when he comes.
He likes being driven to tears.
Overwhelm him.
Embarrass him.
Praise him.
If you put him in any form of bondage, he’s trying to get out of it. He’s got to touch you. He needs to.
His favorite feeling is your mouth and fingers on his dick teasing him with ghost touches.
He will come untouched from words and anal stimulation alone.
If you tease him with the tip of your dick/strap on and then slowly inch inside him, he’s tearing up the sheets as he whines and writhes.
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jarofstyles · 7 months
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Sea View
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Hello my lovely babies. Here is a sugar baby!H one shot. 
I hope you enjoy them. 
Check out our Patreon for early access and 100+ exclusive writings!
WC- 3.7k
Warnings- public sex/exhibitionism, unprotected sex, slight degrading but also praise kink, soft!dom H
---
The Italian sun was turning his skin golden. He knew that it was definitely time for a sunscreen application again, but the beams of warmth felt too damn good on his body to be assed to get up.
Besides- he had Y/N’s leg hitched over his as she napped in the familiar sunbeams he was soaking in.
After a particularly stressful week, Y/N had had enough. She chartered a yacht, called her assistant to defer her calls and woke Harry up from his meditation nap to pack his bags. They were on the private plane before he even properly woke up, but he couldn’t complain.
The water was impossibly blue, the weather was perfect and their boat was heavenly. He’d never been on a vacation quite like this. He’s actually been to Italy for a bit when he did an exchange program, but he hadn’t been able to just relax. He’d spent his time exploring and studying when he was here, picking up the language, learning the people, his surroundings. There wasn’t time to just… be
A week back in Italy with the best food, a private boat and villa and the most beautiful woman he had ever met, all expenses paid? He would be a fool to turn that down. All he needed to do was help her unwind. That meant hiding her work phone from her, massaging her shoulders, letting her sleep on him like she was now, and giving her every bit of affection and sex that she could possibly want.
‘You work so hard, darling. Deserve a break. I’ll take care of you.’ Was what he had told her when they boarded the boat, kissing her lips as he felt her hands grip his shorts. They had been particularly slutty this trip, something he really liked. His new brand of shorts were cut closer on the thigh, in a variety of colors. Y/N had appreciated them greatly.
It was after the first round of sex that day that Y/N requested they spend some time up on the deck. The warmth was welcome to her, he could tell. It was his job to relax her, to keep her sane, and he liked to think he did a pretty good job of it- both with his words and his cock. This time, though, he could tell she had been particularly drained from work and he made it his mission to keep her as relaxed as possible. Their drinks sat on the ledge behind them, condensation sweating the glasses. Y/N’s book was abandoned with a bookmark haphazardly placed in it, her cheek pressed against his bicep.
The concept of a midday nap for her was unheard of. Harry had been with her for a while now, and in his time knowing her he had never experienced it. That’s how he knew she was really exhausted. Fingers stroked the hair from her face with his opposite hand, simply observing her as she slept. A soft vulnerability was painted on her features as her guard was completely down. In her sleep, Harry could see just how sweet she could look. In everyday life, she was a very powerful and merciless businesswoman. She was wealthy beyond his comprehension and she had gotten to that point because she took no prisoners. She had to, in order to get what she wanted. He’d seen firsthand her cold demeanor and her stoic, practiced words when she was at work and they’d be interrupted.
No one besides Harry had ever seen the woman beg for anything. No one had seen tears drip down her face when she was overstimulated, no one had seen how mushy she got after an entire night of hot sex where he took care of her. Despite the fact that they switched around who was in charge and he very much loved being a good boy for her, Harry liked seeing her soften up for him. Being exposed to a side of one of the country’s most powerful people that no one else had gotten the chance to see? It made him feel powerful all in himself.
When their arrangement had started, she had taken the reigns for the most part. She’d needed to get comfortable with him, which had taken some time. The first night he had taken over control had been a bit of a power struggle, but she took to it well after getting a real taste of what Harry could do.
Being able to comfort her, even in moments like this, made him smile.
“I can feel you staring.” Y/N voice slurred against the skin of his arm, rubbing her nose against it as she shifted to tuck her face into his neck. “Rude.”
Harry’s heart warmed with the rays of the sun, turning slightly so he was facing her before gathering up her sleepy form in his arms. “How could I not stare? When the lioness is asleep, it’s the best time to observe the beauty.” Lips pressed against her warm forehead, letting her leg tighten around his waist. Looking down, he could see some of the bruises he had left on her silky skin. Fingerprints on her thighs, a few on her hips. A sense of satisfaction went through him as he felt her lips give a chaste peck to his throat, exhaling heavily. He had done this. He got to experience this woman fully.
“Lioness? I’d say Tigress, if anything.” Her sleepy laugh made him smile. “How long was I out?” Stretching her body out, she shook for a second before curling back up against his side. It did things to his heart that he didn’t want to talk about.
“An hour.” His fingers returned to her waist, rhythmically dragging up and down the curve of it. “Passed right out. You’re exhausted, love.” It was a bit concerning. Y/N handled pressure very well, stress even better since Harry had entered her life- but he could see some cracks forming before they’d left. “M’glad you took us here. You needed a break. I worry about you.” He spoke against her hair, knowing she didn’t like it when he worried.
“I’m okay.” Her voice was soft. “I… I remembered what you’d said about feeling a breaking point coming and doing something about it before you reach it. I was there.” Opening up wasn’t easy for her in the slightest, but Harry had been her confidant for a bit now. He never judged her, always stressed the importance of mental health along with her physical. “I just wanted to go somewhere we could just relax. It’s still hard for me.”
That much, Harry knew all too fucking well. Y/N was always wound up tight. She was coiled like a snake for most of her day. Being a woman in her position, unfortunately she had to be. She had to work twice as hard and be twice as defensive because men were awful and believed they deserved her position, her success more simply because they were men. It was sick and wrong but Harry understood why she had to feel on the guard all the time.
“I know it is.” The reply was soft. “But m’teaching you, aren’t I?” He was a very relaxed person now that he didn’t have to work at the bar. He was able to work on his music, do his yoga, bake his treats, and focus on this fucking gorgeous woman’s pleasure. For some, it wouldn’t be fulfilling. For Harry? It was a dream come true. He loved teaching her how to relax.
“You’re doing a good job.” Y/N chuckled, pulling her face from the refuge of his neck. “Got a pretty boy with equally as pretty words to help me with that.” Her own fingers came up to stroke the facial hair sprouting on his face. She was a very big fan of it, he was finding out. He hadn’t shaved in a few days and she seemed mesmerized.
“Just pretty?” He smiled, feeling her finger pop into his dimple. “I’d prefer… beautiful. Gorgeous. Ruggedly handsome, even. Sexy is acceptable too.” The quips were met with a laugh from the woman, face tilting up and catching his lips.
Harry was pleasantly surprised. Y/N was shy with her kissing at times. It wasn’t that she didn’t like it- she reacted with her whole body when he kissed her- but she didn’t initiate it too much. The opportunity was not going to be wasted. His mouth responded immediately, a happy hum leaving his throat. Fingers gripped her thigh and pulled her tighter against him as she shyly brushed his tongue against hers. Impressive. She was making a lot of the first moves, and he was ecstatic about it.
She tasted like orange juice, the mimosa’s from breakfast back on her tongue. Harry was taking in every bit of it, one hand curled around the back of her neck while the other kept her thigh against his hip, languid greed encompassing the kiss as he took a bit of the control away from her. There was that buzzing in his stomach, cock thickened as her body heat outshined the sun. In the middle of the boat, he didn’t have a care in the world other than keeping her satisfied.
“Mmm.. S’sweet.” He mumbled against her lips, going back in for more. “Open that pretty mouth f’me. Don’t be shy. I want everything from you.” He was going to milk this for everything he could. Her fingers slid into his hair, the manicured nails gently grazing his scalp and making him groan loudly. Chills flushed on his skin as he pulled her closer, cock pulsing in the shorts as he felt her arch into him. She knew what that did to him, the minx.
His tongue found hers before he sucked on it lightly, fingers diggling into her thigh as he pulled back just a bit. He felt her fingers tug on his hair again, trying to pull his mouth back to her own. It was refreshing to feel her need for him. “You’re starting something, darling.” He warned slowly. “M’not going to stop it if you continue.”
“Don’t.” Was her reply, pushing herself further against him. “We can do anything.”
Harry was surprised by her response. They definitely weren’t fully alone, but no one would come out on to the deck if they weren’t requested. Y/N had asked for privacy beforehand. The crew of the large boat stayed below deck… And honestly? Harry didn’t give a fuck if someone from another boat saw them. He was going to take this opportunity to pleasure his woman.
Rolling them over, he heard her squeak as he hovered on top of her. Eyes opened, the lusty haze making her grin as his body was backlit from the sun. He looked like her own personal angel. Swollen pink mouth and scruffy face, he was sent directly from wherever wet dreams originated from to be the one that took care of her.
“Filthy girl.” He whispered. “S’that what you want? Do you want me to do whatever I want to you?” He leaned his nose against her nose, brushing the skin as she nodded.
“Yes.” The word was breathy, unlike her normal cadence.
Harry grinned that filthy grin that made Y/N’s cunt clench around nothing, the promise of more in his eyes making her blink up at him. She had worked so hard, kept it together so well.. All she wanted to do was fall apart under him. Be dirty, take a risk for once in her controlled life. They’d fucked around many places, but she could see other boats not too far away. She knew it was risky.
“Oh, sweet fucking girl. You’ll let me tug this top off?” He questioned, tugging the cups of her bathing suit down slowly to give her a chance to say no. She didn’t. He pulled the fabric over her pebbled nipples, grunting in his throat as he took a look at her beautiful tits on display for him. “Hm.. Beautiful girl. That’s what you are.” Dipping down her body, he showed no hesitation taking one of her nipples into his mouth.
Sucking on the bud, he heard her gasp and fingers grip his hair as he methodically pulled the sensitive nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue against it. So warm, her skin smelled like her body wash and salt from the ocean as he lathed his tongue over it again. Teeth brushed it ever so slightly as he pulled back, eliciting a gasp from her before he switched breasts with a satisfied groan.
Yes. This is what his girl needed. His sweet, overworked, filthy minded girl. His cock was dripping into his shorts, the risk of the situation and her need for him arousing him more than he had been in a long time.
“More.” She whimpered. The one word was enough to get him to pause, looking at her with his blown out eyes. Mournfully releasing her nipple again, his wet lips opened to speak to her.
“More? Are you asking for me to fuck you, pretty baby?” His low tone made her clit throb, nodding frantically as she felt him press his fingers against her covered cunt. The bathing suit did little to hide her arousal. He could feel her heat, feel the slickness of her, and he knew he needed to take her. Now. “Yeah? Y’want me to tug this to the side and slip right in?” He spoke against her lips, pressing a kiss there before moving to her jaw. “Want my cock tucked up inside you, nice n’snug?”
Fingers tugged the fabric to the side, leaving her slick cunt exposed to the ocean air. To him. She shuddered under him as she peeled her eyes open, watching in anticipation as his hand went for his shorts between them. Slipping them down just enough to expose himself, he grit his teeth. “Hm?” His voice prodded her. He was covering her body, sure, but it would be obvious what they’d be doing.
Her body jolted when he tapped the ruddy tip of his leaking cock against her cunt, nestling it between her slit while he got himself wet.
“Yes.” She had been reduced to a beg. Y/N was usually much more talkative, much more of a tease, but she couldn’t be right now. This was exactly what the woman wanted. She wanted Harry to take over and make her forget all of her troubles. “Please. Just do it.”
Harry didn’t need much convincing.
She was still a bit sensitive from their sex when they’d woken up, a broken whimper leaving her throat as she felt the tip press into her. It was embarrassing how wet she was just from this. The man had made it near impossible to not be affected by his presence and she was too tired to pretend she wasn’t.
Harry’s cock was thick and long and the perfect size to fuck her dumb. To make her mind shut up about anything other than how good it felt. After long days in the office, it’s exactly what she’s needed. It was no different now, eyes falling shut as her head rolled back, legs closifn around his hips to urge him deeper. There was no need to fake that she wasn’t greedy.
“Fuck.” Harry grunted, feeling himself bury into her. “You needed it again. My poor girl. Needed me to take care of you.” He pressed his mouth against hers again before slowly moving, grinding inside of her as her fingers tugged the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a tight, wet paradise being locked inside of her. Shallow thrusts, feeling her clench up around him, he slipped a hand under her head to hold the back of her neck.
“Needed me so bad that you’re taking my cock right in front of everyone. What a filthy, nasty girl you are. So desperate for my prick to be buried in that sweet little pussy all over again that… you don’t even care if you’re caught.” He was working her up. Dirty talk got to her. Stimulated her in a way that he knew she wouldn’t admit to loving when she wasn’t hanging off his cock, but when she was?
She ate it up. Every crumb.
Legs stayed tight around him as he moved slowly, so fucking deep that she could cry. This was what she needed. Harry was right. She was desperate and dirty and she didn’t care if people were even right next to them, she had wanted him to be inside of her more than anything. This was her escape.
“No, my dirty girl just wants to soak me again. You want people to see how wet you get around me? How filthy and sticky you leave my cock every time I pull out? It goes right down to my thighs, you know.” His velvety voice was wrapped around her head. “You’re not happy unless m’balls deep inside of you. Greedy thing.” He crooned, feeling a bit more of her slick coating his cock. Fuck, he was obsessed. “ But this is a newer development. You’ve always like the idea of someone seeing but… they definitely can right now.”
It got to him, too. His dick was swallowed in her sweet relief, but he knew he wouldn’t last too long. Despite the slow thrusts, they were deep and a bit rough, moving her slightly when he bottomed out. Each thrust was rewarded with a squeak, a moan, a whimper. He was addicted to hear what noise he got next.
“They can see it, baby. If they turn their heads, if they look over, they can see you being fucked. Clinging to me, keeping me close. There’s no way they will be able to mistake it.” Despite the fact he eas covering her and his shorts weren’t fully down, the movements made it obvious. Harry’s always been into adventurous sex, always been into exhibitionism, but it was different here. It sent a heady zing right to his cock. Being a show off, an attention whore, he was in his prime.
“Harry…” she whispered, head tilting back as he bit down on the lobe of her ear. “I can’t. M’gonna cum if you t-talk like that.” She was going to regardless. The sweet press into her spot, his spot really, was perfect. There had been worry that maybe he wouldn’t be able to get her off at the beginning of when they met- no man had properly done it before- but he had exceeded all expectations. He was hers. She was keeping this man as long as she possibly could. He was perfection. Indulging in her like this was just one of the many reasons.
“You’d cum if I was silent. Your cunt loves my cock. Doesn’t she? Loves to be fucked in any way. On your knees, your stomach, riding me… but especially when people can see it.” He licked over her neck, the filth of it making her nails dig into the back of his neck. The stab of pain made him moan, moving a bit harder. It wasn’t fast, wasn’t hurried in the slightest. It was lazy and hot and so goddamn good.
“Yes. I love it. I-I want them to see.” She admitted in a slightly slurred voice, the pleasure already building up with his thrusts. Like sparks over her body. “Want them to watch. I’m gonna-“ she couldn’t finish the word, one of the thrusts stealing her breath.
“I know you want that, my filthy slut. Such a little whore for me.” He laughed, breathy and hot as he covered her lips back with his own. He was about to cum. He could feel her begin to quiver around him. “Going to soak my cock and let them see? So fucking dirty. Letting me fuck you out on this deck, not a care about anything other than getting filled. S’gonna make me cum too.” He looked at her with hazy eyes. The sweat on her forehead, the stickiness of their skin under the hot Italian sun.
All of this was erotic.
“Let go for me, angel.” He decided to pull out the language he knew she loved, nestled against her lips. “Voglio sentirti Bella ragazza. sempre così perfetto. Lascia che mi prenda cura di te, sempre.”
Y/N couldn’t stop it. The rasp of his voice, the Italian falling off his tongue, she came with an intensity she didn’t expect. Mouth falling open as he stole her breath, she finally expelled a moan as she came all over him. Slicked up, creamy and hot, she pulled him in and tried to push him away as the orgasm was worked through.
Harry wasn’t far behind, gritting his teeth as he cursed. His balls tight, he released the heavy load into her cunt, stuttered movement of his hips making him grunt with each finishing stroke. He painted her walls white, pushing it in deep as he groaned against her mouth. Breathing each other in, the movement stopped.
Y/N was full in every sense of the word, legs loosening but staying wrapped around him as her body loosened all its limbs. It was exactly the thing she had needed.
“You okay?” He asked softly, nudging his nose back against hers before pressing chaste kisses to the corners of her lips and the heated cheeks. “Did so good. Fucking perfect, as usual.” His praises made her lips quirk in a smile, returning a chaste peck before falling back to her blissed out features.
“Mhm. Perfect, actually.” Her response was a giggle, the relaxation back on her face. “But I’d like you to stay inside me for a bit.”
Harry rose a brow, trying to keep his softening erection at bay. “Will you behave? I need the nap now.” He needed a bit of time before going again- though keeping himself warm on her cock was a very nice addition to the day.
“Probably not. But I’ll let you sleep for a bit on my chest before I bother you for some more.” She replied, carding her fingers through his slightly sweat damp hair. His forehead fell against her shoulder, shaking in a laugh as he kissed the skin.
“Anything for you.”
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Text
Sea Sickness
Sea Sickness
Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)
Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.
Requested: Nope. 
Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.
Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.
@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 
I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes
I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).
Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  
Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 
Word Count: 488
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Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 
“You feeling ok?” 
“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 
“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 
Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  
Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.
“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 
Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.
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hanasnx · 1 month
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Indy! What kinks do you think Bruce would have ?
bruce wayne's kinks.
MINORS DNI 18+
! ── bondage + gags: it's a classic. tying you up and taking control from you is a huge turn on for him. if you have his complete trust, which rare ever do, you'll be able to do the same to him. unfortunately, those pretty silken ropes end up getting worn through way too quick, so you've upgraded to chains so you can ride him like a stallion. however, your headboard creaks a little more each time. when a 200+ man of pure muscle yanks on wood it splinters.
! ── edging + overstimulation + dacryphilia
! ── exhibitionism: part of his bruce wayne persona means public displays of affection are required. however, he enjoys it. getting his hands all over you where anyone could see means he elicits that cute reaction out of you where you hit him and scold him all the while his teeth are on your neck and he's groping you through your dress. the thrill of removing just enough to make sure he can get inside you makes him rip his belt open with fervor, and he's always a fan of a quickie. it's a stress reliever.
! ── breathplay: he's calculative when it comes to breathplay, but more specifically he loves putting his hand around your throat.
! ── size: he's an avid supporter. he thinks it's hot when you get all sheepish being reminded of how big and strong he is. he's got a powerful body he works day and night for, the least you can do is appreciate its every inch.
! ── food play: ever since strippers jumped out of his birthday cake in his twenties covered in frosting and edible bits that he was allowed to lick off he's had a thing for food play. at one point you feel like he's eaten entire meals off of you, he's completely nondiscriminatory when it comes to what he can lick and mouth as long as it's on you. if he's on a cheat day, he lets a scoop of ice cream melt on your skin just so he can clean you himself and watch your poor nipples pebble from the cold.
! ── impact play: chronic ass-smacker, tit-smacker less so, face-smacker even less.
! ── old school panty snatcher: if you put a pair of your used panties in his suit pocket before he goes to work he will play with it all day. stick his hand in there to meddle with the fabric between his fingers while he's talking to his board of directors with the presentation he's been preparing. he gets into the habit of inviting himself to your undergarments, and has been caught multiple times using one of your favorite pairs to jack himself off.
! ── bareback + creampies: condoms are fine he's not an idiot, but there's something about going in raw that draws him in. the extra edge of danger and the intimacy of touching the deepest parts of you bare.
! ── thigh riding: clasping your hands in his for balance while he watches you get off on his thigh. tells you it's like a personal show. he keeps those eyes trained on you with such an entertained grin it makes you whine in frustration, and that's hot too.
! ── threesomes/foursomes: he's done it all. having multiple partners is a testament to his endurance and he loves the praise, but since he's been official with you there is no room for that sort of thing and that's fine with him.
! ── light roleplay: you two have been known to throw the word "batman" around the bedroom.
! ── praise mostly very rarely a degrader
! ── daddy: as far as he's concerned, that's one of his names when it comes to you. in any context you call him that, he swells with pride. one time you visit him while he's in a meeting, not only did you turn every head in the room but when you called him "daddy" accidentally and out of pure habit, he didn't skip a beat. he glances at his companions with a knowing glint in his eye because they should be jealous that the girl they're gonna be thinking about for the rest of the day just called him daddy. he's got no shame about it.
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bau-drabbles · 1 year
Text
say it again
a/n: fluffy fluff w the team and spencer. it was gonna be smut but i was having a mental breakdown over my exams so it took a diff turn lmao.
hope you enjoy 🤍
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"hey pretty girl-" "no" "but i-" "no"
wrapped up in a thick warm blanket, you narrow your eyes at morgan while everyone still boards the jet. he's annoying you and you know it. but combined with your health and tiredness, you really don't want to play into it tonight.
however morgan is morgan and he has other plans, obviously
you were just so grateful to be going home where your bed desperately awaits your presence. it had been an awful two weeks, the unsub was meticulous and smart. and he worked with several people, it took days to track them all down. not to mention today was also the delightful day your immune system decided it no longer wanted to work resulting in a high fever and the flu. you passed the worst of it but not yet well enough to do most things.
"are you sleeping?" rossi poked your head and you gave him a slight glare, indicating towards yourself
"does it look like i'm having a party here?" you ask sarcastically, making him raise his arms in defense. rossi chuckles as he sits next to morgan, undoubtedly the two were going to be a pain in the ass the whole entire time.
"you cut us deep kid, you cut us real deep" morgan placed a hand over his heart, feigning sadness and pain. you both went back and forth with the comments until you groan slightly, leaning your head back.
"emily" you complained, pointing to the men opposite you. they laughed a little and slowly coughed when she gives them both a stern looking over.
"you leave her alone morgan, y/n isn't feeling well" emily scolded lightly, turning the page on her book.
"neither am i" he whines back, dramatically flopping his hand to his head.
"aww you poor baby" jj playfully mocked derek, coming back from the kitchen. she warmed a hot water bottle for you to have, her motherly instincts kicking in.
"there ya go" she gave you a sweet smile, standing up as she ruffled your hair. everytime a member of the team were sick, jj always made sure they were comfortable and rested. it was always without hesitation, always making you thankful there was someone in the team like her.
"how you feeling gumdrop?" garcia walks in with all her bags, setting them down as she feels your forehead. your frown is still fixated upon derek with whom you both start playfully bickering with each other
"hey hey, none of that sass mister. y/n is ill tonight, okay?" penelope narrows her eyes at him who blinks in shock.
"babygirl you're supposed to be on my side"
"hey i always am! but you, my delectable chocolate thunder, are getting on everyone's last nerve right now" she taps her pen at the end of his nose. he frowns in confusion but she settles beside him, giving him a nudge.
you give derek a cheeky smile knowing you've won that round and he narrows his eyes at you, knowing he would pay you back when you were better. you rolled the blanket over your head, cocooning yourself in a ball.
"are you feeling better, l/n?" hotch enters, settling in his usual place. you mumble a response from under the blanket, shivering slightly as the hot water bottle pressed firmly into your body. why was it so hard to warm up?
"hey l/n y'know-" derek begins but you cut him off with an annoyed sigh.
"leave me alone" you grumble under the warmth of your layers, hearing chuckles coming from the plane.
you feel something warm wrapped themselves around your lap and you stiffen, ready to tackle some sense into derek. but you see curly hair splayed on your lap. arms coming to snake themselves around your waist, beautiful honey eyes coming to give you some comfort. you relax, holding him that much closer
"never" spencer whispers, his hands coming to holds yours. his fingers interlaced with yours, he brings the back of your hand for a kiss, rubbing your knuckles tenderly. it felt so incredibly intimate, every part of you warming up to his affections.
he can't help but brush some hair back, just observing how beautiful you looked. even when you were sick, you had him in a trance that he never wanted to wake up from. he wants more, you feel his lips brush against your cheeks, breaths mingling until a pillow on your lap completely cuts you from your daze.
"get a room kid!"
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springtyme · 2 months
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Hey luv, hope all is well. So, I just previously read your spencer x girly!reader and I absolutely loved them. While reading the chess part, an idea sparked.
So if possible could you do something similar where Spencie boy and girly!reader are playing chess and she is obviously frustrated or something because she doesn’t understand. So being the amazing boy wonder he is, Spencer secretly acts like he had no good moves and the reader just starts pointing out the moves he could make not knowing he can clearly see those moves and he lets the reader win making her super excited and happy and immediately sets the board back and starts another game.
I just think it would be so cute to see how Spencer would just gaze at and admire the reader as she is focused and asks questions. If this is too confusing or too similar to the original chess part no worries. It’s simply a mere thought I had. Do with it what you please!!!
Love your works and your blog 🥰🤗
𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲 ♡
Thank you so much, hun ♡ I't makes me so happy to hear that you liked the other ones, I've had so much fun with them. And thank you so much for this request, it's such a cute scenario!
Spencer Reid x girly!reader|| Masterlist || Spencer playlist
summary: Spencer truly can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. With you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters. You keep being patient with him, every step of the way. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot. All he ever want to do is make you smile, even when it means that he has to lose in chess on purpose. Part one & part two 💕
word count: 2.0k
a/n: I was actually in a chess club in school, but we did not play chess, so sorry if the chess parts aren’t very accurate, I tried my best, lol.
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Spencer watches you intently, his heart swelling with adoration at the sight of you trying your best. He can see the determination in your eyes, the way you furrow your brow in concentration, and it only deepens the love he feels for you. Your stained lips pouting sweetly as you contemplate your next move
You let out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in your chair with a frustrated expression. “I just don’t understand this game, Spence. I feel like I’m making all the wrong moves,” you sigh, moving your knight in a random direction. “At this point I‘m just making moves for the sake of it.”
Spencer can’t help but smile at your frustration, finding it endearing how you get so worked up over a game of chess. Moving your knight wasn’t the best move you could have made, but he doesn’t want to tell you that, and it wasn’t the worst move either. He reaches out to gently place his hand on top of yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but he lets his fingers linger for a little while. It always manages to surprise him how soft your skin is, and how it feels so warm and comforting beneath his touch.
You look up at him, your pretty eyes meeting his gaze and Spencer feels how his heart skips a beat at the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks.
“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself. Some people use their entire life to master this game, and you’ve only been playing for a few weeks,” he reminds you. “You’re doing great, and trust me, you’re not as lost as you think you are.”
You smile softly at his reassurance. “So, what I’m hearing you say is that if I keep going, there’s still a chance that I can be a big old chess nerd like you?” you tease, nudging him playfully.
Spencer chuckles at your teasing, loving the way you always manage to make him laugh, something he hasn’t always had an easy time with. “Hey, being a nerd isn’t that bad, okay?”
“No, it’s not,” you agree, leaning in closer to him. “In fact, I think it’s kind of cute.” Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a warmth spread through him at the way you look at him with such affection.
Spencer knows many things, arguably too many things, but he will never be able to understand what you see in him, you’re so beautiful and confident and always so kind to everyone, there is no doubt in his mind that you are way, way out of his league, but he is grateful every day that you, for whatever reason, chose him.
“I’m glad you think so,” he mumbles, a slight blush dusting his cheeks at your words.
“I actually think you’re very cute, you know,” you say playfully, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of his face with a gentle touch. Spencer can feel his heart racing in his chest as he looks into your eyes, seeing nothing but love and admiration reflected back at him.
He leans in closer to you, unable to resist the magnetic pull that always seems to bring you both together. Your lips meet in a soft, tender kiss, filled with all the love and affection that Spencer feels for you. In that moment, nothing else matters except for the two of you and the way your hearts beat as one.
As you pull away, a smile tugs at the corners of Spencer’s lips, a smile that only you can bring out in him. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and warmth.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes shining with your own smile, bright and full of happiness.
Spencer will never be able to wrap his head around why you love him, but damn he is glad and forever grateful that you do. If he could travel back in time and tell his younger self that he would find someone as amazing and wonderful as you - that someone as beautiful and kind hearted as you would ever love him, he wouldn’t have believed it, he would probably think that it was some kind of cruel joke. But here you are.
It’s overwhelming, really, the love and adoration he feels for you in every fiber of his being. He never knew he could feel this way about someone, never knew that someone could make him feel so alive and complete. The fact that he feels so at home and normal with another person in his life is beyond anything he could have ever imagined.
But with you, everything just feels so natural, despite him being in completely foreign waters, you keep being patient with him every step of the way and with you by his side, it doesn’t seem so daunting anymore. With you, everything just falls into place, like the missing piece of a puzzle finally fitting snugly into its spot.
“Oh, you got something…” you whisper, almost more to yourself than him. He is confused for a short second, until he feels your thumb brush against the corner of his mouth, wiping away the trace of lipstick that had transferred from your lips to his. Spencer chuckles at the realization, feeling a warm rush of affection for you. “There…” you say with a soft smile.
Spencer can’t help but chuckle at the tender gesture, feeling a surge of warmth behind his chest.
“You can’t keep distracting me like this,” you tease, leaning in closer to him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “I’m actually trying to beat you at this game, you know.”
Spencer’s smile widens at your playful tone, a twinkle in his eye as he looks at you. “Who says I’m going to make it easy for you?” he responds, his voice laced with amusement.
“You did! You literally said that you would go easy on me,” you pout, crossing your arms in mock annoyance.
Spencer laughs, a sound that fills the room with joy. “Okay, okay, I may have said that,” he concedes, “but, I don’t think you really need me to, you know. You’re a lot smarter than you give yourself credit for, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up beating me at my own game someday.”
“I doubt that,” you mumble, looking back at the board with furrowed brows.
Spencer leans back in his chair, watching you with admiration as you study the board, he can see the gears turning in your head. He knows what move he should be doing, the move that could make him win the game, but he isn’t really interested in that.
“Well, it looks like I’m running out of options,” he say, feigning defeat as he moves his bishop into a vulnerable position.
You glance up at him. “You could have moved your rook to that square and set up a potential checkmate in a few moves,”you point out, sounding both surprised and proud that you saw the possible move.
Spencer had, of course, seen that it would have been the right move to make, but he wanted to give you a chance to shine, and to prolong the game. Seeing the pride and satisfaction in your eyes is worth more than winning any game ever could.
“Oh, you’re right,” he says, trying to sound surprised, like he hadn’t seen that move multiple rounds in advance. But he must not be a very convincing actor, and he can’t help but smile as he watches the look of realization dawn on your face.
You roll your eyes playfully, seeing right through his act. “You’re such a goof, Spence,” you giggle, shaking your head in amusement. “But thank you for giving me a chance to show off a little.”
“I guess I just wanted to give you a fighting chance,” he says, leaning in closer to you.
You playfully swat at his arm, a laugh escaping your lips. “Dork,” you tease, but there’s a fondness in your tone that makes his heart swell with even more love for you, and he leans in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, before leaning back again to look at you, his heart overflowing with adoration for you.
You playfully roll your eyes, but there’s a hint of gratitude in your expression. “Well, thanks for the favor,” you say with a smile, moving your queen in a strategic position that surprises Spencer.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise at your move, impressed by your strategic thinking. “Oh, someone’s feeling confident now, huh?” he teases, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
You shrug nonchalantly, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “Well, you did say you weren’t going to go easy on me,” you quip, moving your pieces with a newfound determination.
Spencer watches you closely, his heart filled with pride at the way you’re starting to grasp the game more and more and making better and better strategic moves. He can’t help but admire your intelligence and quick thinking, feeling a sense of awe at the way you surprise him at every turn.
And yes, he might go a little easy on you from time to time, but he can see that you’re starting to understand the game on a deeper level. And that, to him, is worth more than winning a game of chess ever could.
As the game progresses, Spencer can see the determination in your eyes, the way you carefully plan out your moves and anticipate his next move
“You’re really giving me a run for my money, aren’t you?” Spencer remarks, a smile playing on his lips as he watches you strategize your next move. You give him a sly grin, clearly enjoying the challenge. “I told you not to underestimate me, Spence,” you say confidently, moving your knight into a position that puts him on the defensive.
Spencer chuckles, impressed by your bold move. “I should know better by now,” he admits, moving his rook to protect his vulnerable bishop. The game continues, each move calculated and strategic, and Spencer can’t help but admire the way you’ve grown since your first game together.
“Checkmate,” you say triumphantly, a grin stretching across your face as you realize you’ve won. Spencer can’t help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement and happiness at your victory. “Well done, darling,” he says, leaning in to give you a congratulatory kiss.
“I still feel like you went easy on me, but thank you,” you tease, a playful glint in your eye. Spencer can’t help but laugh, feeling grateful for the opportunity to see the excited smile that is lighting up your face, making your already beautiful features shine even brighter with a sense of pride.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn't,” he teases back, a twinkle in his eye. “But regardless, you did really well, I can’t believe how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time.”
You grin at his words. “Well, I’ve had a really great teacher,” you remark. “And he is, like, sooo handsome too. It’s actually wild that I could even concentrate on the game,” you add with a wink before you’re leaning in to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.
Spencer’s heart flutters at your words, feeling a surge of love and adoration for you that he can’t quite put into words, they are too big and too overwhelming to express, so instead he tries to pour every bit of that love and adoration into the kiss that he returns to you.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to him as he deepens the kiss, savoring the feeling of being so close to you, of sharing this moment. He might have lost the game, but because of you, he has never felt like less of a loser.
As you both pull away, a smile lingers on both of your faces, and Spencer can’t help but feel like the luckiest man alive. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
“I love you too, Spence,” you respond, your eyes filled with nothing but love and affection for him “Now help me set this board up again, I want to beat you fair and square this time,” you say with a playful glint in your eye. Spencer chuckles at your competitive spirit, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him as he helps you set up the board once more.
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mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month
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Escape Is Mandatory
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platonic Spencer Reid x geniusbau!reader | part 4
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
Summary: prison changed Spencer, and along with it were a couple of horrible choices bau!reader refused to tolerate, hence a threat to their years of friendship. But all of it disappeared as soon as an unsub threatened your life.
Warning: details of death, violence, and infidelity; curse word(s)
A/N: I can't believe it has been over a year since I posted this mini-series (me just disappearing out of nowhere, lol). This draft has been sitting for a year. I never published it because it felt boring (I still do, somehow), but I wanted to celebrate the series reaching a year old HAHA! Anywaysss, as usual, this might be heavy, so be mindful when reading. It's not my gif; credits to the owner :)
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
Luther Gerard grinned maniacally, leaning against his seat, "Let me guess... sister? Oh, but she's too pretty to be related to you." His cuffed hand caressed your picture on the table, "Lover, perhaps?"
Spencer's jaw clenched, "Where. Is. She?" His palms were itchy, breathing steadily as he kept them flat on the table.
This unsub was unlike any other serial killer he had encountered. Luther Gerard, age 38, is an average plumber but one hell of a genius, almost as dangerously intelligent as Spencer, with 186 IQ.
Spencer would be lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He was terrified to the bone. Because this time, the unsub had 83.248% outsmarting him, and the victim was you.
"Anyone wanna hear how I picked her up?" Luther glanced at the two-sided mirror, chuckling, "I'll take the silence as a yes."
He looked at Spencer straight in his eyes, "It was dim, but not too much. She was 40 feet away from the precinct entrance... 15 from you. She looked pretty mad when she turned her back, but she looked so hurt walking away. I can remember her tears. Oh, they were sweet and just a little salty. She knew I was there for her. She was going to scream for you. But what can I say? She was a second too slow. I was going to get your attention but she looked so good unconscious in my arms."
"You sick son of a bitch—"
It took Luke, Matt, and three police officers to hold Spencer back. His face was red, and Luke swore he was breathing fire. His knuckles were white as he grabbed Luke's shirt and a bit of the skin on Matt's arm.
Spencer escaped from being pinned by five people with minimal struggle, grabbing Luther's collar to the point of suffocation. "Where the hell is she?! Tell me where!"
Luther laughed out loud, watching as Spencer crumbled into an angry mess. "Listen here, Dr. Reid... you can be a point smarter than me as long as you can, but she will always be two points dumber than me. She'll die in that fucking warehouse."
Emily barged into the interrogation room, "Reid." She gestured at Matt to take him out of the room, leaving Luke to get the answers they'd been looking for the past five hours.
Spencer aggressively shrugged Matt's hands on his shoulders, "I can walk," His voice grew a little softer than seconds ago, but his tone still crunched with anger.
As soon as the door shut, Spencer turned to Emily, "She's dying out there."
"You're not the only one who's worried. She's our friend, too, you know. But we won't find her if you let your emotions take over you." Emily took a deep breath, giving him a concerned look.
Spencer ran his fingers through his hair, "I'm not worried. I'm scared." He dropped his head, letting a cruel sigh pass his shivering lips.
Despite his attempt to reinsert himself in the interrogation room, Emily forbade him from coming in contact with the unsub for the rest of the evening. So, he stood next to JJ in the conference room, trying to save you in the best way he knew how: geographic profiling.
"I should've known," Spencer mumbled under his breath.
JJ turned to him, "Did you find something?" She scanned the board in front of them, hoping that she'd see what Spencer was seeing.
Spencer loosened his tie, "The victims. The location. I should've figured it out the moment we briefed about the case. It should've clicked." He guiltily looked at JJ, "I should've kept her safe."
"Spence," JJ spoke motherly. "None of us knew she was the target. You have to know that none of this is your fault." She gave him a kind look, something he knew well to differ whether it was out of pity or genuine compassion.
"But it is my fault..." He averted his eyes from her. He couldn't bear to look at anyone in their eyes, much less the thought of yours, filled with tears from his stupidity.
JJ's eyebrows gently knitted, "Did something happen the last time you saw her?"
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
2 days ago...
The afternoon's fifth hour barely struck, yet the sky was already dark. The lampposts around the precinct were enough light to at least keep you and Spencer from tripping.
None of you have said a word for the past three minutes. You even missed Emily's nod. Both of you were too occupied to care. You: with the obscene sight you just witnessed and the burning itch to smack the back of his head. Spencer: with whatever internal conflict he was going through after coming back from prison, he refused to talk to anyone about.
With every step away from the might as well named crime scene, your lips slowly unfastened. Spencer had barely clicked the SUV's key when you began.
"She's married."
"She's unhappily married."
Your eyebrows clashed, "That's not an excuse, Reid. Your wrinkly brain knows that."
"Can't you just mind your own business?" Spencer rolled his eyes, treating your conversation lighter than you wanted him to.
"I would have if only you did," You looked at him with utter disbelief. No amount of blinking would erase the sight forever etched in the back of your curse of a photographic memory. "Her unhappy marriage was her business. That was her and her husband's business."
Spencer was growing impatient with you. The signs were easy to catch. His knotted forehead. Thoughtless glare. Clenched hands deep in his pockets. An obvious Spencer-is-pissed-at-you special tell.
He straightened his back, "I was just helping her out."
"Holy shit—" You scoffed a baffled chuckle, "Are you hearing yourself? Adultery and sympathy are not the same, Reid. What the hell has gotten into your head?"
Ordinary people wouldn't have cared. Luke and Matt would disagree and judge Spencer's stupid choices but would've kept their mouths shut. Emily and David would spit a bit of advice on how morally wrong he was, but they would have minded their own business for the most part. Tara would've been disgusted but refused to get herself involved. JJ and Penelope would have been utterly disappointed and angry at him, but they wouldn't have missed a chance to make up with him.
You, however, felt nauseatingly repugnant. Years of friendship felt like a thin layer of ice loudly breaking. He knew most of your uninteresting and failed romance. How often has he lent you a back to bury your face on? The number of times he's caught not two but four of your short-term lovers shamelessly cheating. He knew well enough, too much even.
"You know what I think?" He chuckled evilly. And you knew then he was aiming for your throat. "I think you're just jealous because you don't have the aptitude to get over your dead boyfriend."
Your jaw dropped. You half-expected him to say those words, but it still surprised you. It still stung. Your tears were fighting to flow, but you had enough self-respect to not do it before him, not with his shitty attitude, at least.
You gripped the hem of your blazer, "You're a jerk. That's what you are." You took a sharp breath, biting the overflowing ache on your chest. "Come back when you've got something for the case."
A second didn't pass after you turned your back on him, and the tears immediately trailed down your face. You walked out of the parking lot as fast as you could. Crying in front of your childhood classmates felt more gratifying than in front of Spencer.
Wiping the unwanted tears from your cheeks, your feet came to a halt without warning. Something about the fifteen-foot distance from Spencer's back and the forty-foot gap from the entrance to the precinct left you terrifyingly vulnerable.
Your gears began turning.
Victims were awfully close to your build.
You're in your hometown.
And it clicked a second too late.
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
"Spence!" JJ gently shook Spencer back to reality. As soon as she knew he was back down to earth, she immediately spoke, "They found another body—"
Spencer flew out of the door before JJ could even finish speaking. He went to Luke, who was on his way to one of the SUVs. "Where?" He asked in a rush. His heart was beating right in his ear. A series of negative thoughts filled his head.
Luke had a few seconds to tell Spencer where the said body was but quickly interrupted Spencer's thoughts. "We don't know anything yet, Reid."
"But what if it's her?" Spencer snapped. He had little patience for anyone. All he knew was how important it was to see a body that's not you.
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
"Fuck!" You cried in a shattered voice.
Tears flowed nonstop down your face, along with your own blood dripping from the top of your horribly bandaged head. Luther Gerard was evil enough to let you bleed slowly to death.
Unbeknownst to him, you were the most stubborn person in the entire BAU team. You bled your way out of the place he locked you in, cursing the pain off your chest.
You have been loosening the barbwire wrapped around your feet with your bare hands for the past hour. Your hands and your feet had gotten skinned off from the sharp metal.
Hope was on your side, though, as you felt your left foot painfully slide off the wrap. You cried out in joy, holding your ankles tight as if the pain would immediately dissipate.
You wiped your tears off your face, smearing blood from your palm onto your skin. You laughed, already delirious from lack of blood. "I'm going to break your neck once I find you. Then I'll beat the hell out of Reid for taking his goddamn time."
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer felt relief wash over him as soon as he glanced at the lifeless woman being pulled out of the creek. It may have been messed up that he was thankful a different woman died, but he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.
He and Luke drove back to the precinct with a little less tense chests. They may not have found you, but the fact that you weren't the body they found meant one thing. You were still alive. That's all that mattered.
"We'll find her," Luke broke the silence between them, glancing at Spencer from his peripheral. "She's stubborn. She won't let anyone hurt her without punching back. She's probably on her way back to the precinct." He attempted to lighten the mood.
Spencer took a deep breath, "She better be." He looked outside of the car, biting his lower lip. "She has to escape wherever she is. It's mandatory. I'm not letting her die without finishing our argument."
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
It's been two days of searching every nook and cranny of your little hometown, but the team hasn't gotten anywhere in finding you.
Each member was exhausted, especially Spencer. He hasn't gotten a wink of sleep. He couldn't even if he tried to.
They were running out of ideas. But like every single cases the BAU team had, you knew how to turn things around. Their wake snapped up as gasps echoed in the entire precinct.
The team rushed to see the commotion and almost burst into tears as soon as they saw you.
"Oh my god..." JJ whimpered under her breath as she clasped her mouth.
You stood there by the entrance, bloodied up and half-conscious. You held the door's handle tight, painting it with your dirty blood as it kept you up on your feet. They could barely recognize your face from the mixture of blood and dirt on your face.
Despite your pitiful, bloodied state, you managed to show them your temper. "You better have caught that bastard." You growled weakly.
Your body was shaking from exhaustion. Just as you slipped out of consciousness, Spencer rushed to catch your body.
Tara called for a medic while Emily went to your aid. Luke and Matt went straight to work things out and give Gerard the worst news he's ever going to receive: it turns out you weren't as dumb as he wanted you to be.
Spencer gently wiped your face with his sleeve. He didn't care if it was his favorite shirt. All he cared about was how his best friend stubbornly stayed alive.
When Emily sat next to him to keep you off the floor, she saw just how much your friendship meant to Spencer. She squeezed his shoulder, "She's back safe with us, Reid. She'll be alright."
Her words prompted Spencer's sobs, tears trickling onto your face in hopes that it would wash the hell you went through for the past days. He quickly wiped them off, though. He knew well enough how you'd react to his 'filthy tears' coming in contact with your skin.
"Yeah, you better clean it off," You mumbled with your eyes closed, gripping the hem of his cardigan vest. You couldn't let yourself pass out, knowing you had a severe wound on your head.
Spencer choked a laugh, "Took you long enough. I thought I would have to save your ass." He sniffed as he let the paramedics transfer you onto a crash cart.
You scoffed, turning into a short series of coughs. "Just admit it. You can't figure things out without my brain power. Your brain's getting smooth, Reid. Prodigy no more."
The team couldn't help but roll their eyes at you and Spencer's banter, bouncing back faster than your recovery. Although they hated to admit it, they preferred the two of you that way rather than apart.
"I'm glad you're safe..." Spencer's voice became softer. Somehow, he couldn't stop himself from tearing up. This was the second time he'd cried nonstop. The first time being the love of his life's death.
He was glad this time wasn't due to someone important's death. He didn't know how he'd handle it if the person he could always rely on would leave him of this world.
As you were dragged into the ambulance, you gave all the rest of your strength to glare at Spencer. "Don't think you're off the record. After I deal with Gerard, you're next."
"Is it mandatory?" He sarcastically stated, jumping into the ambulance the moment you were settled in. He couldn't bear to leave you out of his sight.
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smuttyaf · 4 months
Text
The Business
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𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰; 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.
wc: 4.9k
i made harry v manipulative, ik i need help, i’ll see my therapist this week
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“Don’t worry it ain’t mine.”
He makes his way across the room dumping the pile of red and green bills into the sink, his forehead glistens with sweat sweeping over his face, curls sticking along his temples as blood stains cover the white button up.
“Oh my god,” You gasp, fingers dropping the Vogue magazine nearly tripping over your feet rushing towards him. You lean over the island with mouth agape looking at him switch on the facet and begin washing his hands, droplets of blood running down the sink.
“Harry, what happened?” He’s tugging off his ruined blazer, hands going to roll up his sleeves while looking at the money.
“It was fucking unbelievable baby, lemme tell you,” He fumes, pushing away from the sink to cross the room towards the bar.
Harry is ranting about what he’s covered in, hands grabbing the bottle of dark whiskey to pour a glass. The clashing of the cups have your gaze turning away and towards him. The navy tie you wrapped around his neck this morning is drench as he swallows the liquor, his hands shaking with adrenaline, pupils dilated, and breath drawing out heavy; the only thing you can do is rub his shoulders looking up at him with concern eyes.
“Look at this shirt! Look at it, it’s fuckin— ruined!” He takes a swing of his drink. “It happened so fast… Shelly took us to the money… and I’ll tell you something, Mickey he knows his shit, he does!” You back away from his raging tone, fingers wrapping together in front of you listening intently.
“So Shelly takes us to the money, right, it’s in this safe and we have him on his knees when he opens it,” He pauses drinking the rest of his whisky in one go before pouring himself another glass. “I’m looking at this guy thinking to myself holy fuck! How the fuck was he able to do this, steal two million right from under our nose when bang.” He slams the bottle of whisky down hard on the counter beginning to faintly laugh at what happens.
“Johnny caps him, he caps Shelly!” He’s shouting, body turning and stepping towards you with free hand making drastic gestures. “Blood goes flying everywhere! All over me! All over the money! I have no idea if this is even all of it.” Harry swallows back the alcohol while your watching him with heavy eyes crossing your arms over your chest, you can’t help but think to yourself how when even upset with neck going red and thundering voice, Harry still looks so handsome.
“And right then, I go through the roof and punch the dumb son’ of a bitch! I punch him Y/N, right in his dumb fucking face, I didn’t give a shit whose son he was! I just wanted to hit him again, smack some sense into the idiot,” Your eyes immediately look at his bruise knuckles covered in dried blood.
“I mean look at the shit that I gotta fucking deal with now!” He continues, walking off with drink in one hand and other pointing angrily at the money in the sink.
“What are you going to do with it?” You ask turning around, your heels click against the floor boards as Harry begins going through the cabinets.
“I told them to run it through the cycle ya’ know but no! Mickey calls up the old man and he has no other plans so he wants to pick up the money tomorrow night!” Your heart picks up with eyes going wide, Lorenzo coming over tomorrow! You follow over to Harry crouched under the sink. “Where’s the laundry detergent?”
“It’s in the linen cabinet.” You say, eyes floating back to the pile. The sound of him walking off to retrieve it sounds in your ears while you never take your gaze off what sits in front of you.
Two million, all in hundreds, just there. It was alarming that this is where you found yourself six months into your relationship with Harry. You knew from your friends at the gentlemen’s club that he was part of a certain ‘business’ but, once you saw him actually taking the relationship serious and begun confiding, you found out that he had serious connections, and it was clear then what your options were; stay at Jaspers or be a good little doll and spend the rest of your time by his side.
You’ve experienced crazy shit in the last six months together, but nothing like this. The rest of your night was spent cleaning money; soaking it in laundry detergent, hanging them as if they were on a clothing line, Harry would then press them out with an iron before running it through the money counter. That’s all you heard that afternoon, the sound of money. Eventually, six months turns into four years and what you experienced that night didn’t even shake what you’ve seen for the remainder of your relationship. It use to be easy; being able to block out the blood, the screaming, the fighting; you remember not even flinching when waiting in Harry’s Rolls at the shed of light from the assassination outside the car. It weighs on your mind heavy that you’ve grown accustomed to the violence that you’ve begun questioning when you lost your humanity?
You remember feeling scared to shoot a gun when he took you to the range, and now you didn’t even budge. So many things became so normalized to you that in the last four months you were having a realization about the life you once lived and how you became so desensitized. You remember when all you would do is relax: go to the spa, get facials, go shopping, weekly manicures and pedicures appointments until now, you don’t even remember what it’s like to have a night out with your girlfriends since you’re always by Harry’s side.
“Please! I’m sorry! Please!”
Lenny is screaming as the sound of his face smashing against the toilet thunders from inside the bathroom. Your heart is hammering in your chest, teeth biting down on the cherry stain flesh as you feel tears begin to swell your eyes.
“You want to fuck with him right, so now ya’ have to deal with us!” Johnny shouts over him with the sound of gargling being heard next. You immediately press the blend option on the margarita machine to drown out the screaming being heard through the door.
Moments like this make you wish you kept your little condo, how you would have used it for instances like this where Harry would bring someone over to interrogate. You loved the large windows and open living room, it was the perfect size for you. Remember having sleepovers with your friends or lounging in on a Sunday afternoon just in your oversized t-shirt and underwear. You missed your old life, the one that wasn’t filled with bloodshed.
The smell of Baccarat Rouge fills your nose with the feel of warm hands gathering your hair onto one shoulder before they’re trailing down your hips, lips pressing against the skin of your neck when he wraps himself around you. Sucking in a shaky breath, your fingers release the button causing the crushed ice to halt its movements.
“Harry, I’m leaving.” You state, eyes looking at the light green mixture as your fingers fall to the marble counter. You turn around in his hold with tears brimming your eyes, Harry looks at you with a frown on his face, the hands on your waist pull you deeper into him.
“What… why?” He questions, a smile soon shines. “I didn’t use the good towel.”
You roll your eyes pushing him away as you lace your arms together looking up at him upset. “I’m serious Harry. I can’t take this anymore,” You rush, brushing past him with beating heart as you begin making your way towards the stairs. The last couple of months you would tell him that this was becoming too much to bare; screaming men, blood stain clothes and white powder being the only thing you’ve seen for the last four years, you’re tired of it.
That makes him rush to grasp your hands in both of his, pulling you back into him with the sound of muffle crying ringing throughout the space causing you to break. Lonesome tears trail down your cheeks when he tugs you back into his chest, your swallowing quick breaths looking at the white door and the activities going on behind it.
“Why? Ah’ you see,” His hand tearing away from yours and going to wipe your tears. Just like always, the simple gesture has you remembering why you fell in love with him in the first place, not what’s partaking in the background. “Baby that’s what I love about you, you’re so sensitive.” Harry spreads his fingers along your heated cheeks to reach and cup your jaw in his hand. He’s holding you there just like when he rocks into your throat beautifully, he knows what he’s doing, knows that the thoughts that are flowing in his mind is also flowing in yours.
“But I like you here…” He says, stepping in with his lips brushing against yours. “I want you to stay.” His lips sink to touch, your eyes slipping shut as the delicious taste of him seeps in your mouth. The hands once tangled with his run against the material of his chest. Honey bourbon gracing itself on your tongue as he twists himself around you, only making you hum pleasantly before pulling away from him.
“You know… this is hard on me too,” He mutters stepping forward to rock you back and fourth, running kisses down the curve your neck as his hands leave their place and grip your backside. Harry knew what to do just to have you right where he wants, have you drunk off just the small taste of him.
“I’ll tell Johnny to shut him up okay? Is that okay baby?” He whispers in your ear. You swallow hesitantly while nodding your head. Harry reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet he takes out his credit card and waves it in front of your face, small smile on his lips while you have a straight one. “Even better get out of the house and go shopping.” He doesn’t even wait for you to react, he shoves it in your palm before leaning in and pressing a kiss to your cheek.
Pulling away from you his body turns to open the drawers few rows down, he’s grabbing a pair of clippers that make you look away from the metal and back to the melting ice. His footsteps echo against the wooden flooring as he opens the door to the bathroom, the cries are much louder with the shuffle of moving feet.
“Shut this guy up would ya’ Johnny.”
This was the routine lately, say you’re leaving and him winning you back with sweet words and his touch. Telling you to go shopping or on vacation if it was weighing down on your mind that much, this was how it always was now. Chauffeur, champagne, and spending your time in Saint Laurent just thinking about how you got here. If this dream life of being apart of the mafia was what you expected or what your friends gushed about.
You spent your whole evening stepping into each store and buying whatever looks good on you without checking the tag. It’s funny that was what you did now, you use to penny pinch and save your last by the time it was payday till you reached Jaspers. Now, you only shop at name brand stores and dine at restaurants you never thought you would be seated in. The reality of your dreams came true but to what expense? You didn’t have anyone to do it with but Harry. Friends beginning to feel scared around you, security becoming suspicious among normal civilians which leads you to the point where you’re here right now, drinking champagne by yourself in Vivienne Westwood.
By the time you made it home Harry was sitting on the couch, slouched over on his knees with the highlights of the baseball game this afternoon playing. His head snaps towards the elevator, smile on his face as you step through, the chauffeur politely placing your bags on the table next to the entrance before smiling to leave.
“Did you buy the whole store?” He chirps, lips widening as you make your way towards the sofa and place the rest of your shopping on the coffee table. You fit yourself next to him, your arm lying against the cushion while your elbow props up your head.
Harry turns towards you his eyes roaming amongst your face till they fall on the long sleeve black dress you ventured out in, his stare drinking you in as he looks at your lips longingly. You let him admire you through, remembering when he first saw you at Jaspers and he would look at you like this, trying to control himself from pining you down and having his way. As he cherishes your beauty you can’t help but do the same. His hair dishevelled with gel as loose curls fall across his forehead, there are buttons undone exposing his chest tattoos with his flesh red and cheeks glowing from the alcohol in his system, even in this state he looks so dazzling. Licking your bottom lip it breaks his trance, he reaches over and lights a cigarette as he leans back into the couch.
“I wish you would stop smoking those,” You say, hand going to the curls by his neck.
“I wish you would stop telling me you’re leaving.” Turning to look at you with liquor on his breath and eyes glossy, he draws in his cigarette. Biting down on the inside of your cheek, you break the gaze and let them lead to the white and orange bags in front of you, fingers dropping from his neck you card them through your hair and shake your head.
“I don’t know when I became so use to it H. I —I feel like I’m not me anymore?” You confide, tone small while he nods his head, still looking at you when he’s inhaling as his free hand begins running up your thigh.
“I understand baby, you know I understand.” He coos, the smell of whiskey fills your nose as he moves in deeper. His addicting aura swaying you with the way his presence is so magnetic; he wasn’t even touching you intimately, yet already you were under his control.
“It’s hard sometimes but that’s why I do this job, right… and that’s why you,” He’s tearing the hand away from his lips and letting his thumb run against your cheek, your eyes move away from the bags and lock with his green ones. “You sit and look pretty, yeah?” He says nodding his head. You push your lips together, gaze dropping to the cross hanging on his chest.
“Is that all I am to you now?” You question. “Just a pretty face?”
His thumb doesn’t stop its movements and his gaze doesn’t wavier when he shakes his head either. He was so intimidating with his tactile actions and slow movements. It didn’t help that he was handsome too, because even when you’re questioning your place in Harry’s life your panties are dripping with the way he’s looking at you.
“You already know that but, you also know that I love you for reasons more than your beauty.” Voice deep and dripping in honey as he searches your eyes; like when he had you to himself for the first time, staring at you as if he could see right through, as if he knew every thought brewing. He’s taking the cigarette back between his lips to suck on the batch before throwing it into the ashtray.
“I know I haven’t been around here lately, know I’ve been out dealing with everything but I need you here, keep my bed nice and warm, right?” Nodding your head, you lean off your arm and take Harry’s hands into yours. Feeling over every prominent vein and bone, running the pads of your fingertips over his knuckles as his lips press into the side of your neck, cologne and smoke immediately overwhelming you.
“You love me?” You ask, his fingers intertwining with yours as he begins trailing his kisses to your cheeks.
“I love you like the moon loves the stars.” He breathes against your skin, his words sloppy and low that it has you moaning softly.
His lips slip onto yours, tongue delving into your mouth and wasting no time to lick into every part. Salvia dripping from his tongue and into every crevice as his hand spreads over your thighs, shoving your body deeper into the couch as he drinks you in. Muscles moving against each other, breathless whimpers escaping the space, your fingers trail to his broad shoulders as he presses against you.
You know he’s drunk, that’s all you taste on his tongue aside from the cigarette. He was rocking his hips into your heat steadily as your almond nails run up the hairs of his neck, your lips tearing away when you look at him. Olive pupils with bruise lips, the smell of him was everywhere, you couldn’t leave him even if you tried he was so addicting like the nicotine in the air.
“Hm, you’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry says, leaning back on his knees to unbutton the rest of his long sleeve as you open your legs up in front of him. “Keep the fire nice and warm.” He hush, his fingers sliding to your thighs and slipping under the material to feel against your skin.
You suck in a breath, watching him slowly as he hovers over you between your legs, one hand rubbing you over the lace of your panties and the other rubbing the skin of your neck. You love when he submits his dominance over you, how he’s staring at you daringly and never breaking eye contact as he touches the most pleasurable part.
“Harry,” You breathe, eyes fluttering when he slips his finger under the lace and begins to run the the pads of his fingers in heavy circles.
He hums at the expression crossing your face, watching the way your chest heaves up and down and hips twitch for sped up movements. Tongue escaping his mouth and running over his bottom lip, your eyes catch on the thickness bulging against his zipper. Your hand immediately going out and feeling over him. He was hard like when you danced for him the first time, your hips swivelling against his in slow movements as you rode him through his clothes. You felt how desperate he was begging to be freed and find himself buried in your walls, however that night he didn’t get access to what he has now. Only making the groan in his throat more drawn out as the pressure on your neck increases.
“Be my good girl, yeah?” He breathes, hips rocking in your moving palm as he slips his finger into you. Moans trail out as your gaze turns away from the black trousers and to pearly white teeth tucking his bottom lip away.
Nodding your head lightly you let your hands begin to undo the buckle of his belt, pulling down the metal zipper and retrieving the thickness that you want buried between your legs. Mouth watering at the sight, your tongue slithers out of your mouth to run against the skin of his head. Lapping around the girth till your running down the length, tastebuds coating him in spit as he stands angry and red before you.
You’re so caught up in the beauty of Harry, that the pleasure he sends your way is one of shock, his finger leaving your folds to skim against your clit to delve back in you again. Motions starting slow to soon pick up in pace as the palm of his hand rubs against your bundle of nerves, his middle finger sending arousal down your thighs. Moans of pleasure leave your lips when you look at him, one hand jerking off his cock while the other plays with the globes between his legs, you let your lips envelope him; plump and glossy expanding over every vein along his shaft.
He continues to let his finger slip in you so teasingly as you moan around him, gaze caught between his happy trail and into his green eyes, how they are focus on your lips wrapped around him that leave lipstick streaks in their wake. You’re tipsy off just the feel of him, his hand holding your neck as he rocks into your mouth happily, groans leaving him as he fits himself nicely in your throat.
Another digit joins his movements, walls dripping in your juices as they welcome the extra fit. A long muffle cry escapes you as he spreads your walls blissfully, your mouth stretching with each thrust of Harry sinking down while he has you completely spread open in the living room. His fingers curling deeply in your pussy as your chest heaves with every breath before he’s sliding back down your throat.
Skin begins to glisten with sweat, hands going sticky with spit as you stoke him, eyes fighting to look up at him and the tattoos peaking from his button up. You let your hips swivel against his palm, rubbing your clit deeper into his touch as he slides in, it causes your mouth to slip Harry’s cock out with a pleasurable moan with the way he’s driving his fingers into your heat.
He’s been watching you wither underneath him since he had you in this position, looking at you come undone with only two fingers. He loves the expression on your face; brows pinch together as your small hands glide up his shaft, pink roaming amongst your cheeks to your breast begging to be freed from their confines. Harry lets you get off in his hands, he likes the way you rub yourself in his palm, he likes the way your arousal is coating him, he likes how you’re so needy for him.
Mouth electing another moan at the feeling of him sinking deeper he catches your gaze, Harry gliding his thumb over your bottom lip, their smudge red from you running them all over his member as your fingers lazily stroke him, he’s following your motions with your hips only causing your head to lean back with pleasure.
“Fuck Harry,” You cry, hips runting deeper into him when he leans down letting his lips connect with yours. The delicious taste of him spreading over you as he licks his way into your mouth feels like heaven. Adrenaline courses through your body as you twirl your tongues against each other completely lost in the way he’s making you feel and running through your veins. He smells so good, taste so exquisite, why did you ever think you could just leave. The way he makes you feel is why you stay through all the fucked up things so, why even put up a fuss when you knew where you would be once the sunsets.
“Come here love,” Harry says, pulling his embrace away from you and making you stand up. You pull your dress over your head, letting your fingers teasingly remove your undergarments as you know Harry is watching as he tugs at himself.
He lets you lie with your back against his chest, head on his arm as he takes himself into his hands and begins to run his dick over your folds. Pleasant sigh leaving when you’re lifting your thigh up to angle with Harry’s hips just in the right moment to were he slips into your pussy. The thickness of him stretching you out has you moaning loudly with your head falling deeper into his touch.
Harry sinking into you for the first time will always surprise you, the way he fills you up so thick and heavy, drawing down your walls lazily till he reaches your cervix before sliding out and pushing back in. He was always so gentle before he felt you loosen up around him, feeling the way you drip down his length and quiver with each draw of his hips.
There was a mixture of moans, whimpers, cries and groans shared between you both and floating around the heated atmosphere. His free hand holding your thigh up as he picks up his paste graciously. He’s lunging into you, chest clinging to his button up that is soaked with sweat as he leans in and presses kisses into your damp skin. The hairs by the end of your neck cling to you as your body moves with every thrust.
“Who’s gonna make you feel like this?” Harry taunts, his cock driving down your walls angrily as he fucks you. You can’t help the whimper that travels out from his words with the way he’s burying you into the couch.
“Huh? Who’s gonna fuck you like this if you leave?” Voice in your ear so deep and sexy that it makes you take your hand away from the grey leather and run them through his curls, head turning as your mouth hangs slightly open as your body rakes with complete ecstasy.
“Mhm… look at your pretty face,” Harry says, dropping your thigh and wrapping his hand around your throat, only making you sigh out in pleasure as you feel rushed kisses and the sound his hips meeting your backside overcoming the interviewers on tv.
“No one can fuck you like this, right?” He’s huffing in your ear, grip tightening around your throat as your eyes flutter open, the burning sensation of your clit throbbing in pleasure tingling down your thighs. Shaking your head in between movements your fingers trail themselves out of his curls and to the hand on your neck, feeling over his touch as he pounds down your walls. His movements so deep and fast that you can’t even speak anymore, not even cry out in pleasure.
“That’s right, no one can fuck you like me, huh.” He continues, his teeth biting down softly on your cartilage as the vibrating feeling of your orgasm cashes down on you.
God, you hate that he was so proud with the way he can have you coming undone and knowing just how. The way he rams into your heat with such aggression that it has your eyes rolling back and nails digging into the skin of his hand, the grip he’s holding on your throat only making your motions escalate to your hips quivering away from Harry’s at the exploding feeling drumming in your core.
Chest heaves up and down as your lower half twitches against him, eyes fluttering up at the chandelier high in the ceiling to the oak spiral staircase, your mind in a complete haze as you shudder against Harry, his shaft still pumping away inside you as you try to collect yourself from the riveting feelings coursing through you.
“Look so sexy all over me,” He husks, your creaminess sliding down his cock as he releases the hold on your throat. His hand slips to your stomach burning in arousal as holds you there, his hips not letting up as he continues to fuck you into the sofa.
“Oh god Harry please,” You cry, eyes opening and following his movements as you let your hands trace over his and backside meet his movements. “Come in my pussy, please.” You whimper, his teeth tearing away from your ear and lips sticking to your temple as he hums to your words.
“That’s right baby. Only I can come in your pussy cause you’re all mine, right?” He utters, fingers dragging over the skin of your stomach as you nod your head softly.
“Yes all yours.” You sigh, teeth biting down on your lip as the feeling of him stretching you out has you lightheaded.
“Fuck you look so good like this,” Harry breathes into your warm skin, his hand wiping the strands of hair off your lips. He looks at the way your throat bobs with each lazy swallow, listens to the tiny whine you make when his balls press right against your folds, feels the way he slides into you effortlessly from the juices flowing out that he can’t help the long groan that escapes him when he feels his seed spill into your walls.
Your arousal mixing with his runs down your sweaty thighs while heavy breaths escape you, your version lies tirelessly on the packages in front of you while Harry’s hand goes to play with the hairs framing your face when you move around in his hold.
It’s quiet for a few minutes, the television playing as he tangles his fingers through your locks and lets the other drape down the expanse of your stomach. The sound of his heart slows as does yours in the space between you both. Lungs finding balance with feet tangling together, the sound of Harry sighing behind you makes you turn your attention to him.
“I know you want to leave but just stay. Just for a little longer.”
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written-in-flowers · 1 year
Note
Do you think you could write something where Aegon fingers future sister wife (sister betrothed?) during their lessons with a Maester or Septa 💚💕
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Pairing: Aegon ii x Targ!reader 
Words: 1k
Warnings: vaginal fingering, dry humping, underage sex stuff, hand-jobs. 
Lessons are Boring
You’d always been the attentive one during lessons. Maester Ryle oversaw the education of the prince and princesses of House Targaryen for two or three generations. A wrinkled old man with a few thin white hairs on his head, his maester’s robe hung loosely on his body and his chains clinked together when he walked. Due to his bad knees and hips, Maester Ryle often sat during the lessons and pointed at things on his board with a walking stick. This meant, he could hardly see over the other side of the table where the children sat in front of him. This meant, while Aemond, Helaena and you took notes and answered his questions, Aegon’s hand could slide onto your lap without him noticing.
"-The Faith of the Seven and the High Septon have often been at odds with House Targaryen and The Crown as a whole. It was only upon the ascension of King Jaehaerys that these bonds were finally mended,” said the old maester from his seat, “Can any of you tell me how this was achieved? Ah, Prince Aemond, yes.”
“King Jaehaerys refused to reinstate the Swords and Stars of the Faith, and removed the bounties King Maegor put on the heads of Warrior’s Sons and Poor Fellows. He then gave a white cloak to Ser Joffrey Doggett, who’d been part of the band of Warrior’s Sons, and he accepted it,” Aemond told him. “He swore to The Faith that The Crown will always protect and defend them from then on. It has been such ever since.”
“Indeed,” Maester Ryle nodded in approval.
You’d been listening to Maester Ryle go on about the history between their family and the followers of The Seven when a warm hand touched your knee. Looking over, you saw Aegon smirking. You stared down to see his hand sliding up and down your thigh slowly. Due to the tablecloth, Maester Ryle could not see the prince’s hand lifting your skirt inch by inch over your knees. You bit back a gasp as his bare fingertips grazed your flesh, smoothing over the curves and dips. The gentle touch made your toes curl inside your shoes; your thighs tensed at the sudden brush, and a warmth spread between your legs. Fingertips lightly dragging up and down your inner thigh, Aegon waited until you’d bitten your bottom lip to slide further up. The side of his hand pushed right up to your naked sex, he gripped the side tenderly to make you whimper.
“-Now, Queen Alyssa and her husband feared the marriage of Jaehaerys to his sister, Alysanne, might cause-Princess?”
He’d heard her. Damn the man. Aegon snickered softly but you merely stammered, “N-N-Nothing, Maester. Please, go on.” You turned your head and said low as possible, “Aegon…”
“What? This is boring,” he replied, doing the same.
You turned your attention to the lesson, while Aegon’s fingers made their way to your sex once more. His index finger sliding between your folds, his other two fingers kept them open while he used his index finger to tease the pearl they covered. The direct contact and unrelenting friction had you clenching your jaw and doing your best to stay firmly planted in your seat. Helaena, far too busy watching an ant crawl across her book, didn’t notice what was going on. Maester Ryle continued going on about history while Aemond listened and wrote notes. Soon, wetness began pooling there and Aegon took the chance to spread it over your lips and the hood of your clitoris. He let his fingers grind into your entrance, feeling your walls starting to flutter at their touch and making you grip your own book. It reminded you of the other day when you’d slipped your hand into his breeches during a ball, stroking him to completion and sending him into euphoria in a room full of people. You should’ve known he’d try getting back at you. He continued languidly rolling his two fingers around your clit, tracing the edges of the folds and dipping right beneath the nub to make you squeak. Any other time, he’d have you falling apart, especially if he used his tongue which he’d gotten so much better at. But now, you needed to keep yourself together or your mother will be hearing about it.
She still hadn’t forgotten what you’d done on the window ledge.
"-Can any of you tell me which house is closest to the Faith? Princess Y/N, would you care to guess?”
“Yes, dear sister,” Aegon smiled at you, “Which house is it? I forget.”
“Well, dear brother,” you replied without moaning, “It’s House Hightower, our mother’s family.”
“Ah, right. Yes, of course.”
“That is correct. House Hightower has maintained a very healthy relationship with the Faith for many generations…”
You didn’t hear how they maintained that relationship because once Aegon slipped a finger inside you, you nearly let out a moan which you disguised as a cough. His palm continuously rubbing against your clit while his finger pumped into you, you felt every single shiver of pleasure course through you. You wished more than anything you could drag him somewhere private in the library and let him finish you as he should. You already knew everything you needed to know about the various religions of the world and their importance to people. When Aegon added a second finger, you knew you were doomed. The boy had a way of making you weak without trying too hard. Not that you didn’t have the same effect on him in return.
He kept the pace slow and almost lazy, withdrawing his fingers slowly and pushing them back in tenderly. He couldn’t go much faster without the old man noticing his arm. It didn’t help that whenever you came close to orgasm, he stopped suddenly. The agony became far too much; the room suddenly felt hot and the need in you became far too ravenous to focus on anything else. Thankfully, the maester ended the lesson after he finished telling you all about The Faith of the Seven. He said they’d all talk about the royal progresses of the Old King and his queen next time. You nodded, and took a cackling Aegon by the hand. You didn’t stop walking until you reached his bed chambers, where you threw him onto his bed. Quickly, you untied his breeches while he worked on unbuttoning the front of your gown. Having access to your breasts, Aegon’s lips latched around them and suckled firmly while you withdrew his cock. You never put him inside, but you enjoyed rubbing your soaked pussy over his length until you both came.
And that’s what you did. You dragged your sex up and down his hard shaft and leaking head while he licked and teased your sensitive nipples. It did not take long for either of you to cum. Your parts exposed to one another and your passion burning hot, you didn’t hold back this time. Clutching the pillows underneath his head, your orgasm hit you hard. Thighs quivering and your body tensing all over, you humped Aegon’s cock until your clit became overstimulated by him. Aegon grabbed your ass and kept you still as he went along with you and came over his stomach. Cheeks red, hair spread over the pillows, and utter satisfaction on his face, Aegon always looked so beautiful after an orgasm. He looked beautiful all the time, even if others thought otherwise. Panting, you rested on top of him for a while, kissing and whispering words of love to one another.
“Thank god Maester Ryle is old and can’t walk,” you said, chuckling, “I’d hate to think of what he’d tell Mother is he’d seen us.”
“The same thing everyone else says,” he put on his best quavering tone as he said, “The young Prince Aegon and Princess Y/N were being rather inappropriate during their lesson this morning, Your Grace. It is behavior unbefitting a noble child. They must be put in proper order right away.”
“That is more or less what he told me.”
Her voice made you both jump apart, and cover yourselves. Your mother stood by the foot of the bed, arms crossed and disappointment on her face once again. She stared at you both for a moment, and shame immediately hit you. You truly should’ve conducted yourself in a more proper manner.
“Just because Maester Ryle is old doesn’t mean he is a fool,” she said, sighing. “Tell me you at least didn’t put it in.”
“He didn’t,” you shook your head. “He never does. I don’t let him.”
“Must you two behave this way? Think about the shame it brings on you both.”
“She’ll be my wife one day,” Aegon said, pulling his sheets over his crotch. “They should be happy the prince and princess show a healthy passion for one another. It implies that we’ll produce children….someday….”
Your mother took these words into consideration, “I suppose you’re right…but please, have some decency and do it behind closed doors. I am sick of hearing from everyone about the things they find you two doing. It is not something a mother wishes to hear.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Yes, we’re sorry, Mother.”
You watched her leave, then turned to each other as the door closed. Bursting into a fit of giggles, you both fell back on the bed and shared a soft kiss. “At least she didn’t scream this time,” you noted, letting him kiss down your neck.
“At least there’s that, yes,” he said, voice muffled by your skin. “Take off your dress,” he said, coming back up to kiss you, “I wish to see the rest of you.”
“Did you not just hear our mother?”
“Yes, I heard her say ‘do it behind closed doors’,” he then pointed to the door, “It’s closed and we’re behind it.” He knelt between your legs and lifted your leg. Kissing your inner thigh, he started untying the ribbons holding your stockings, “So, if you’ll indulge me, my sweet princess, I’d like us to spend the day drinking and pleasuring each other in any way we possibly can.”
“Hm,” you said thoughtfully, “I suppose you are right, my prince. That sounds like a wonderful idea.”
You slid further down the bed to reach his shirt. Your day was certainly going uphill after a boring lesson.
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