#I would give so much to have most of my twenties back as a single person and I mean that fully | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kookslastbutton · 2 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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kingtomura · 23 days

Text

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words. wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen.

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor.

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something.

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!”

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.”

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side.

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all.

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most.

You had no idea what he was up to.

Maybe he was as depressed as you were.

Maybe he’s found someone else.

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous.

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees.

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id.

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers.

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing.

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media.

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out.

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do.

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura.

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far.

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet.

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that.

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile.

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!”

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day.

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle.

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge.

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch.

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains.

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura.

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you.

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession.

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw.

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time.

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy.

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake.

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by.

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?”

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you.

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that.

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there.

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore.

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously?

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective.

But things are always easier said than done.

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly.

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you.

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination.

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment.

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down.

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now.

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it.

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard.

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall.

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet.

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to.

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen.

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away.

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him.

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of.

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on.

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections.

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull.

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face.

“Stop walking away from me!”

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner.

“What are you going to do about it?”

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch.

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you.

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment.

Cat and mouse.

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest.

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would.

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed.

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact.

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer.

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible.

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity.

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt.

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well.

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation.

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more.

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course.

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer.

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over.

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression.

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure.

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure.

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t.

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high.

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality.

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell.

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now.

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time.

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him.

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom.

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock.

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon.

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy.

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication.

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well.

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.”

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek.

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it.

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word.

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long.

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried.

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it.

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high.

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again.

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup.

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible.

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking.

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.”

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?”

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment.

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles.

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again.

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?”

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is.

“Tomura…”

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it.

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.”

And it’s the truth.

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss.

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine.

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki tomura x you #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut #shigaraki tomura smut #tomura shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you

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alonetimelover · 8 months

Note

Hi, was wondering if you could write a dadrry social media au? Could be about anything, just love to see that content ❤️ amazing work btw!

pairing: Harry Styles x famous!reader

summary: just dadrry and his sweet family of five

a/n: a little fic based in the famous!reader universe!

masterlist taglist famous!reader

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates, hArrysbtch and 65 292 others

harryupdates HARRY and his youngest baby were seen hiking in Italy!!

view all 2 029 comments

ynupdates that's certainly a way to hold a baby!

harrysmoustache FATHER IS HERE

stylesbabie you're the real one for putting this emoji on baby's face! i saw others not being so considerate

⤷ harryupdates of course! it's a child and besides the as it was bts neither yn or harry posted their face

harrysmylife here i thought he would stop walking so much after having children. nope! now, he's bringing them with himself!

ynsmymama i saw photos with their oldest baby there as well, yn's having some me time

hArrysbtch y'all here praising him for being a father and here i am staring at his arms. my man got some guns on himself

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, ynupdates and 6 492 392 others

yourinstagram being heavily pregnant during winter >>>>> during the summer

view all 230 201 comments

harrystyles You look flawlessly.

⤷ yourinstagram nothing you say will give back my biscuit

⤷ harrystyles We have two packs in the pantry.

⤷ yourinstagram yeah? but that one had the most raisins i've ever seen on a biscuit. and you ate it.

annetwist As soon as you'll be back in London I am taking kids for a week. I miss them!

⤷ yourinstagram you're the best, mum. can you take your child as well?

⤷ harrystyles Rude.

⤷ annetwist Of course! You need some alone time!

gemmastyles hello, sexy mama. are you single?

⤷ yourinstagram i am for the next twenty minutes. let's make the most of it. gelato?

ynupdates you're glowing

harryupdates what a beautiful family

ynsmymama how do you like the ball exercises? because i hated them during my pregnancy

⤷ yourinstagram hi child! and tbh i don't exercise on that ball. i just roll on it

⤷ ynsmybestie ICON

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YN via IG story

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harryupdates

liked by ynupdates and 34 202 others

harryupdates HARRY was seen walking to the hospital in London! It's the hospital where YN and him went to a few days ago.

view all 2 302 comments

ynupdates ohhhh, this is a fresh dad Harry

hArrysbtch that's the man that for the third time, THIRD TIME became a father

harrysmoustache DILF

ynsmybestie i love how cozy he looks

stylesbabie finally that big ass bag is full of necessary shit

harrysmylife when is he going to start wearing dad clothes? i can't wait to swoon over a man dressing like any father on the planet, because I will

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Harry via his IG story

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 45 392 others

harryupdates HARRY was at the playdate with both of his and YN's older kids!

view all 3 201 comments

hArrysbtch hot dad at the playdate???

stylesbabie i hope those mums and dads are respectful

harrysmylife i asked for a dad outfit and he delivered

⤷ harrysmoustache definitely! my dad dresses the same

ynupdates he looks good, fatherhood is treating him good

⤷ hArrysbtch i wouldn't expect anything else

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dailymail

liked by user45 and 279 302 others

dailymail Harry Styles and wife, YN YSN, were asked to leave the restaurant after customers and staff were disturbed by YN breastfeeding their newborn. Our source says that after having a conversation, led by YN, the manager of the restaurant didn't change his decision. Harry escorted YN and their child to the car and then came back to have a talk with the management of the restaurant. Apparently, he was visibly furious and on the edge of losing his temper. After a discussion and manager's attempts to apologise, Harry stormed off.

view all 23 201 comments

harryupdates I'm not surprised he was furious! was yn supposed to starve their child?

ynupdates it's 21st century and people are still scared of women breastfeeding

ynsmybestie who was disturbed, men or women?

⤷ stylesbabie the article said it was three men complain

⤷ ynsmybestie I'm sadly not surprised

ynsmymama if they were so bothered by her breastfeeding near others, they could propose her some private room and not throw them out of the restaurant!

⤷ ynsmybestie but they shouldn't have a problem with it. she shouldn't leave restaurant for feeding her child

⤷ ynsmymama of course! but wanting to please all the customers you adjust to the situation. they didn't do thag

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yourinstagram

liked by harrystyles, annetwist, ynupdates, harryupdates and 8 302 302 others

yourinstagram Hello, you little people in my phone! As most of you know (because of Daily Mail) two days ago, my husband, our child, and I were asked to leave the restaurant we ate at, because of causing disturbance to other customers. The said disturbance was me breastfeeding our child. Before our waiter and then the manager talked with us, my husband took a picture (above) (he really takes pictures of everything) showing what was visible while breastfeeding (A BREAST !!). There really was no conversation between two parties. When asked if covering myself with a cloth would be more comfortable, I was just once again asked to leave the restaurant. No person should be forbidden to feed their children in public. I shouldn't have asked if covering myself would be more comfortable with others. No. We shouldn't accept this kind of non written 'rules'. With everything said, I wasn't going to let our child starve and went to feed her in a car, so no stranger eyes could see a breast. In the link in bio you can find a great article about breastfeeding in public and what parents go through to please the strangers being bothered by a flesh of naked skin. Be kind to each other. YN.

view all 349 302 comments

harrystyles You are the best mother our children could have. And the best partner I could find and share the life with.

⤷ yourinstagram I love you.

annetwist ♥️♥️

gemmastyles You tell'em sister

ynupdates I am so mad that you needed to made a statement about it. sick.

harryupdates people are very delicate when it comes to breastfeeding but have no problem with parading without a shirt on

hArrysbtch im just gonna focus on how precious that picture is, and the fact that harry is that type of a father to snap pictures of everything

⤷ yourinstagram he really is, those 256gb are straining and in need of expanding

⤷ harrystyles Not my fault they don't allow SD cards anymore.

⤷ hArrysbtch we love a millennial

harrysmoustache that restaurant is going to flood with negative reviews right now

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harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist and 11 291 492 others

harrystyles To the best woman I know, thank you for choosing me to be your partner and father of our beautiful children. There is no moment in the day or night when I don't think about how lucky and fulfilled I feel spending my life with you. Happy birthday, my love. Your, H.

comments to this post have been limited

yourinstagram Come downstairs. There are now words to describe my love.

annetwist Happy birthday, YN. I believe there could be no other person more perfect to be in our lives.

gemmastyles Happy birthday, wifey!!!

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a/n: should i write some blurbs about dadrry?

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles instagram #harry styles fake ig #harry styles one shot #famous!reader #dad!harry

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the-soliloquies-of-sadists · 28 days

Text

#399

“Oh man, Fuck!... Oh sorry you had to hear that call. Didn’t mean to interrupt you enjoying your brew. It’s just that my girlfriend makes me so fucking pissed off…. Get this, she knows I work 14 days straight busting my ass on that drilling rig. I am about to head home for four days of rest. That’s a 7-hour drive, each way. So she tells me that her sister and mother are in town staying with us. My days of relaxing are shot to shit. And worse yet there’s no way I’m getting her pussy. I probably won’t even get head. Ain’t that shit?...

“Oh sorry. I forget that I’m not with a dozen or so other roughnecks out in the field. All they talk about is pussy. Most of them don’t have a girlfriend, let alone a wife. Hearing them go on and on about fucking and getting a blow job, I forget that other people might talk about something else.

“My god, I just wanted to get home and kick back with a beer and get some head. You know the kind of blowjob that goes on for an hour and it relaxes your entire body. That doesn’t even include blowing your wad. You know what I’m talking about?

“Oh there I go again. Sorry if I’m telling too much.... I do that when I start drinking. Do you care if I talk about getting blown?... Good. Thought so. What man doesn’t want head at the end of weeks of working damned hard?

“…Here’s to blowjobs! Cheers!

“Hey Frank! Get my friend here another beer…. Nah! Put your money away. I got this.

“So your car broke down?... We are one of two taverns for twenty miles. The other is by the interstate one mile away. At this time of day it’s quite deserted. We typically only get locals in here. That is, unless you are having work done at Mike Larson’s garage. There’s not that much out here, just the garage, Frank’s tavern, the lodge, and the oilfield’s main office over there across the creek. Was I right? Is it your car?

“…That was not a happy nod. So, you’re here for tonight… Oh wait, the garage is closed for the weekend. You are here until Monday? …Again, that nod tells me everything. Well to make matters worse, there are no available women for at least 50 or 60 miles. This is what this hellhole has to offer.

“I don’t know about you but it looks like it’s going to be an evening of pounding the pud. And when I get done, I’ll use my other hand to make it feel like I’m getting a handjob from someone else.

“Goddamn my girlfriend fucked this all up. I only had this weekend off, before I have to report back here to start filling in for a bud on Wednesday. She thought that I would want to spend time with her fucking family. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still with her.

“You have a wife or girlfriend?...

“…Huh! Well, sometimes I wish I was like you, single. But sometimes I really need to get my balls drained. She gives great head though. She’s the only girlfriend I had who can take my head in her throat. I have a big schlong, and every woman I dated complained about its size. It takes her a long time to throat me. Most of the time I get frustrated, and I wind up grabbing her head and fucking her mouth. Eventually it ends in her throat. She has never taken me down to the root.

“But I really have to be buzzed to get into skull fucking the bitch. The part she really hates is me dick slapping her. As I said, I have a gigantic dick. Smacking her upside her head with my cock usually throws her off balance. So does a face slap with my hand.

“When I get in the zone, I am all kinds of aggressive. I am only after one thing, to bust my nut. If that means roughing up the bitch, then she’s going to get roughed up. If I’m drunk enough, I’ll not only fuck her cunt, but she’ll take me in her ass.

“Right now, if she were here, I would be fucking her in every position in every hole. I wouldn’t care if she was enjoying it. I’m so fucking horny. I would use any woman right now. I can’t have a weekend of jerking off. Hell, if there was a faggot, I would use him the same way.

“And it’s a good thing that I have a faggot sitting not ten feet away from me, paying attention to every word I say, licking his lips every time I mention blowjobs, and responding with awkward silence when I asked if he had a bitch back home. No straight man acts this way.

“I would ask you if you are a cock sucking faggot, but we both know the answer. Don’t we? So this is what is going to happen. I’m going to walk over there, to the men’s toilet. You want my fat hog in your faggot throat, you follow me in. Don’t say a word. Get on your faggot knees and open your faggot mouth.

“I’ll give you until I drain my piss. If you don’t come in at that time, then you better be out of here and hide in your room at the lodge.

“I really got to piss, so you don’t have much time….

“…Well fuck. I would have thought you would have taken some time to think about it. But OK.

“I really have to piss. While I do that get in the stall and on your knees. Be ready for me. I swear, the beers just pour right through me. Oh, this feels good—

“What the fuck? I’m not done pissing…. Oh? So, you are one of those kinds of faggots. Nasty piss drinking faggot! Oh fuck, your mouth feels good. You are definitely getting a reaction out of my hog. That’s it for my piss for now.

“Faggot, see how big it is? You think you can take it?

“Jesus fuck! Right to the root with no problem! Holy shit. You faggots know what you are doing. Oh man. This is… fuck! Oh my god!

“Bob up and down. Go head-to-root-to-head-to-root. Fuck! This is the blowjob I have been looking for all my life. Lucky me I found me a faggot with car problems.

“Pull off. I said, ‘Pull off!’ Look up at me. Hold still….

“…What? Nothing? I just gave you one of the hardest bitch slaps I have ever given and you just take it…. Wait, what did you just say? Did you just thank me… for bitch slapping you?

“Get up. Get your faggot-ty ass up. Let’s go. Move!

“We are going to my room at the lodge. You are going to spend your night with me.

“Pay Frank your tab and leave a good tip. Meet me outside… A fifty? You know what a good tip is, that or you didn’t care to wait for him to give you change.

“OK faggot. I have never used a fag before. But damn, that one minute in the toilet told me I have been missing out.

“Over here. I’m the last room. The lodge is free for us roughnecks. The company pays for our housing. My room is at the end. It’s a glorified motel room. I have tons of beer. You won’t get any, at least not without it going through me first. Never did that before, but fuck I liked it.

“I plan on being here for four days. You are going to spend your time with me and my cock down your throat. You probably take it up your ass. I will definitely try that out.

“Now listen up. I have no interest in you or your dick. I ain’t sucking you or getting fucked by you. You try anything like that, and I will beat the shit out of you. Understand me?... Understand me faggot?

“And keep up the ‘Yes Sir!’ I like the sound of that. Here we are. Faggot this is all new for me. But I will tell you this, I am liking what has been done so far. I’m so ready to do this. My cock has not lost it’s hard on. I may never go back. Faggot get inside and strip!”

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heartfullofleeches · 2 months

Text

[+18]

V and fuckboy playboy/wingman male Darling-

Hear me out-

Darling is the son of some other loaded family that has close ties with V's. The two cross paths at a gathering and their parents urge them to make friends. Darling plays video games. V plays video games. They exchange numbers with some persuasion from their folks and set up a time to play something together although begrudgingly on V's end. V ends up having a better time than he expected, but right before he really starts to enjoy his time with Darling - he tells V he has to head out.

"Nice meeting you, dude. We gotta do this again. I got a girl coming over and I gotta bounce."

And just like that V's hopes are crushed. He's still learning about his attraction towards guys, but - Darling was sorta cute....

"oh....so you have a girlfriend."

Darling laughs.

"Nah, man. Haven't found the right girl...or guy to tie me down yet, plus I'm just enjoying the single life for now.... I can send pics after we're done if you want. She's totally chill and likes when I show her off."

Pictures?.... V agrees - thinking not much of it. He goes back to playing and eventually it slips from his mind. Hours later he receives photos of what looks to be a topless girl in a dimly lit room. She smiles big at the camera - eyes and upper face blocked from sight by the shaft of the bastard with her cheek pressed to his inner thigh. He still had on the same pair of sweats V had seen him in earlier that day. He only met this guy not even twenty-four hours ago and now he's seen his dick. Even worse - there's a pretty girl with her lipstick and spit all over it in the same picture. V's pissed - yet the image magically appears in one of his porn holders later on."

"what the hell...."

"My bad! I thought you might like it. You don't seem like a guy who gets a lot of action... If you ever want to meet someone, just give me a call. I know a lot of people who'd be interested in a rich brat like you."

This guy.... he acts like he's any different. V thinks Darling is a freak to put things lightly, but its not like he has other people to hang out with. As the two hang out V sees that Darling isn't as bad as he first seemed. He's still a horny, inconsiderate prick most days - but he's still the best thing V has to a friend and cares for V in his own way..... Still sends V dick pics he sweats were for someone els.

Darling is genuinely surprised that V has never been with someone. Sure, he doesn't seem like he gets that much attention, but he was sure V had at least kissed someone once. The topic comes up when Darling tries for the hundredth time to hook with up with one of his flings. He's always sending V evidence of the nights he spent with strangers. Oddly enough - V only ever complains about the videos and photos when they don't have darling in them as well.

"Damn.... I know you're a pain in the ass sometimes, but you're cute I thought somebody would've looked past that.....

V hates with Darling says shit like that. He's not used to people flirting with him and... and it gives him false hope. "Shut up....

"So, think she's cute? I can give her your number~"

"I don't want it."

This sucks.... By now, V's fully aware of his crush on Darling - and he fucking hates the bastard for what he's doing to him. If Darling is so concerned about him seeing people why doesn't he just take V out instead. He jerks off to everything Darling sends him wondering when he'll get his turn. V has some solace in the fact Darling rare sees any of his partners twice. V has been with him and always will be with him longer than any of them have. He just has to be patient.....and ruin any chances Darling has of being with anyone else.

V nearly jumps out of his skin reading one of Darling's numerous drunken texts.

"Hey, man. Totally speaking out my ass here, but would you ever be down to have a threesome sometime ;)"

#V my oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere drabble #yandere smut #male reader

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mrs-kmikaelson · 9 months

Text

Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-” you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better.

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable.

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would’ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better.

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish.

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter.

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you.

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same.

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to.

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade

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binsito · 9 months

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skz and dirty talk - like their fav phrases or something??

(i absolutely adore your writing btw, keep up the good work!! 🫶)

thank you sm lovie!! so glad you like my writing!! ♡ hope u like this, i literally had about twenty mental break downs imagining how hot this would be 😵‍💫

bangchan: there's days where he spits straight filth at you or days when he just wants to call you his little princess. he's the kind of guy that cannot stop rambling on and on during sex about whatever is on his mind. he's very vocal and open about his pleasure. "f-fuck princess.. you love daddy's cock hm? s'good i-i dont wanna pull out.." he whines into your neck. he gets so weak and turns into putty when he's inside you. lee know: he likes watching your ears turn red and have you squirm under his gaze. he'll be out with you at dinner with friends and would lean over to whisper the most absurd thing you could ever imagine in a public setting.

"this place is so boring.. just wanna bend you over on this table and fuck you raw right now.."

he would make you so flustered because what if someone heard? how shameless of him to want these people to watch you get fucked over their dinner. changbin: he likes to come up to you from behind while you're doing mundane house chores like laundry or dishes. he knows it'll make you drop whatever you're doing, running his hands up your sides and even giving your ass a little squeeze. "such a shame you aren't in bed with me right now baby.. i could have my mouth all over you.." fuck the dishes, your binnie is needy and wants you in the sheets! you can deal with cleaning later, that's least important at the moment. when he gets you in bed, he loves to boast about how his cock is going to split you and how you shouldn't neglect him again because he always fucks you so good. hyunjin: "gonna fuck you silly.. like my little slut.. full of my cum." when he's feeling you wrap your pussy around his cock, he can't stop the vile shit leaving his pretty mouth. he just loves leaving you full of him, making you hold every last drop and making sure you don't waste any of his precious cum. he'll degrade you, sure - but he wants you to know he doesn't really mean it afterwards while he's giving you aftercare. he loves his little baby so much and just wanted to make her orgasm hard. you think his versatility is sexy and definitely do cream around him, shaking at the sensation. jisung: "let me taste you, baby girl please.." jisung does not care the time or place, if he wants to bury his face in your cunt, he will succeed in doing so. you could be out with friends, in a fitting room, at home - not a single fuck is given. standing, sitting, bent over, he is not picky, he just wants to play with your cute clit and lap at you hungrily. do him a favor and spread your legs for him, please ♡? he gets impatient easy and feels no embarrassment when he pulls you aside to the nearest restroom. felix: you'd be the one to initiate the dirty talk, whispering in his ears how you're not wearing any panties under your dress. his cute eyes would get blown out as his breath hitches, he couldn't believe you were being soo naughty ♡

"i don't think i'd be able to hold myself back if you keep this up baby.." he warns you, but you don't want him to hold back. quite the opposite actually. you want him to whisk you away, forget about this holiday party, get in the car and drive home as fast as possible. although poor lixie couldn't wait to get home so he just took you in the back of his car, delighted to see your cunt ready to play under your silky dress.

seungmin: "i can't wait to fucking use you." seungmin is very dominant, he was tired of you being such a brat lately and was going to teach you a lesson. why couldn't you just be a good girl and wait for him to get home? you kept sending him tempting messages while he was away and he had enough. the video of you touching yourself while calling out to him made him stiffen uncomfortably in his pants. it was his absolute breaking point, you better prepare your pussy because he will not be going easy on you. jeongin: "wanna fuck you while you wear this, baby" he had come home with a bag in hand, pulling out the cutest lingerie set you'd ever seen. it was light pinky and frilly, crotchless for easier access and the thong was so teeny that it made you chuckle. the bra was completely see through and when you put it on, he salivated at the sight of your hard buds poking through the mesh. he fucked you face down into the bed while holding your arms behind your back. unfortunately, he was so hasty that he ended up ruining the set, ripping the delicate fabric. he didn't care though, he had bought an extra set because he knew this would happen.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

#binsito #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #skz x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #bangchan smut #lee know smut #changbin smut #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #lee felix smut #seungmin smut #jeongin smut #skz smut imagine #stray kids smut imagine

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hees-mine · 4 months

Text

𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 - 𝐋.𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐭.𝟔

Pairing: heeseung ⚥ reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, crying, angst, taboo relationship, cursing, hee is a lil sensitive.

Genre: 18+, best friends dad, smut, single dad, taboo relationship, minors do not interact!

WC: 2,682k

⟱ ⟱ ⟱

You were not all too fond of the way Heeseung was actively ignoring you every time you stepped foot into his home, but you understood, and it would be selfish of you to want him to treat you cordially after everything.

He barely looked at you, let alone talked to you other than a forced greeting, and that was it.

As much as you hated him ignoring you, there was something else you hated even more, which you didn't know was possible.

But apparently, it was when you saw Heeseung dressed in an all-black suit, spraying himself with expensive cologne and getting ready for his "date."

It hurt you weren't going to lie.

Knowing he was going to see another girl made you seethe on the inside. The fact he dressed up the same way for her as he would when he came to see you made you feel sick.

You hated feeling all these emotions, but you hated feeling this one the most.

Jealousy.

You were never a jealous person until today, and the feeling was annoying, especially cause you couldn't do anything about it. And on top of that, it was all your fault you were frustrated with yourself for being a bad friend and for leading heeseung on knowing there was no prospect of a relationship for you and him together.

"You look great, Dad," his daughter complements him while adjusting his tie, making sure it is neat and straight.

"Thank you, sweetpea." You watched the whole scene unfold in the living room, and you could feel tears pricking your eyes so as not to cause a scene. You got up and went upstairs.

Heeseung noticed you going upstairs, and before he stared too long, he quickly looked away and put on his finishing touches before going out on his date.

He originally wasn't going to even entertain the thought, but when he saw you and Jake all cuddle up and giggling with each other twenty-four-seven, he knew he no longer stood a chance, and he figured it was time to move on, and what better way to do that than to go on a date.

Besides seeing you and Jake being inseparable, there was one instance that made him lose all hope. Sure, he hated seeing you both interact and be friendly with each other, but he could take that. What he couldn't take was when he walked into his daughter's room to ask what she'd like for dinner and was met with you and Jake sitting on her bed, faces mere inches apart. He remembers it like yesterday.

Flashback

"Hey sweet-"he stopped in his tracks, eyes going wide and heart pounding in his chest at the sight of you so close to a man that wasn't him. He quickly put on a straight face, trying to act like the sight didn't just break his heart right into two.

Your head whipped in Heeseung's direction, and you swore you saw a flash of hurt cross his face, and before you could say anything, Jake was pleading his case to the elder so he wouldn't get in trouble. "Sir, it's not what it looks like, I swear." Jake scooted away from you and tucked his hands under his thighs.

Heeseung tucked his lips in, giving Jake a firm nod and lowering his head before walking out of the room with a flustered Jake rushing after him.

"Sir, I was just helping her! She had an eyelash stuck an-" heeseung stopped at the end of the staircase the scared boy bumping into his back with the sudden halt.

Heeseung turned around with a neutral expression. "What you two do isn't my business, but since this is the second warning, I'm gonna have to ask you to stop coming over" jakes shoulders immediately slumped down, and the pout on his lips almost made heeseung feel sorry, but the only person he felt sorry for was himself cause not only did you practically just dump him off and leave him in the middle of nowhere you also had the fucking nerve to bring a guy over and kiss him under the same roof you both once kissed in. the anger he felt in his body was astronomical he felt like punching in a wall or better yet, jakes face, but he controlled himself.

"We weren't kissing, I promise!" Jake pleaded his case. "I respect and look up to you a lot, and I wouldn't want to disrespect you in any way." Heeseung sighed, not knowing what to believe at this point.

The first time he met Jake and Jay, his daughter's crush, they impressed him way more than he thought. They were both upstanding young men. They had a lot of goals and ambitions, plus they were the most respectful people he'd met in quite a while. Their handshakes were firm and not lousy, their smiles were genuine, and after conversing over dinner with the two, he approved a hundred and ten percent.

Though he did trust them fully yet, he gave them strict rules: no funny business under his roof, they must clean up after themselves, and they must be out no later than eight.

The rules were simple and easy to follow, and up til this far, they were meeting all his terms and conditions, and to say he was disappointed when he caught you and Jake together would be an understatement.

After your initial shock, you followed them, stopping at the end of the staircase behind Jake. "Y/n, tell him we weren't doing anything." Jake looked at you with puppy eyes, knowing you'd back him fully cause he was telling the full truth.

You made eye contact with Heeseung, and you could tell he was angry. "W-we weren't doing anything, s-sir," you stuttered. It felt so strange calling him that out of the usual context.

His breath hitched in his throat. Hearing the word sir fall from your lips sounded oh so sweet. How he wished you still called him that while you were on your back, laid out for him while he buried every last inch of himself inside you.

In just a few seconds, he relived all your time together. He was so caught up in his thoughts just from hearing you say one word that he didn't hear Jake still begging for his forgiveness.

At some point, he snapped out of it, tearing his eyes from you with a slight shake of his head. "F-fine, but just go home. It's almost eight."

"Thank you, sir!" Jake said gratefully.

Heeseung strutted to his office, mind riddled with thoughts of the unholy kind mixed with frustrations, and he had never felt this annoyed before. He wanted to be mad at you, but hearing you call him sir after such a long time made the front of his pants feel tight. "Fuck” he exhaled a deep breath and leaned against the door, fingers fiddling with the lock on the knob before he sat in his desk chair.

He hated how bad his cock throbbed in his slacks. He felt so pathetic and so weak for getting riled up so easily, but how could he not? Your hair looked perfect. You were wearing casual clothes, and you looked so comfortable and cuddly. That was his favorite look on you, which explains why his cock is leaking and straining beneath his clothes.

He leaned his head back and spread his legs open, palm pathetically rubbing over the hardness between his legs.

He moans from just the smallest contact, not having touched himself since your guy's little falling out. To say he was pent-up would be an understatement.

The more he rubbed himself, the more he felt like it wasn't enough. Nothing could compare to your touch. Not even his trusty right hand could do the trick for him.

He just needed you.

But that wouldn't happen cause even if you and Jake didn't kiss, you were so close to each other that he's sure you were no longer thinking about him.

End of flashback

"Here's my card if you need anything at all. Call me okay, sweetheart."

"I know, I know, don't worry about me. Just go have fun for once." She practically had to push him out of the door to get him to leave.

She smiled and hoped that his date would go well cause even though he hid it well, she could tell the divorce took a toll on him, and all she wanted was to see her dad happy and in love like he used to be.

The date did indeed go well, just not the type of well she had hoped, though Heeseung had fun, and his date was undeniably charming and gorgeous. He didn't feel butterflies the way he felt with you. His smile wasn't as wide as when he was with you, and nothing in his heart felt like it was drawn to her other than a friend, a good friend, but nonetheless, just a friend.

Or maybe he was jinxing himself into thinking that way.

To be sure he wasn't, he went on three more dates, and they were the same. He laughed and smiled. He had fun, but deep down, he knew he wished it was you instead.

"So, how did it go?" His daughter asked excitedly, just like she had with all the previous dates he had gone on.

"Good." he gave her a lopsided smile.

You were in the living room listening in on the conversation, but you couldn't quite hear. You muted the TV, turning your head in the direction of the kitchen where they were talking.

"Just good?" You hear your friend say quizzically.

"Yeah, and we decided we're better off as just co-workers," he says regretfully, but ultimately, it was better off that way for the both of them. They shouldn't have to settle for anything less than they deserve just cause they got along well.

"Aww, Dad, I'm sorry," he chuckles softly, draping his arm around her shoulder.

"No need to be, sweetheart, I'm just waiting for the right one." he engulfs her saddened figure in a hug and meets your eyes from the kitchen. You jump in shock from the sudden eye contact, but you can't help but stare as he says those words while looking straight into your soul.

After a few seconds, you broke eye contact and unmuted the TV, pretending that never happened.

"You're such a romantic," she laughs, releasing her dad from the hug.

"What can I say?" He smiles sheepishly before ruffling her hair. "I'm headed to bed. Get some rest soon, okay? And tell your friends to come over for dinner tomorrow."

"Will do," she beams excitedly, happy that her dad approved of her crush. "Goodnight, Dad."

"Night, sweetpea," Heeseung went to his room, plopping down on his bed with a loud sigh, wondering what to do from here. He obviously isn't moving on from you, so what's a man to do?

Hours later, and he still hadn't an answer, he just stared at the ceiling, mind occupied with you, until he heard a soft knock on his door. He almost thought he imagined it from how quiet it was.

You were beyond happy Heeseung only thought of his date as a co-worker, but that was enough to give you more than a scare. The thought of him moving on with someone else terrified you, and you couldn't imagine how you'd live knowing he was happy without you.

So before anyone else got the chance, you were going to try to reconcile with him before it was too late.

"Sweetheart, I thought I told you to res-" The expression on Heeseung's face was as if he'd seen a ghost. He went silent, almost too silent, staring at you in complete shock. "What do you want?" He says in a monotone, quickly fixing his face and putting on a cold expression.

"I- I wanted to see if we could talk," you shifted nervously.

He scoffed. "I don't see why"

You sighed, heart, feeling heavy cause you had never seen him act this way towards you. He always treated you like you were the most precious thing to him. "I know I made a mistake, but I want you back."

"Don't say that," he says shakily, his eyes fluttering shut with nothing but a look of despair. "You can't just walk out and leave me with nothing and then show up like this."

"I-I know, and trust me when I say I messed up. I was scared we'd get caught, and I didn't want to ruin our relationship or my friendship with your daughter, so I did what was best and ended it," you said calmly despite your racing heart.

He sits up in bed, clear agitation on his face. "You're fucking kidding me. You did what was best? By fucking leaving and making me question what I fucking did to deserve this, you blocked my fucking number without even letting me apologize, and then the nerve to walk in here and say you did your best? Please help me understand because I'm trying, but I'm coming up with nothing but bullshit sounds to me like you gave me up cause you were scared" he's happy that it was dim in his room cause he could feel the hot tears welling in his eyes he hated just how vulnerable he could be with you the way he let his guard down, and his emotions flow like an endless river scared him cause it let you know just how much power you held over him you were capable of breaking his heart and he couldn't do a thing about it, he felt so helpless just like he did during his divorce. "Was I just an easy fuck for you? Did my feelings mean nothing? Did you ever even care about me? Cause if you did, then why?" He asked you everything that’s been eating him up for the past weeks.

"Why what?" You whispered, throat feeling tight and restrained due to all the emotions you felt after hearing him pour his heart out to you.

"Why did you give me up so easily? Sure, it was wrong, but you didn't even try to fight for us or for me. Was our relationship so meaningless that you just turned your back cause you were scared? I mean, we didn't even get caught, and you were already cracking under the pressure, are your feelings more important than our whole relationship?

"Heeseung, I'm sorry." You wanted to express yourself as well as him, but that's all that comes out.

"No, you're not! We could have done this together. We could have thought of a way to make it work, we could have been honest, and things might have turned out bad, but I think it would have been a whole hell of a lot better at least saying we tried, to at least say we fought for our love but no because you were scared!" you tried to walk towards him, but he was quick to dismiss you. "You know what? Just fucking go," his voice broke, and you could clearly see he was crying, and you couldn't help but kneel down by his bed, your hand resting on his cheek touching it softly.

"Heeseung"

Despite his words, he leaned into your touch, immediately feeling calmed by your presence alone. "Please, y/n, just go before I fall for you more" he said with raw emotions, praying that you listened to him cause if you didn't, he was too fucking weak to tell you again.

You removed your hand from his cheek the warmth instantly leaving both of your bodies. "Ok," you whispered, and stood up so you could leave, the least you could do was respect his wishes. "I just want you to know that if I could go back, I would have changed the way I did everything the day I ended things between you and i. I would have fought for you, I would have tried harder, and I would have told you I love you."

You closed the door, leaving Heeseung to cry all by himself, and even though there was no getting back together, you wanted to tell him those words cause if you had another chance, you would do it all better than the last time.

⟱ ⟱ ⟱

Thanks for reading please reblog and leave feedback.

#heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heeseung smut #heeseung #enhypen #enhypen hyung line #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen lee heeseung smut #lee heesung x reader

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partycatty · 1 month

Text

older!johnny cage > overheard

you're caught in the act of swooning over your boss

notes: i'm not even fuckin playing i just woke up from my nap in a cold sweat with this idea haunting my mind so here i am. i truly honestly genuinely cannot stop thinking about dilf johnny and his thick fucking arms and how much i want him to [REDACTED]

[ masterlist ]

• during your break from training, you managed to squeeze in a meal break with one of your closest friends. it was just the two of you, laughing and for once breaking the stoicism implanted into your demeanors from training ruthlessly.

• "jesus, commander cage really kicked our asses today," your friend whined, rolling her shoulder. "i get we're fighting against demons and elementals, but did we really need to run twenty miles?"

• "it wasn't all bad," you shrug, poking at your food. "we've done worse, i feel."

• "oh hush, you had the time of your life," your friend groaned, lightly pushing into your shoulder with a smirk. "you and johnny cage got to run beside each other in formation." your friend was sure to say his name in an announcer voice, wiggling her fingers as she pretended to read a large sign.

• you huff, planting a fist on the table as you try to conceal your embarrassment with faux anger. "oh my god shut up..."

• your mind wanders to earlier in the day. johnny decided to wear only a tank top instead of a long sleeve with a vest, giving you a delicious view of his arms as they pumped during the run. while you two didn't talk, he shared panting encouragements by your side, telling you you were doing so good and how much further you had left. it made running feel almost impossible as each word and grunt knocked the wind from you.

• "jesus, look at you," your friend laughs at your dreamy expression as you replay the memory. "you're down bad, girl, anyone and their mother could tell."

• "is it that obvious?" you murmur, burying your face with your hands. "i'm doomed."

• "nah, you might have a shot," she insists, pulling your hands from your face. "he might be into younger women, most celebrities are."

• "but he's not just a celebrity, he's our superior," you whine, rolling your head back. "i just watch his movies and pretend i'm the love interest."

• "oh, it's bad bad," she laughs, looking past you for a moment. her smile falters.

• "can you blame me? ugh," you rake a hand through your hair. "he's all muscle, he could just pick me up and snap me like a twig! normally i'd settle for height alone but holy fuck he's built like a brick fucking wall!"

• your friend falls silent.

• "and don't even get me started on his age," you point an accusatory finger. "he is 50 something and so fucking fine i can't even bring myself to focus on literally anything ever. i watched some of his old movies, and he literally aged like the finest fucking wine any vineyard has ever even dreamed of making! thank god his daughter is the commander because if he stood around and told me what to do i'd behave so much like a dog it would embarrass me. he is the god damn devil in disguise and i sure a shit don't have a single chance of him even looking in my direction with any more than a smile because at the end of the day i'm just a sad little recruit crushing on a guy who probably has a massive di—"

• "i'm fifty-nine," you hear a low, horrifyingly familiar voice in your ear. you can't even bring yourself to turn around, smile dropping and eyes widening. the only thing you can bring yourself to do is stare across the table at your friend, who's as equally still. maybe if you were still enough, he wouldn't see you. like a dinosaur.

• "lieutenant," you breathe out after a long silence, drunk on the smell of his cologne. "we were just... t-talking about you."

• "oh yeah?" his voice is rumbly, a teasing inflection making you want to burst out in tears. you had a faint suspicion he was behind you the entire time, something he confirmed before you could muster the strength to speak. "sounded more like it was just you."

• "well," you wonder if you can outrun him, stammering as you try to talk yourself out of this. "you know..."

• you finally get the courage to spin in your chair, turning around to face him. he's towering over your sitting form, a shit-eating smirk on his lips.

• "i'm sorry, sir, i'll... i'll do extra push-ups, i'll go overtime on training, scrub the toilets, anything to—"

• he holds a hand up, waving it away as he shakes his head slowly.

• "don't stress it," he stands up straight, crossing his arms. oh my god his arms. "but, uh... just a word, in my office, when you have the chance." you almost miss the wink he sends at you, but you caught it just as he spun on his heel and walked out, a cocky sway to his hips.

• you spin back around, slack jawed at your friend, who's red from holding in her scream of excitement.

• "he's totally gonna bang you on his desk," she finally spits out, covering her mouth immediately after. you just lower your head, hitting it against the table in defeat.

• who knows what he's gonna do to you in his office?

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mk11 #marley writes ☆

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bluehourbucky · 1 year

Text

Love from afar

pairing: rockstardad!bucky x fpregnatmom!reader

summary: bucky is away on tour and you're catching up via face time.

a/n: new pictures of Sebastian got me feeling some type of way. also don't mind the kid names I don't know duhshd

-if you'd like to be tagged please let me know! tag list is open! so are my asks

warnings : sexual content / pregnancy / almost mas*uba*on / dirty talk

masterlist

bucky masterlist

rockstardad!bucky [extra content]

DO NOT COPY OR STEAL MY WORK

_______________________________________

18+ only

Minors please don't interact

Having two kids, one of them being a toddler, does not make life easy, especially when your husband is across the globe.

You're proud of Bucky for achieving his dreams and going on a world tour with his band. However, he didn't have to get you pregnant before leaving for 6 months. To be fair, the tour was scheduled months before you even got pregnant.

Bucky and you talked about trying for another baby when he came back, but by the time he comes back, you will be well into your seventh month.

When you found out you were expecting, Bucky almost cancelled the tour because he straight up refused to leave you. It took a lot of conversation and favours to make Bucky change his mind about cancelling the tour.

Buckys sister Rebecca was a huge part of this working out, she's been incredibly helpful and you couldn't thank her enough.

Today, though, you were alone with the kids. Luckily, your kids are very well-behaved, and you stopped minding the absolute mess your house has been since having kids.

Lately, you've been missing Bucky, he's been a huge part of both your pregnancies. He was and is such a hands-on father and husband, so going through this without him is scary. Bucky calls every day no matter the time zone he's in at the time of breakfast - the most chaotic time of the day aside from bed time.

You smile, seeing his name pop on your phone screen, you swipe, and are met with his beautiful blue eyes.

"Good morning, doll. Looking as gorgeous as always. How are you doing? And little one? And our little trouble makers?" Bucky asks, he's literally a second away from buying plane tickets every single time you send him a picture of you or your kids or you three together.

He looks so good, that you don't know if it's the hormones making you horny or it's just the regular horny you get when you see him.

It's been a while since he had let his hair grow out, mostly because the kids have been obsessed with pulling it, and worst of all, they tried to consume it. Now, being on tour, he let it grow since no one tried to eat it yet.

Bucky didn't visit since he knew that he wouldn't be able to leave again, so he called as much as he could. He missed you more than his heart could take, but this years tour has been the biggest one they ever went to.

You can't help but look at your husband with hunger and love in your eyes, the hair tie on his wrist making you hot all over.

"We're good. Missing you lots, but we're okay. Leo and Theo are trouble as always, but they're good." Bucky smiles at the names of his two boys. He loves them more than anything, but he's secretly hoping that the third would be a girl. He's been dreaming of being a little girls dad. She would be his princess, and he would spoil her endlessly. Not that he doesn't spoil each and every one of you already, but he would be unstoppable.

"Lemme see you, give me a turn doll." You roll your eyes but do it nonetheless. You set the phone on the kitchen counter and lean it on the bottle of water. Bucky smiles wide when he sees your bump, he wishies he could be there and talk to it and give it kisses like he had done other two times.

"Looking good, Mamma, wish I was there with you, miss you a lot." he without fail manages to make you blush even after twenty years of being together. You turn to the side and lift your shirt to give him a better view. Bucky turns into a human heart eye emoji when he looks at his wife and not only are his band members teasing him about it but so are his fans.

"Damn, look at you. Shit I'd do anything to have be there, I would have you naked in our bed, you're so sensitive right now and I'm not there to enjoy it. You're killing me doll."

You whimper quietly, he's the one that's killing you. The two of you enjoyed pregnancy sex way too much, and he's right you're extra sensitive right now.

"Lemme see them beauties, bet they're so swollen, so delicious just for me."

You lift your shirt slowly, teasingly releasing your very much swollen and full breasts, Bucky is a very dirty man and you'd lie if you two didn't explore some fun kinks.

"Gorgeous, my pretty wife, looking so beautiful carrying my baby. All mine."

You're about to reach under your underwear, Buckys hand already wrapped around his cock.

"Daddy!!"

You straighten up, and pull your shirt down quickly, your 5 year old bursts through the kitchen door. You don't know how he knew you were even talking to Bucky but oh well. There goes mommy and daddy time.

"Good morning, baby boy. Is it just me, or every time I call, you get a bit bigger?" Theo squeals from excitement and then goes on a rant about something that happened in one of the shows he's watching.

While they talk you go and wake up Leo, your currently youngest kid.

You get him up and carry him in your arms to the kitchen, he leans on your shoulder still half asleep.

"Baby, gimme the phone for a second." Theo immediately gives you the phone and follows you to the kitchen island where you sat.

"There's my other baby. Still sleepy, mommy woke you up, huh? What are we gonna do about it?"

It was a perfectly reasonable time to wake up....

Your son picks his head up at his father's voice and smiles, reaching for the phone. You put Leo down on the carpet not far from you, so you can still see him and Theo, while you make breakfast.

"Mommy!!!" Theo yells and you look up from the fruit you're currently cutting.

"Honey you don't have to yell I'm right here." you put away the knife, when he comes closer, Theo recently took a liking to yelling and dangerous objects.

"Daddy wants to talk to you!" Theo yells and you cringe at the volume, you love him more than anything but how can such a small child be so loud.

"Doll, I gotta go, we got soundcheck in about twenty minutes, kiss the boys for me, okay? Love you."

"Love you more, and good luck! I know you'll be great! Oh, and don't you dare cut your hair before you come home. I'm going to divorce you."

Bucky chuckles and says love you again before hanging up.

"Theo what do you have there?"

"A KNIFE!"

"NO."

[THE END]

I think this might be my favorite thing I've written so far.....

likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #marvel fic #bucky imagine #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #bucky barnes x reader #marvel imagine #bucky smut #daddy bucky #rockstar!bucky #bucky x f!reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes oneshots

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roosterforme · 10 months

Text

Batting Practice Part 23 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley knows he won't get this feeling with anyone else. Birthday celebrations, sexy sleepovers, and taking your son to the park have become his routine. But when you share an idea with Bradley about the future, he shoots you down, and you start to wonder why.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst and swearing

Length: 3100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley sent you a text letting you know that he'd pick you and Everett up for the Padres game. He was excited to give Everett all of the birthday presents that were rolling around in the back of the Bronco every time he turned a corner. Two new bats, some baseballs, a glove, and a jersey that said "Grand Slam" on the back of it with Bradley's college number "22".

Now that summer break had begun, you promised Bradley he could start taking Everett out to the park to practice playing real baseball. This way he would have time to break in all of his gear before the fall season started in September.

When he pulled up behind your car, you were already waiting on the porch. "Where's Ev?" he called out as he walked around the front of the Bronco to meet you.

You smiled up at him as you hugged him around his waist. "He went to the zoo with Molly. They're going to pick up Bob and meet us there. And have I ever mentioned how sexy I find it when you ask about my son?"

Bradley kissed your cheek and murmured, "I'm just excited to give him his birthday presents. But if we're alone..." He let his lips drift down to the soft skin below your ear, sucking on you gently. You moaned softly as his big hands cupped the swell of your ass through your shorts.

"I do have neighbors, Coach," you whined, and he released your neck.

"Then let's go inside," he suggested, squeezing you a little tighter.

You bit your lip but shook your head. "We'll be late, and Ev will be annoyed, because he's been so excited about today."

Bradley kissed your nose. "You're right, Kitten. Gotta make sure he has the best birthday ever."

"I think he will," you replied when Bradley opened the passenger door for you.

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

You were having so much fun, it felt like it was your birthday, too. Molly bought seats along the third baseline, and it was the perfect night to be at the ballpark under the stadium lights. You were sharing a soft pretzel with Bradley, who had his arm draped casually around your shoulders, and Everett was on the other side of him.

Your son was wearing the new baseball jersey that Bradley had given to him in the parking lot. Everett hugged him about twenty times after he pulled it out of the gift bag and put it on. He was still so excited to have his own pretend call sign. And now Bradley was holding a napkin so Everett wouldn't drip nacho cheese on it.

"Aunt Molly," Ev said, chewing on a chip. "Have you ever visited the airplanes and got your own call sign?"

"Not yet," she replied, leaning across Bob to mess with Everett's hair. "But I'm going to try to visit Bob at work next week."

"You can get a call sign if you do," Everett said, shoving another chip in his mouth while you fed Bradley a bite of the pretzel.

"Bob already gave me one," she said with a smirk, and you watched Bob's serene expression turn to panic as he shook his head.

"What is it?" Everett asked.

With the most unbelievably innocent look, Molly said, "He calls me Howler," while Bob tried to cover her mouth with his hand.

"Mo!" Bob whispered, turning beet red.

Bradley choked on the bite of pretzel as you said, "Seriously, Molly?" But you couldn't help but laugh at your sister as she leaned in to kiss Bob's cheek as he slid down lower in his seat and tried to cover his face.

"Look!" Everett shouted as the birthday announcements started to scroll across the big screen. "It's our names!"

He and Bradley sat up a little straighter as the screen said Happy birthday Everett and Bradley! as the birthday song played.

"Did you do this?" Bradley asked you with a grin.

"Maybe," you told him, shoving more pretzel into his mouth. Everett was dancing around the seats with Molly as Bradley leaned in close to your ear.

"Thank you, Kitten. I haven't really celebrated my birthday in years. You make me feel special."

You adjusted his backwards hat and kissed his cheek. "You don't celebrate your birthday?"

He just shrugged. "Nobody to celebrate it with, really."

You hugged him around the neck as the inning started. "You can celebrate with me and Ev now," you told him. "He loves that your birthday is only a week after his. Just wait until you see the stupid gift we got you."

Bradley turned to look at you as the catcher for the Pirates hit a single. "You got me a birthday present?"

You just rolled your eyes and laughed. "It's nothing, really. Just-"

But you were silenced with his lips on yours and his hand at the back of your neck. "Thank you. I don't even know what it is, but it's perfect."

You wanted to take him home and give him the stupid pair of Phillies socks right now. You wanted him to sleep over. You wanted to ask him to move in with you.

In fact, you almost did but then you heard Bob say to Everett, "You excited to watch Bradley and I try out for the rec league?"

Bradley groaned and sank back into his seat. "Bob, that was supposed to be a surprise. We didn't even make the team yet."

"Sorry," Bob muttered, but you, Molly and Ev were looking at them with excitement.

"What position are you going to play?" Ev asked, climbing up onto Bradley's lap to see the game better.

Bradley sighed. "I'm trying out as a pitcher. Not my natural position, but I've always wanted to try it. Thought I might be good enough for a casual league."

"You're so good!" you gushed, thinking about him showing Everett different pitches in the park while you tried to catch for them. "Even the guy on the tour of the ballpark asked if you used to be a pitcher!"

Bradley chuckled, but Bob agreed with you. "You're going to make the team at any position you want, Rooster."

"So are we allowed to come watch tryouts?" Molly asked, raking her fingers through Bob's hair and giving him puppy eyes. He was immediately so lost to her, you didn't know how that poor man would function when your sister actually moved in with him in a few days.

"Yeah, Coach," you asked Bradley. "Can we come watch you?"

Bradley studied your face for a moment. "You can do anything you want, Kitten. If you want to come, I'd love that."

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

It was so late, and tomorrow was a work day. But you were sitting on the edge of your kitchen counter, and Bradley was fucking you so nice and slow, you wanted it to last all night.

He drove you and Everett home after the Padres lost to the Pirates; the booster seat seemed to be a permanent fixture in his backseat now. And even though it was a few days early, you and Ev let him open his birthday present. The striped Phillies socks and the baseball card Everett made of Bradley were on the counter next to you.

"I love you so much," he whispered, lips grazing your neck and chin as he worked you up. It was amazing that you could get him like this, groaning your name and squeezing your hips like he absolutely needed you. "Fuck, Kitten."

You pulled his lips up to yours to taste him as he got you so close. The perfectly paced thrust of his hips. The pressure of his thumb when he moved his hand to your clit. The way he tasted like the salt from the soft pretzel you shared. The brush of his mustache against your lip.

"Bradley!" You came so hard, it surprised you. The only thing holding you up was his hand firmly placed on your lower back as he fucked you through your orgasm. "Oh my god," you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck. "You're so good."

Then his thrusting became jerky and irregular, and you kissed along the prominent veins in his neck as he grunted. You knew he was close as you whispered encouragement, your lips meeting his ear.

"You can do it, Coach. Cum inside me."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he chanted, head tipped back as he filled you up. When his eyes met yours again, you were grinning at him. "Baby," he groaned, looking at where you and he were connected most intimately before he withdrew himself from inside you. He ran his fingers through the mess he made and rubbed you from your opening to your clit, making you gasp. "You're very good at spoiling me."

You laughed. "With kitchen sex?"

"Yeah," he whispered, running his nose along yours. "And the birthday presents. And letting me take Everett to the park this weekend. Good luck getting rid of me now."

You kissed him softly before you glanced at the time on the microwave. "Are you sleeping over?"

"Of course," he replied. "Ev asked me to drop him off at summer camp in the morning, remember?"

You smiled against his lips. "Take me upstairs, and I'll spoil you with more kisses and a backrub."

"I love you."

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

On Saturday morning, Bradley was at your house early, and Everett was already done eating breakfast and ready to go to the park. He picked up his gear bag and ran for the door, but Bradley laughed.

"Is it okay if I say hi to your mom first?"

"I guess," Everett said impatiently from next to the front door.

You were still in your pajamas, sipping a mug of coffee in the kitchen. Bradley smiled at the spot on the counter where he'd made you cum after the Padres game. "Morning," he whispered, kissing your cheek and stealing a sip of your coffee.

You scrunched your nose up just the way he liked and he kissed you there, too. "Go have fun without me while I clean my house," you told him. "That kid has been up for over an hour already, just waiting for you."

Bradley thought once again about how convenient things would be if he just lived here. "I'll bring him back for lunch."

"Sounds good," you muttered, and then Bradley was taking Everett out to the Bronco.

"Can we practice running the bases?" Everett asked as Bradley pulled out of your driveway. "And catching the ball?"

"We're going to practice everything, Kiddo. It's gonna take all summer."

Instead of being intimidated, Everett clapped his hands and cheered.

"Kid after my own heart," Bradley muttered, driving the short distance to the park. He unloaded all of his equipment and hauled it to the empty baseball diamond while Everett carried his own gear.

"Should we warm up like we did for tee ball?"

"Always a good idea," Bradley said, and they ran the bases a few times together. Then he threw some pitches to Everett, thoroughly impressed by how well he could hit the ball. Then he let Everett throw some pitches to him while he squatted down in the catcher's position.

"Damn," Bradley mumbled. He threw the ball straight every time, and even though he didn't have enough strength to get the ball to go the distance, Everett was really good at pitching. "Are you sure you're only seven?"

Everett laughed. "Yep! You were there for my birthday!"

Bradley really wanted to make the Navy rec team as a pitcher so Everett could see him in action. The idea of you and Ev watching him play baseball excited him so much. Plus there would be more ice cream outings and pizza nights if he and Bob both made the team. The five of you could hang out, and maybe Nat could come too.

After another hour of playing and practicing, Bradley pulled two bottles of Gatorade from his bag and called Everett over into the shade to take a break. They sat side by side in the grass and chugged their drinks. Bradley leaned back against the tree trunk while Everett finished his drink.

"Thanks for teaching me about stuff," Everett said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a streak of dirt on his face.

Bradley sat quietly for a moment before he said, "Thanks for letting me."

"Hey, did you ever ask my mom about moving into the extra bedroom?"

Everett's innocent gaze had Bradley silent once again. But he figured this was as good a time as any to ask your son for his opinion.

"Ev, remember when I asked you to keep a secret from your mom? When I wanted to know if she used to wear a wedding ring?"

"Yeah," Everett said, nodding up at Bradley.

"Well," Bradley began, suddenly unsure about what he should say. He ran his hands over his face and took off his sweaty cap. "I've been thinking about buying a ring for your mom."

"She'd like that," Everett told him. "She doesn't have any."

Bradley smiled and added, "If I get her a ring, I'm going to ask her if she wants to get married to me. If that's okay with you."

Everett's face lit up. "You should definitely do that! She would let you move in then! You could be there all the time!"

"Yeah, I think so, too," Bradley agreed. "We could spend more time together. But it's a secret. You can't say anything yet."

"I won't!" Everett promised, but now he looked even happier than he did earlier as Bradley took him back out in the sun to practice throwing the ball in the outfield.

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

You watched the drama unfold before you.

"I don't think the two of you need four couches," Bradley complained as he and Bob carried Molly's sleeper sofa into Bob's condo. "This thing is heavy as fuck."

"Language," you whispered, smacking his butt. He gave you a guilty look over his shoulder as Everett sat at the kitchen counter coloring.

"Sorry, Kitten," he grunted. "I mean, this thing is heavy as heck."

Bob was struggling at the other end of the couch. "Molly wants to keep all of her furniture," he said, trying to push it through the door.

"Let's just tell her it broke on the way here," Bradley said, following Bob's lead and setting it down for a break.

"Molly is right here," came Molly's annoyed voice from the hallway. "And Molly can see that it isn't broken."

"You know, there are times when I really don't see how the two of you are related," Bradley said, looking from you to your sister who was in a complete huff.

"We look the same," Molly said, rolling her eyes.

Bradley rolled his as well. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Let's just get this thing inside?" Bob called from out in the hallway.

"Fine," Bradley growled, and you watched them somehow figure out how to twist the couch around as they guided it through the doorway. And then all four couches were in the living room.

"Hmm," Molly hummed as she rubbed Bob's back. "I see what you mean about too many couches."

"I'm not taking it back down to the U-Haul," Bradley promised, sprawling out on the couch in question. "It's so comfortable. I love it. It needs to stay here forever."

"Can we eat lunch yet?" Everett called.

"Yep," Bradley agreed, jumping up. "I'll order pizza. And don't even think about moving this couch." He pointed at Molly, and then Bob, and then you. He kissed you before he sat down with Ev to color while he ordered food.

After some pizza and several more hours of carrying boxes inside, you were exhausted. Everett had fallen asleep on the sleeper sofa, out cold after a dinner of leftover pizza. Bradley was standing behind you with his arms around you and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Thanks for helping today," Bob said, and you patted his cheek, making him blush.

"It was our pleasure," you told him.

"Speak for yourself," Bradley grumbled, but you could tell he was smiling.

Bob glanced to where Molly was unpacking some of her things in the kitchen. "I'm already happier than I ever thought possible."

You sighed, so pleased your sister was dating such a sweet man. "If she becomes unruly, let me know. I'll give you all the insider tips."

Bob smiled and nodded as Bradley scooped Everett gently up from the couch. "See you at work," he told Bob, heading for the door.

You kissed your sister goodbye, and then you were out in the hallway waiting for the elevator with Bradley and a still snoozing Ev. "I really hate that couch," Bradley mumbled when the elevator arrived.

"You know they're going to ask you to remove at least one of those couches, right?" you asked quietly, trying not to laugh as Bradley muttered some curse words.

"Yeah," he agreed. "I know."

You opened the door of Bob and Molly's building and then watched Bradley expertly maneuver Everett into his booster seat without waking him up. Then he opened his door and helped you in, smiling as you scooted across the bench seat, and climbed in after you.

As Bradley started the engine and leaned over to kiss your cheek, you decided to just say what was on your mind.

"You know, maybe the two of them are onto something."

"What's that, Kitten?" he asked, checking his side mirror and pulling out onto the street.

"Well, they moved in together," you said nervously. "We could do that, too. If you want. I've got room."

Bradley was completely silent while he drove. You eyed his profile cautiously, but he was frowning. He rolled to a stop at a red light, still quiet, and you swallowed hard, wishing you hadn't said anything at all.

"Forget about it," you whispered with a little laugh that sounded pitiful to your own ears. "It was stupid idea."

"I don't want to forget about it," he said, tapping the gas pedal when the light changed. "But I think we should push it to the back burner for now, Kitten. Maybe talk about it again soon? But not yet."

"Okay," you whispered, turning to look out the window, trying to hide the tears that stung your eyes. But your mind drifted back to Danny, and you realized you couldn't seem to escape the unsettled feeling that was taking over your life now.

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

I can't wait for the rec league tryouts and a ring! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 24

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

Text

Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

--------

A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

--------

Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

221 notes · View notes

guanana · 2 years

Text

step on a crack, dr. lee’s gonna break your back! ♡ ljn x reader (18+)

genre: smut, jeno x reader, f x m, crack

word count: 12.2k+

summary: after years of sitting hunched over at an office desk and squinting your eyes at an overly saturated computer screen, your back finally gives out on you and decides it needs a break.

good thing your friendly neighborhood chiropractor dr. lee is here to save the day! small issue though— he’s really fucking hot and he’s got a way with his hands.

smut warnings: dom!jeno, mild dubcon (please do not read if you are uncomfortable with this), penetrative sex, manhandling, choking, strength kink, oral (f receiving), minimal rimming (f receiving), fingering, squirting, subspace, degradation, mild spanking, body worship

other warnings: will more than likely contain anatomical and medical inaccuracies (please spare me)

masterlist | next

────── 〔✿〕──────

When you were younger, all of the adults told you that your twenties would be some of the best years of your life. Relaying tales of being able to stay out past the curfew your parents had set for you. To indulge in certain luxuries that weren’t accessible to you when you were younger– the finest of alcohol, gambling, and more. Old enough for the freedom that comes with adulthood, yet young enough for the rose colored glasses that’ll register one of your fondest memories.

Not you though.

Scrolling through your social media, you grumble to yourself bitterly as you deliberately swipe past a post of your old colleagues from school having a night out at the bar. Lined up along the stools and leaned up against one another, bright smiles and puckered lips showing off just how much fun they’re having. Envious of their fitted dresses and the heels that you’ve been admiring from far away at your local outlet.

You really couldn’t blame them, though. They’ve invited you out many times. To no avail, they’re always met with rejection. The same exact excuses every single time:

“I’ve got OT today.”

“I have a project due tonight, I need to get this done.”

“I’m too tired. You guys go on without me.”

It’s not that you wanted to be such a stick in the mud. You just happened to work at an office that sucks the soul out of your being. It’s no wonder that the invites have become extremely scarce throughout the years, but that didn’t stop you from being petty and refusing to leave a like on their posts.

“Like hell I will,” You spit back.

Haechan pouts at that, his eyebrows furrowing childishly at your attitude. “What’s got you so moody today? I just wanna spend some time with my favorite coworker.” Planting his hands on top of each of your shoulders, soothing not so gentle circles into the flesh. Digging his forefingers into the crook of your collarbone, inflicting minor pain. He whistles at how stiff the knots are. “Jesus, you’re tight.”

“Could you stop being annoying for like, two minutes please?” You retreat from his touches with a feigned scoff, refusing to let him in on the fact that the makeshift massage hurt like actual hell. Shooting shocks and aches all along from the bottom of your spine to the top, wondering why you’re strained. You’d be a fool to think you could evade Haechan’s observant gaze however. As he jabs a pointer finger right to the center of your back, you shoot up from your hunched over position with an obnoxious squeal. “Ah– fucking hell, Haechan!”

Maneuvering your rolling chair to give him your deadliest glare, you’re confused when you’re met with a concerned face. “Do you have back problems?”

The sudden question startles you. Craning your neck and giving it an experimental crack. You realize you've never put much thought into it. Writing it off as a minor inconvenience at most. Too caught up with the rest of life to be concerned with your physical health, you pushed any aches to the back burner of your mind. “I don’t think so?”

Another jab comes your way, this time directly at your trapezius. Squealing like a mouse in pain once again, you earn a few curious stares from your peers. “Ow!” You smack his wrist away. “What the hell is wrong with you!?"

“It’s because you’re always slumped over at that damn desk!” Haechan argues with a tone that’s similar to a naggy mother’s. “You need to get checked out before it gets any worse.”

“I’m fine,” You swivel your chair away from him and back towards your desk, wanting to end this interaction as soon as possible. “Seriously, you don’t have to worry about me.”

Ever the overly concerned friend, Haechan goes against your wishes. Reaching into his pocket for his wallet before filing through the several business cards he has stowed away. You hear an innocuous ‘aha!’ from behind you, turning back curiously only to be met with a small cut of paper. Wiggling his eyebrows at you mischievously, urging you to take it from him.

Taking the card with caution, you barely skim through the simplistic font before Haechan speaks up again. “This guy is top notch. He’ll put you back into shape like it’s nothing.”

“Dr. Lee Jeno, D.C..” You mumble to yourself. Looking up at Haechan’s cat-like expression with your own unamused stare, fingers already up in air quotes. “Step on a crack, Dr. Lee will put you back on track?” You mock with disdain before grimacing at Haechan. “You can’t be serious right now.”

“I’m definitely being one hundred percent serious,” Haechan replies. “Come on, give it a try! His rates are great before insurance. Who knows how much cheaper it would be with our health plan.”

You’ve watched plenty of chiropractor videos on Youtube before. Fond of the ASMR and the funny reactions. They've kept you entertained more times than you’d like to admit. That didn't stop your irrational fear of having your neck snapped so far back you wake up to find yourself in front of the pearly gates though.

“Don’t you know chiropractors are quack doctors? I mean— look at this Patrick Bateman ass business card. This guy could kill me!” You counter pathetically.

“Hey, don’t speak on my boy like that,” He points an accusing finger at you. “I’ve gone to him plenty of times, and I’m still alive!”

“That’s because you’re a freak of nature,” You sigh at his persistence, too many factors to consider before even thinking about calling this man. “I don’t know…” But when you stretch out and a crack evades both your ears, that same sharp tinge traveling up your back, you’ve got no choice but to give in. Deflating under Haechan’s narrowed eyes, you admit defeat. “Okay, fine.”

“‘Atta girl,” He cheers. “I swear that you won’t regret it. Dr. Lee’s great at what he does.” “I hope you’re right, because if he snaps my neck and I die— I’m haunting your punk ass.”

“Being haunted by you doesn’t sound that bad honestly. But when have I ever lied to you?” He winks. “Oh, and make sure to tell him that I referred you.”

Deciding that he’s bothered you enough, Haechan bids you goodbye with a wave. When you’re left by yourself you examine the card much more thoroughly. Despite the extremely corny slogan, you admire the minimalistic design. Flipping it to the other side to get more of his information, taking a mental note to search up his reviews later.

——

Dr. Lee seems to check all of the marks. Almost five stars on Google Reviews, most of them being very thorough and positive. A variety of patients from the eldery, to athletes, and even to those who have suffered severe injuries. Many claim that he’s got the ‘magic touch’ and that he treats his patients with the utmost care. That and he has the credentials to boot, graduating at the top of his class.

Swiping through the photos to get a feel for what his office looks like, it seems he occupies a space at a local complex. It’s neat and tidy, a clear degree and certification plated right there for all to see. Seems like he doesn’t have any photos of himself however, his profile picture being the default silhouette.

Admittedly you find yourself pacing back and forth, your phone resting on top of your coffee table. You’d like to blame it on mild phone anxiety, but you’ve got nothing to blame but your skepticism. Mentally battling with yourself to just give Dr. Lee a call and set the damn appointment.

Well, if he’s got Haechan’s approval (you’re not sure how valid that is), you guess it wouldn’t hurt to try. You seldom ever ‘treated yourself,’ so why not throw a couple of bucks on something that’ll actually do you some good?

Bracing yourself, you swipe your phone off of the table dramatically before dialing the number displayed on the card. Slapping the device onto your ear while the rings reverberate around your virtually silent room. Swaying nervously as two rings, three, then four pass without an answer. Wondering if you’re in over your head and should quit while you're still ahead, looking back at the screen and hovering your thumb over the hang up button.

Until somebody eventually picks up. A voice that is gentle yet booming with bass, delicate yet boyish in the same manner. “Hello? You’ve reached Neo Therapy Practitioners, this is Jisung speaking!”

Fumbling your phone like a hot potato, you tuck your phone in the nook of your shoulder. Grabbing a pen and notepad before plopping back down onto your couch. “Yeah, hi, yes!” You splutter. “I was wondering if I could set up an appointment with Dr. Lee?”

“Oh, for adjustment? Sure!” You hear some rustling before the man on the line continues. “Let me just get some of your info before I transfer you over to him. He’ll go into more depth with you than me.”

After providing Jisung with the necessary information, he sends you to Dr. Lee’s extension. An annoying jingle that brings you some peace. Still just a bit wary of setting up your meeting with Dr. Lee, your concerns only growing when the song comes to an abrupt stop.

Now, you may not have a face to pair with whoever is on the other side of the line, but nothing could have prepared you for the intense timbre that's on the other line.

"Hello?” The deep and sultry voice greets you, and when you take a few too seconds too long to return it, he tries again. “This is Dr. Lee. Are you there?”

Straightening your back out like you’re already in the room with him, it takes a lot of energy to double down without embarrassing yourself. “Yes! I’m here.”

A chuckle is offered in response, and you find yourself biting your index finger at how much of a baritone his voice has. Unlike Jisung who had an innocent tinge to his tone, Dr. Lee’s voice made it clear that he was a man of experience. A bravado that couldn't be missed even without physically seeing him.

“Glad to hear it.” You practically hear the smile in his voice. “So, Jisung told me you were looking to be adjusted?” When you hum in response, there’s a pause before he continues. “Sounds good. Typically with your first appointment it’ll consist of a consultation followed by your first adjustment. Does that sound okay?”

“Mhm, that's fine.”

“Perfect.” He beams, going over some more basic information that you jot down on your notepad. “Would you be free to come in tomorrow at let’s say… nine a.m? I actually had a cancellation and it gives us more than enough time before my next patient.”

When you check your wall calendar to confirm you have nothing going on in the morning, you let him know that you’re good to go. Everything goes swimmingly from there.

Dr. Lee instructs you to wear a casual set of clothes, to have your insurance and identification ready, and to just relax.

“I’ll print out a brief page of everything we discussed today, and I’ll hand over the rest of the information to Jisung to input into our system.” Dr. Lee finalizes. “I look forward to meeting you tomorrow. I'll see you then?”

“Absolutely,” You reply. “Bright and early. I’ll see you, Dr. Lee.”

With a click, the call ends. Stretching out and hearing the pops of your spine sing like a choir, you're thankful that such a nuisance will be put to a stop soon. You feel much more at ease than before you had called, and you hope that the same holds true for when you see him tomorrow.

——

Turns out that it didn’t hold true. Not one fucking bit. Maybe you can still make a run for it, the main lobby merely a hallway from his office.

It had gone easily enough. Meeting his secretary Jisung at the front desk with an enthusiastic greeting. He was young, probably using this as a part time job, most definitely not taking it seriously since you caught him playing Minecraft on a separate gaming laptop. Slamming the screen shut in a fit of embarrassment, he apologizes hurriedly before you reassure him that he’s okay, laughing at his silliness.

Handing him the required materials, he sends you to the back with a small smile. “First door to the left. He should be ready for you.”

With a nod you follow his instructions. That same confidence that you had carried from the night before crumbling to dust the moment you turned down the handle of the door. Swallowing a thick wad that’s formed at the center of your throat when you take in the sight of the man who’s setting up his equipment.

Haechan be damned, this guy was going to kill you. Not in the way you had first feared though.

Dr. Lee was a sight sent straight from the Greek Gods themselves. Aphrodite taking special care and concocting whatever the fuck he was made out of with a few shots too many of favoritism. Muscular legs that are restrained by black jeans that travel up a lean waist that part into obnoxiously broad shoulders. Proportions unbelievably perfect with an even more beautiful face to boot, that sharp jawline and beauty mark that is saved for those who are the cream of the crop.

If you were attracted to merely a voice via a phone call, the real thing has you absolutely folding.

Unfortunately for you, you were too slow in backing out. Dr. Lee had finished adjusting the height of the bed at the center of the room, presumably sensing your presence before twisting his entire body to find you at the door frame. Upon meeting you for the first time, his face twists into one of the most welcoming expressions ever.

Oh yeah, you were doomed.

Taking large strides towards you, he extends his hand for you to take. “Nice to be able to meet you in person.” He says, eyes forming into sweet crescents upon your accepting shake. His large hand wraps around yours completely. Gaze trailing from where you’re connected to his pronounced forearms. Sleeves rolled up high enough to ogle the veins that lace around.

Said button up did him no favors either. Accentuating each taut muscle, his biceps begging to be freed from its constraints. The button just below his collarbone fighting for dear life lest he makes the wrong move and it pops off. Calling your name, he brings you out of your daze. Shaking your head to bring you back to reality, scolding yourself inwardly for being such a prude. “N-nice to meet you too, Dr. Lee.”

He blows a few black strands away from his forehead, snorting at your apprehensiveness. “Please save the formalities. Just call me Jeno.” He squeezes your hand in reassurance. Separating from you in exchange for extending his arm towards the bed with black leather cushions that are framed by fine bamboo. “Make yourself comfy, yeah?”

Following you closely before dragging a rolling chair to sit across from you in, he sits casually with his legs spread out and his chest leaning against the back support of the chair. Reaching for his clipboard and whistling a tune as he skims through some documents. “Alright, it seems like we have some minor back pain?” He licks at his thumb to make flipping through the pages easier. Pushing the glasses that slip down his nose, attentive to every detail. “Care to tell me about it?”

“WelI, I think I started to feel some aches as early as three years ago when I started at my office, but it was a nuisance at worst,” You explain. Jeno validates you by nodding along, jotting out your words into short notes on his clipboard. Holding his chin between his thumb and forefinger, he urges you to continue. “But it's gotten worse recently. It's more of a shooting pain now.”

“I see.” He affirms, tapping the pen against his bottom lip. “A lot of my patients that are in the office tend to be victims of misalignment, I’m sure your case is no different.”

“I hope so,” You stifle a nervous laugh, halfheartedly relaying your worst fears in a joking manner. “Would hate to find out I have scoliosis this late into life and then have to get surgery for it.”

“Oh, please,” Jeno snorts at you with a feigned offense, tossing the clipboard back to his desk. “I notice your posture is a bit off, but it’s nowhere near so bad that it would require surgery. Plus–,” He cuts himself off when he rises from his office chair, circling behind you to plant his hands on your shoulders. The sudden closeness has your breath hitching, tensing up even further when he parts your hair to get a better look at the back of your neck. Feeling rather than seeing that his chest is probably no more than a few centimeters away from your back. A ghost of a breath against your ear, realizing that he’s much closer than you thought. “That’s what I’m here for. I’ll put you right back into shape.”

“Y-yeah…” You have to remind yourself that he is a certified professional. For that reason, you conclude that he is most definitely just being friendly– at least you try to tell yourself as you feel heat travel up your neck beneath his thumbs that trace over the top of your back. Wanting to slap yourself for getting nervous over him doing his job.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” Those same thumbs trail down your back, the fitted workout shirt you decided to wear today making it easier for Jeno to get a proper visual of your spine, humming in fascination when he digs into the flesh. A slight jolt causing you to wince under his hold, squeaking feebly at the discomfort. You hope you’re hallucinating when you hear a breathy chuckle leave his throat. “Sorry, did that hurt?” He muses.

“No–! Okay, maybe a little,” You stutter out. “It was just a bit of a shock.”

A noise that’s akin to a lion on the prowl stirs in his chest, making his way back up to the vertebrae that’s on that rests right below your neck. Digging into the flesh once again, this time earning a hiss from you. Biting your lip when the same pain that you had experienced from Haechan resurfaces. “Looks like you do have some misalignment. Does this hurt?” He asks before exerting more force into the spot.

“Fuck–,” You curse, covering your mouth in embarrassment at your lack of professionalism. “Sorry, yeah. That hurt a lot.”

You’re starting to think that this alleged ‘doctor’ is having a little bit too much fun inflicting pain on you. Under the guise that he’s just examining what issues you have, you grow more skeptical with each chuckle. Just when you’re about to retreat from his overbearing touches, he retreats first. “I think I’ve got a pretty good idea on what you’ve got going on.”

“You think?” You deadpan, not sure if you’re finding relief in your suspicions dominating your obvious attraction.

“Well, I know, rather.” He shrugs before walking back over to his desk, pulling out a model of a spine. Traveling back to you to point at one of the uppermost vertebrae. “Your thoracic is misaligned towards the top, specifically your T1– which is responsible for lots of important things like your shoulders, arms, the like.”

“So what does all of that mean?”

“Luckily, it’s not bad at all. I think a few sessions would be just fine,” He answers, discarding the spine model. “I’ll give you a sheet with a bunch of stretches that’ll prevent further injury. ‘Till then,'' That same smile encapsulates his features, tilting his head playfully. “Ready for your first adjustment?”

He raises his eyebrows when you give him a gobsmacked face, as if you haven’t already signed a waiver and a bunch of other non-disclosure agreements that specify that you are in fact going to be realigned.

“Oh, we’re doing that now now.”

“Yeah, now now.” He mocks you halfheartedly. Hands now coming to your front and pushing you down gently, swallowing when you get the best look of his face that you’ve gotten in the short time you’ve been in this office. “Lay back for me, okay?” He instructs softly, leaving you to grab his chair once again.

You do as he says, coming down with control only to realize you’ve fallen into his hands rather than onto the cushion. A horrible realization dawns when you recall the Youtube video that you had watched before going to sleep. Oh shit, he was going to crack your neck.

“Relax for me, just let your head fall back. Don’t tense." He praises you when you follow with no objections. Taking your trust with gratitude, he coos at you when your eyelids flutter shut. “That’s it…”

“Are you gonna do the thing?” You open one eye curiously.

“What, the thing where I readjust your neck?” Noticing that your expression is scrunched in fear, he realizes that you’re still a bit on edge. He knows that earning his patients’ full trust is all part of the job. It came easy to some, but harder for others. Good thing he was a patient man. “I understand if you’re scared, but just know that I haven’t killed anyone.”

“Oh, that totally makes me feel better–”

“Yet.”

“Just how did you score such high reviews on the Internet?” You chide him. “My life is literally in your hands right now.”

“I think those reviews were properly earned because of my dazzling charisma. Is that not enough to put you at ease?” He soothes light circles into the back of your neck, earning a purr of satisfaction from you.

“You mean your pretty privilege?” You drawl, immediately regretting not being able to bite back your sharp tongue.

"So you think I'm pretty?" He questions.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, you amp up the theatrics by clamping your mouth shut. Motioning a metaphoric zipper from one end to the other and breaking off the tab.

Jeno decides he’s poked enough fun at you despite wanting to provoke more funny reactions. “Alright, now that you’re relaxed– I just want you to focus on your breathing.” He watches you inhale and exhale, chest pumping up and down with every breath. Gnawing at his cheek when he realizes that your shirt is just a bit low cut, your cleavage visible from where he’s sat behind you. “Mhm, good girl.”

The pet name quickly demolishes any relaxation you’ve achieved in the span of two seconds, but before you can properly address it, Jeno twists your neck. Squawking out a ‘oh my god!’ when a pronounced crack invades the room. Eyes practically bulging out of their sockets when Jeno brings you back to place, patting your cheek and letting out an exuberant laugh.

“You did it!” He claps for you.

“Holy fucking shit,” You gasp, unable to care about coming off as presentable to him. Sitting up quickly to wrap your hands around yourself. Unable to describe the sensation that just occurred, something in between satisfaction and utter shock. “I’m alive!”

“You are,” He says, bottom lip tucked between his teeth when you rejoice. His patients showing instant results and giving positive reactions would always be his favorite part of the job. “How do you feel?”

You take a few seconds to think, shaking your body a little and craning your neck side to side. “I feel a little lighter? There was a second where my head was just.. blank. Like there was nothing at all. I think I liked it.”

When his lips quirk up into a smirk, you fold into yourself bashfully. Wondering if you’re coming off too casual with someone you had just met. Only now remembering that you had a very nice set of arms and hands over what you’d consider an intimate part of the body. Aside from Haechan who you couldn’t really chase away (no matter how many times you’ve cursed at him), you’ve never been too fond of physical touch. But when you catch the veins that have become even more prominent after exuding his efforts on you, you can’t help the fantasies that plague your mind.

Jeno was capable of twisting your neck like it was nothing. You wonder how easily he could lift you. Or how long he could last with you in his arms. Or how long he–

“Ready for the other side?” He pipes in.

Maybe you shouldn’t lust over your chiropractor when you’re in the same room as him.

Falling back into him once again, he waits for your body to go slack. Counting off when you’ve reached a state of peace, he reiterates the action but in the opposite direction. That same rush breaking through your toughest nerves. Sighing out in relief, unconsciously arching your back when a tingle travels down your spine. Completely unaware of the way Jeno ogles the outline of your body in such fitted clothing.

“Still doing okay?” He hums, unconsciously trailing a hand through your hair. You ease into his touch with a sappy smile. The blissful pleasure similar to the buzz that comes with a good wine, your body is heavy but your mind is light.

“Doing just fine, Doctor…” You whisper out, nuzzling your cheek into his palm. A stark contrast from the top half to the latter of his palm, such a soft touch despite the surface being riddled with calluses. He felt just like how he looks– a bit rugged but just as gentle. Lee Jeno was an oxymoron personified, and you fear for your well being as the rest of this session goes.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me by my name?” He reprimands you, a bit of a growl laced in his words.

“Right,” You breathe out, painfully perceptive to his thumb that grazes against your bottom lip. Catching his hand with your own, lacing your fingers around the crook of his. “It felt amazing, Jeno.”

Jeno has had plenty of patients stretching near and far– many trying to pull moves on him. That isn’t to say he hasn’t found a few attractive people in his time in the office. But he knows better to engage in any sort of scandals that could bring any bad light to his reputation as a well renowned chiropractor. It was also natural for his patients to become a little lost in their heads after living with that pain for so long.

But when you don such a lost and dazed expression, Jeno realizes he might be in just a little bit of trouble.

Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on like normal. That proves to be difficult when he has to put you in quite a few compromising positions. Having to hug your body close when he lifts you up, plenty of cracks to show just how long you’ve deprived yourself of such basic luxuries. Using his strength to realign your spine in increments while you lay on your stomach.

He’s not a stranger to the grunts and groans of relief from the rest of his patients. Yet with each and every adjustment came a new sound. A stuttered gasp, an elongated groan, a screech in almost painful bliss– he wonders if you like being hurt. And when he has you laid on your side with his hand on the small of your back, an almost pornographic moan has him reeling in delight. Almost wanting to keep you for longer than he originally planned– to shut the blinds and lock the door, trying to remember if he still has that ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign that he has tucked away in his desk somewhere.

But again, he knows better. When he finishes off with popping your shoulders into place, he cranks his own neck. Taking extra care of you, treating you with the same sincerity as a flower in a field. He hadn’t realized that your time is minutes from cutting into his next patient. Sighing defeatedly, he has to cut it now.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” He pinches your nose when you refuse to wake up. Much too lost in your own wonderland, the irrational fear of a chiropractor snapping your neck too far dissipates into thin air. Every part of your body feels as light as a feather. Jeno grabs your forearm, the lack of resistance resembling that of a limp noodle, causing him to snort at your stubbornness to get out of his office. He thinks it wouldn’t be so bad if you were to stay a little longer.

“C’mon, wake up!” He laughs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders to lift you onto your feet. Lifting you with little to no effort, like you weigh nothing. Strong arms surround you firmly, yet you feel a sense of security. “Did I do that well?”

“Oh god,” You loll your head onto your shoulder, giving yourself a good stretch. It amazes you when you reach out high and not a single ache or crack follows. “I haven’t been this relaxed in years.”

Jeno’s sure he could make you feel even better if you’d let him, but it’s better to leave it at what you pay him for. “Glad to hear it,” His hands instinctively seek purchase on your shoulders, comfort being a second nature. Urging you towards the door, he doesn’t miss the pout that you don when you wobble like you’ve just learned to walk. “When will I see you again?”

You still have that half lidded gaze from being snapped like a twig, but it seems that you’ve come back to earth. “When’s your next available appointment?” You lean against the doorframe.

He checks his calendar on his phone for any openings, he relays the options for you. “I’ve got an opening for Saturday next week, same time. Would you be interested?”

“Sign me up.” You answer. “I’ll see you then, Doc–” He’s grimacing at you before you can get the rest of the word in. Still not used to the informality, you huff before turning to take your leave. “I’ll see you next week, Jeno.”

“That’s what I like to hear. It was nice having you today.” He grins, waving you off before closing the door. When he hears Jisung bidding you goodbye and the chime of the bell to confirm that you’ve left the vicinity, he immediately rips his glasses off. Brushing his hair out of his face and rubbing at the prominent bridge of his nose.

He saw the way that you were ogling him when you had first entered. It was nothing new– the ladies young and old alike couldn’t get enough of him, and he definitely wasn’t oblivious to any of their advances. But when he thinks about all the ways he could bend and twist you over the furniture of his office, how he would be the reason you couldn’t walk, he comes to the realization– you were going to be a problem.

——

Saturday takes much too long to roll around, and fortunately for you Jeno contacts you no more than three days later for a cancellation. Your second appointment passed with flying colors. Jeno praises you for following the stretching regimen that he had provided you with, noting that your stiffness has already depleted exponentially. Chiropractic adjustment quickly becomes one of your favorite appointments of the week. Coming in with a smile on your face and stepping out and like a million bucks.

The same can’t be said for Jeno, however. While he’s sure that the attraction is mutual, you seem to be sending him mixed signals. Unsure if those moans are practiced or if he really evoked them from using his pure strength. Hell, he’s found himself hitting the gym even more than he already does, getting giddy when you take note of his progress.

“Have you been working out?”

“A little.” He smirks. “Why? Has it been paying off?”

“A little.” You mimic him with a subtle lick of your lips, giving his bicep an experimental squeeze. Jaw dropping at how hard the surface is. The muscle jumps when he unconsciously flexes beneath your touch.

That’s not all though. He’s noticed that you’ve gotten a bit too comfy in the time that you two have spent together. Your first visit you donned a plain workout tee paired with a baggy pair of sweats. But throughout your visits, t-shirts turn into tank tops, sweats turn into leggings, leggings turn into biker shorts– tops seeming to expose more and more of your stomach until he can see the lower curvature of your breasts.

“Oh, I forgot to mention it,” You say when Jeno pulls at your ankles, a pronounced ‘pop!’ successfully sounding around him. “Haechan was the one who recommended you to me.”

“Lee Haechan?” Jeno raises an eyebrow, the visual of the coconut headed brunette plagues his mind. Grimacing at how overbearing he can be. “Yeah, I know him.”

“I’m really glad he did,” You hum, that same damned expression that has been haunting him every night for the past few weeks. “You make me feel so good, Jeno.”

“You really need to be careful with what you say,” He tuts, appalled that such euphemisms fail to register. His voice lowering down to a low whisper, muttering under his breath. “I’m a guy, you know.”

“What was that?”

“Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Lay on your tummy for me, now.”

Maybe it was the confidence that came with getting better posture. Maybe it was the fact that you were becoming more flexible after he suggested you should join the free yoga classes that your community has online. Whatever it was, it was becoming even more of a problem for not just him, but those around you too.

——

“You are an addict.” Haechan glares at you. “You’re a crack addict. You’re addicted to crack!”

Embarrassment floods your being when your coworkers take a peek at the commotion. Haechan’s choice of words certainly does not do your image any favors. You cover your face with a manila folder from your desk, not wanting to give any attention to your nuisance of a coworker. He wasn’t having it though, ripping away the barricade and getting close in on your face.

“Wanna know how I know you’re a crack addict?” He corners you.

Diverting your attention from your project, you swivel your chair in his direction to entertain his antics. “Oh, pray tell Haechan. Tell me how you know that I’m addicted to getting adjustments.”

Pulling out his phone, he presents you with a photo of a package that was addressed to his home. Raising an unamused eyebrow, your question remains unanswered. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s a free roomba that I won from a raffle,” Haechan starts. “Dr. Lee’s quarter-yearly raffle to be exact.”

“...Okay?”

“Every appointment that someone I’ve referred to him has, is another entry to the raffle. And in the three weeks–” He holds out three fingers. “That you’ve been seeing Dr. Lee, guess how many entries I’ve scored.”

You’re not exactly fond of the direction this is going in, growing a bit nervous as you’ve lost track of the many times you’ve swiped your card along the pin pad that stays with Jisung at the front desk. “How many…?”

Bringing a hand to his mouth, he obnoxiously coughs to clear his throat. “Sweetheart, you have seen him ten times in three weeks.”

“You’re lying.” You gasp.

Tapping on an email from Jeno himself, he flips the screen towards your face. The evidence in all its glory specifying how many entries he’s been given. “Read it and weep, babe.” He squats down to your height in your chair, whispering into your ear mischievously. “So, tell me the truth– is he actually realigning your spine? Or is he blowing your back out instead?”

“Haechan!” You slap at him harshly, growing flustered at such an accusation. You think you’ve done a good job at being discreet about your desire for Jeno, able to keep yourself at bay every night when your vibrator clears your dirty mind for you. “We have not fucked.” You cross your arms to emphasize your point.

“Yet.” That childish grin grows. “Keep visiting him like that and it’s bound to end up like some cheesy porno.”

“We aren’t gonna fuck,” You shut him down. “That’s so unprofessional.” “Suit yourself.” Haechan shrugs, turning on his feet to leave you alone once again. Tending to give you a mental whiplash and leaving you to clean up the mess yourself. “I’m just saying– it’s actually been kind of hard to get an appointment with him lately. Much less multiple times in the same week.”

“It’s probably just because I’m a new patient and require more adjustment.” “Maybe so, but I’d look into that if I were you,” He bids you off with a wink. Greeting another female coworker who passed him by, returning his gesture with a wistful smile. The interaction causes your eye to twitch. You’re sorry for that poor girl– she has no idea how insufferable that man is. Turning back to you with a smug expression to gloat. “Thanks for the free roomba by the way!”

His last words have you pondering, unfortunately. Jeno does spend a great deal of time on you, and his rates are definitely generous enough for multiple visits to be feasible. Maybe there is something there.

But it’s been a really long time since you’ve been physically intimate with anyone. You’re a bit jaded in your judgment, often pinning most people’s flirting and undivided attention as mere kindness. The prospect of being able to have Jeno actually want you as much as you think about him stirs something in your stomach, annoyingly girlish butterflies fluttering around like you’re in high school again.

Who knows? It wouldn’t hurt to try and push the limits a little. What’s the worst that could happen?

——

You might’ve jumped the gun. Wearing the smallest and tightest skirt in your closet with no safety shorts underneath probably wasn’t the smartest decision. Regretting your decision and clamping your legs shut, when Jeno gives you a once over upon your arrival.

His expression was unreadable when you met at his desk. Jaw clenched unbearably tight, a hypocritical action as he’s advised you to refrain doing that on multiple occasions. Claiming that it was a main factor in the migraines you’ve vented to him about.

“So,” He speaks first, his voice gruff when he tries to cut the tension. “It seems like your thoracic alignment has improved greatly in the past few weeks.” You nod, grateful despite the awkwardness of the situation. “I feel much better thanks to you."

“I’m glad that I was able to help,” He replies, the sentiment still there despite coming off aloof. Was there a vein popping out of his neck? “Anyways, I was thinking after this appointment, we could limit visits to maybe… Once a month?”

Haechan might’ve been onto something when he said that you were addicted. Itching to get cracked almost every other day of the week, thriving off of that high that’s akin to walking on clouds. To go cold turkey and only experience such a luxury once a week almost feels devastating.

You’re hesitant, but you have enough pride to not be so desperate as to object. “We can do that, I guess.” You deflate into the leather chair, feeling oddly petulant for your age.

Hopefully Jeno doesn’t catch your dismissiveness. You assume so at least when he carries on like normal. Gesturing towards the drop bed as per usual, you follow him helplessly like a pied piper. Pulling your skirt down when it hikes up with every other step, you’re inwardly chastising yourself for being so dumb. Of course this would make him feel awkward. You were basically setting yourself up for the easiest wardrobe malfunction ever– the worst part being that it was completely deliberate.

“You know the drill,” He says when you stand idle. Hesitant to do so, knowing that he’s going to get an all access view to the racy panties you wore today. When you take too long you feel anxious at how he hollows his cheeks, his tongue poking out impatiently at your lack of initiative. “What’s wrong?”

People were usually one or the other: book-smart or street-smart. Not Lee Jeno, though. If the doctorate that hung loud and proud behind him wasn’t proof enough, he was also much too intuitive and introspective for his good. The emotional intelligence that most people lack was evident with every conversation the two of you shared during your visits. You knew better than to think he’d be oblivious to such a drastic change in your wardrobe, every outfit prior paling in comparison to the stunt you’ve pulled today.

And if the way he’s vented about the other patients he’s had that have made a pass at him was any indication that he hated unsolicited advances– you’ve basically set yourself for not just rejection, but a strained relationship with someone whose company you’ve grown to enjoy too.

On second thought, limiting visits to once a month would be ideal. Hopefully he’ll forget about it and the two of you can act like nothing happened.

You can tell his patience wears thinner when he crosses his arms across his chest, hip leaned against the top of the bed. Chelsea boot clad foot tapping against the floor in a steady rhythm. Left with no other choice than to suck it up and embarrass yourself, you lift each leg over the bed as slowly as possible, hands clutching at the hem as you lay back with your stomach taut with fear.

At this point, it’s like clockwork. Your head falling back into those large palms without fail. Jeno is always tucking the stray hairs that obstruct your features behind your ear, glad that you always kept your eyes closed whenever he’s this near.

“You’re tense.” Jeno mumbles.

You apologize and try to relax as much as possible. Relinquishing the tension in your neck so you’re weightless against him. Such pathetic attempts are futile however, Jeno tsk’ing at your lack of comprehension to his instructions.

“Your shoulders,” His fingers slide down the expanse of your neck to the span of the offending body part. The smooth glide eliciting a ticklish tingle that now has every inch of you clenching, especially between your thighs. Snatching your shaky hands that are gripping onto your skirt for dear life with each of his own, forcing them to your side. “Let go.”

The strength that he exuded against your resistance was terrifying. Your heart pounding against your chest erratically, fighting your hardest to shoo away the thought of him taking you right where you lay.

Now that there’s nothing that stands in Jeno’s way, he carries on. Fighting a battle of his own, anything he looks at causing a problem downstairs. Look too high and he’s met with your twitching thighs. Look too low and the top of your chest is free residence. And trail even lower, your eyes are shut tight. Bottom lip caught between your teeth nervously, you almost look dumb. No, you do– but he thinks it’s so cute.

So cute and free for the taking. The height of his rolling chair leaves the top of your head right between his legs, close to his growing crotch. He thinks about how he could just unzip right now and sneak his cock right between those gorgeous lips. They’re a different shade than usual, and he loves how it looks on you. Was that another part of this little ploy of yours?

Twisting your neck from side to side, the cacophonous snaps are accompanied by that sweet gasp. Inhaling a sharp bout of air when his grip on your neck is harsher than usual, fingertips digging into you even deeper than before. “Does it hurt…?” He croons, unable to control the grin that forms when he grazes down your forearms.

“A… a little,” You’re squeamish at the flicks of fire that his touch leaves behind, prickles of pleasure going off like bombs in a land mine.

“Oh, poor baby,” He fakes sympathy, now roaming freely around your entire being, save for the spots you need him the most. “It’s because you don’t listen to me. I told you to let go.”

“I do listen to you.” You weakly protest, upset with yourself for displeasing him. A need to satisfy when you look up at him fondly, proving yourself that you can follow what he says.

“I don’t think you do,” He retorts coldly, returning a bleak expression that’s unlike the warm Jeno you’ve grown familiar with in the past few weeks. “I can tell you’ve been neglecting yourself. Have you still been stretching? You’re so… stiff. Do I have to loosen you up? Maybe we do need to keep seeing each other.”

Such crude words stir unspeakable feelings in your lower half, now squirming against him when you try to flee from his hold. “Jeno, I–”

He doesn’t allow you to finish whatever senseless gibberish you had to say. Squishing your cheeks shut, his chest now flush against your back. Prominent nose now at the nape of your neck. Inhaling profusely, the mixture of your perfume and shampoo has him grunting in a sensory overload.

“Just be quiet,” He spits.

A single finger trails from where his lips are located at your nape, all the way down your spine. Admiring his work like an artist who has just created their magnum opus based off of their muse. Every vertebrae perfectly aligned, your back smooth beneath his touch. It was a lie– you took great care of yourself, everything from your posture to your confidence improving vastly. But while he had good intentions, you walking in with that skimpy outfit utterly destroyed his original plan of keeping your relationship strictly professional.

While he was able to build you to his flawless image, it gives him a surge of power to know that he can just as easily break you.

He wants to.

“Lay on your stomach.” He demands. A complete contrast to the kind guidance he typically provides, not helping his own case when he slides his arms under your abdomen. Flipping you over when you take too long to do as he says. Gasping at how quickly he tosses you, remorseless when you yelp out in surprise.

His grip immediately seeks purchase on your back, maniacal when he continues the appointment like usual. The cold air conditioning hitting the crease of your bottom. Your eyes widen when you realize that your skirt has rode high enough for your ass to be exposed to Jeno’s wandering gaze. Wrists are immediately slapped away with a stinging pain when you try to protect your modesty. “No!” You scream.

“What did I say?” He pinches the inside of your thigh, taunting you for more of that sweet cry when he hurts you more. “See? You really don’t listen. I’ve warned you so many times, and look where that’s gotten you. Can’t you just be a good girl for me?”

“I already am!” You talk back, squealing when he smacks your exposed ass. “Fuck– Jeno!”

“I don’t think you are,” He scoffs, kneading the flesh that’s already forming a bruise from the slap. “Good girls don’t walk around with their asses out like little sluts.”

This mental flashbang of such a cruel Jeno paired with unrelenting caresses has a bout of wetness seeping from your core. Back arching pathetically when the aftershock travels to your clit. Biting your cheek when he laughs at your compromised position. Having to pull himself away from his desires for just a moment, remembering that you were here to be adjusted.

“See how bad you are for me? You made me forget what I was supposed to be doing.” His cadence now completely riddled with saccharine. “Let me take care of you, baby.”

Jeno has taken the words out your mouth. Physically incapable of forming a complete sentence, still in too much shock. Hands coming up to the top of your back, carrying on his adjustments much more harshly. One crack after another, that same air that fills your brain that you thrive off of. Moaning out in pleasure at the relief he provides. Both an angel and a devil with his hands.

“See?” He bends over, pulling your blouse down from your back to expose your shoulder blade. Laving his tongue against you before nipping at the crook of your jaw. Kissing whatever skin that your blouse will reveal. “If this is how obscenely you act when I’m just doing my job, I wonder how much louder you get when I do what I want.”

“What do you want?” You gasp out when he hikes your shirt up, now traveling down only to come back up, licking a fat stripe from the bottom all the way back up. Your hands grip into the sides of the drop bed, nails scratching crescents into the faux black leather.

“Don’t be dense,” He grunts out while ripping your blouse over your head. Disposing of the material carelessly, meeting the fine slope of your back with an insatiable lust. The clasp of your lacy bra resembles a ribbon on top of a Christmas present. He unclasps it, eager to unwrap his gift. So close to achieving perfection, he loses himself to his desires. Mounting himself above you, a confined cock that feels massive now grinding between your thighs. He enjoys the struggle when you pathetically try to kick and squirm. “You know what I want.”

You do, and you know that you want it just as badly. Both day and night dreams of Jeno ravaging you with his brute strength. Marking you as his and bending you to close to impossible positions. Drooling at the thought of being fucked on every corner of his office loud enough to break the interior of the soundproof walls.

When you fall slack beneath him, he proceeds to strip you of your skirt. Still appalled by how lecherous you could be. The fall from grace as the friendly office lady to the woman he’s wanted to fuck senseless becoming a bane to his existence.

“Please, Jeno…” You beg of him. Wanting him to do something, anything to satiate this new ache. Compared to the back pains you’ve experienced in the past, Jeno’s inflicted a new problem for you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He coos.

“H-hurts,” You sniffle, unable to cope with not being full of him. “I need you to fix it.”

“Hm, what hurts?”

A full set of teeth form into the most devilish grin when you reach behind you, taking his hand into yours and guiding it to your sopping pussy, urging him to feel around the seat of the destroyed fabric. Panties now ruined to the point it sticks into your folds, thighs twitching wantonly. It was degrading. To be close to completely naked under a fully clothed man, yet you couldn’t help but love it. “Here… hurts here.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?”

“I need you, Jeno,” You practically sob. “Need you to fix it.”

As practitioner and patient, he had sworn long ago to provide his clientele with the best service. That applies now more than ever. Your wish was his command, and he plans on delivering on that tenfold.

Climbing down your body, he stops past your ankles. Gripping at your panties and sliding them down your legs, growling at your glistening lips that shine bright under the white ceiling lights. Finding your ass once again and parting them for good measure, groaning when your cheeks jiggle back into position upon letting them go. “Gorgeous, beautiful body,” He praises you, fingers immediately darting towards your folds to give them an experimental flick, reeling at how easily you flinch under him. “And so fucking sensitive, too.”

Pushing up at your thighs, he has you in a downward dog, knees planted firmly on the drop bed and your back bent for him. Jeno’s hand sneaks around your belly and down your lower region, index and middle slotting around your clit.

“Ahh–,” You gasp out loud, clasping a hand over your mouth at the attention to your most sensitive nerve. Wetting the tips of his fingers between your folds, traveling back instantly to caress circles into the nub. Lips coming down to the base of your back once again, already knowing many of your erogenous zones through the subtle fondling from your past visits. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?” He hums, pecking smooches down your ass. A one track mind to inhale your heady scent for himself.

“So good, fuck–!” Toppling over when he brings that same fat tongue to the center of your core, coated in spit when he shakes his head from side to side. Eating you out from the back with a vice, his two fingers still unrelenting against your clit. Pushing at your button and the tip of his appendage fighting to break past the barrier, succeeding with only little resistance. Eyes rolling to the back of your head when you feel him against your walls, shameless slurping as your wetness trickles down his throat. “Oh my fucking god.”

“Tastes so good, baby.” He rasps, breaking away for a moment of breath. Replacing his tongue with the fingers that were attacking your clit. Wrapping his other arm around your thigh to keep you from falling off, entertained at how you pathetically try to support yourself by planting your head into your forearms. Tummy sucking in and gasping for breath when he finds your g-spot with embarrassing ease. Almost as if your body was made for him to navigate.

“So spoiled,” He shakes his head at your incessant moaning, not surprised that he was right on the money to think you’d be such a whiny bitch. “Pretty girl acts like a slut to get fucked and she gets what she wants. You’re lucky this cunt makes up for it.”

When you turn to look behind you, you’re met with a gaze devoid of anything but a need to fuck and claim, locked onto your pussy like it was the only thing he knew in this world. His lips slick with your juices, hair a brazen mess that poked in several directions– the epitome of sex. Your desires personified into a single being.

Catching the way you ogle him, he snickers at your dumbfounded face. Amping up the intensity of his finger fucking, his palm slapping against your core with every meeting of the hilt to your entrance. Fucked out gazes lock onto one another, and he needs to make it known that you don’t hold a candle to him. Opening his mouth to make a show of lolling his tongue out, coming back to get a taste of your puckered rim.

“Wait, Jeno, not there!” You claw at his hair, grappling harshly against his scalp. The burn causes him to wince, features scrunching yet remaining adamant on tasting every part of your body. Pinning you down at your back, you’re now unable to fight him when your chest falls completely flat. Your other arm rendered useless as it’s your anchor to keep you from completely toppling over. Despite your protests, the circles that he draws with his pink muscle has you singing contradictory praises.

That knot at the core of your abdomen constricts, losing autonomy over your body and granting Jeno complete control. Features twisting to euphoria when he reaches lengths further with his fingers than past partners have with their own cocks. And when he’s able to break past the barrier of your tightest barrier of your upper hole and he flicks at the spongy wall inside, your vision goes white.

A broken cry crashes along the four walls, droplets of sticky wetness decorating Jeno from the bridge of his nose to the top of his collarbones. Immediately breaking away from you to focus on fingering you until you’ve given him all of your cum. Jaw dropped wide open as he tries to catch every bout of squirt. Nails scratching at his scalp and lacing into the strands for stability, the pain only aiding in the ache of his restrained cock. The stuffing of the leather now seeping out from how deeply you’ve scratched against it, its wood frame misaligned with the weight that Jeno had planted on top of you.

Your body is limp when your orgasm subsides, aftershocks still causing you to jolt when Jeno gives your pussy a light slap.

“Best orgasm of your life, huh?” He gloats, cleaning off the remaining stickiness on his face with the back of his hand. Bringing his wrist that’s adorned by a Rolex up to his knuckles. Your essence now etched into every one of his senses. You lay almost lifeless and without a response. A pathetic sight that causes Jeno to scowl, offended that you could even think that he was done with you.

Still trying to catch your breath, you hear a ghost of a whisper, metal clanking and clothes rustling. When you muster up the energy, you catch Jeno in your peripheral. Unbuttoning his black dress shirt and unbuckling his belt, the brand name material slipping from his clutches. The metal of the buckle clanking against the floor, his exposed collarbones shining with perspiration and your cum.

He circles around the bed to meet you, looking down at you with a snide smile when you realize that he’s now shirtless. It was true, he really did have visuals sculpted by the Gods. Broad shoulders on top of a pronounced chest, slimming down to a lean waist.

Slowly unzipping his jeans, pushing them down along with his boxers. Finally revealing his cock in all of its glory, monstrous in size. Long and girthy, the biggest you’ve ever encountered. Slapping against his stomach and his precum covered tip meeting his bellybutton. It’s almost terrifying, there’s no way you could ever take him.

As if he’s read your mind, he cups your face sweetly like he’s done plenty of times before– yet it holds more of a threatening aura than any positive reinforcements. “Don’t be scared. I’ll make sure it fits.” He murmurs, loving how you instinctually take his thumb into your mouth.

When he leaves your wet cavern, he grabs at the base of his cock and places it just below your lips. “Spit.” He instructs, leaving no room for objection.

Dropping a thick glob of saliva, he immediately bobs it up and down to coat it along his length. A significant amount of precum aiding him even further in lubrication. The mix of fluids riddling the room with the pungent smell of sex. You’re both inebriated off of the prospect of what’s about to occur next.

Biceps are angled deliciously when he bends down to wrap his arms around your waist, flipping you back onto your back. A shadow of your sweet doctor fading in when he climbs on top of you once again, despite how beautifully he glows. You two nod at each other when he lines himself up with your core, thankful for the pool that has formed between your thighs.

“Breathe for me, alright?” He says. It takes a great deal to control himself, wanting nothing more than to plunge into you in one go. Regardless, he controls his urges. His tip enters you slowly, the both of you gasping in unison at the newfound pleasure. Weeks of mixed signals now coming to fruition with every inch he goes deeper. “God, you’re fucking tight.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Jeno was so thick that it felt like he was splitting you in half, parting your walls and filling up every crevice inside. Each inch gives you a sense of fulfillment when you earn his praises. Showering you with compliments, affirming how good you’re making him feel and how wet you are.

“That’s my good little slut,” Jeno groans into your hair. Delivering a quick kiss to your ear before licking up the shell, hoping it distracts you from the strain. He stills after bottoming out, merely rutting around in place of fucking you mercilessly. Taking a moment to relish in the way your pussy encapsulates his cock, coating him with your sticky arousal to the point it leaks out.

Pain quickly fades into blissful pleasure. Cupping his jaw to urge him to look at you, you feel your chest burn at his handsome face. His ruined hair still looks perfect when it falls over his forehead messily, lips red and swollen from all he’s done to you. “I’m okay now, you can move.” You confirm, and the shift in his demeanor lets you know that you don’t have to tell him twice.

He starts with a few experimental thrusts, watching you closely and seeing what spots make you tick. Noting that you like when he puts power into his thrusts. Gripping the frame of the cushion your head rests on, he lifts himself to pull out until it’s only the tip that connects you. Granting you maybe a second of peace before immediately plunging back down, causing you to screech out in euphoria.

From there, everything is fair game. Bodies slapping against one another when he grips your ankles and spreads them apart. Fucking you with purpose, everything from his hairline to his abs are covered in sweat. The shine makes his skin glow gold, every taut muscle accentuated by the perspiration.

While your pussy is a delight and has him throwing his head back, he still has so many fantasies that he wants to fulfill. Releasing your ankles, your legs plop down weakly. Pulling out of you and leaving you empty, causing you to shriek at the loss. Scrambling to sit up when he stands up, trying to grab at his cock to lead him back inside. “No, no, no–!”

Nothing could have prepared you for when he lifts you up from the bed with nothing more than a grunt, delivering another stinging slap when you scream at him. Slapping at his shoulders to let you down even if your body betrays you by wrapping your legs around his waist. Traveling only a few paces, he slams you against the nearest wall. Framed photos and contents in bookshelves shaking, gasping out when he realigns his cock with your entrance.

When he dons a blank expression, as if wondering what to do next, you furrow your eyebrows together. Pussy still empty and in need of being filled, you whine. “Jeno, hurry, please.”

He doesn’t thrust up into you however, instead he plants you down onto his cock. Using his pure arm strength to lift you up and down like a fuckdoll. His forearms blazing with bulging veins. Your back is burning as it scrapes against the wall deliciously. Amazed at such fortitude, you continue to cry out when he hits that spot inside you with precision each time. A babbling mess when your chests collide and he licks up the salty tears that you’ve shed, laughing into your ear mischievously.

“I hope you know that nobody will ever be able to fuck you like this,” He laughs out, grip on your ass spreading the cheeks apart to accentuate his point. “No matter who you find in the future– they’ll never be as good as me. You know that right, baby?”

You bob your head to agree with whatever you caught from his sentence, stroking his ego just the way he likes. Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t formulate your own thoughts at this point. Much like the slight high you experience whenever Jeno had adjusted you before, your head light and empty– you now feel it at its utmost potential. Unable to control your body when a trail of spit leaks out of the corner of your chin.

Jeno stares at you fondly, arms growing just a tad tired. He transfers the effort into his legs, planting his weight into his calves to stabilize you. Allowing for one of your legs to fall to go even deeper, your other thigh still folded in. Holding your head with his hand, he knows you’ve floated into another state of being, your pussy unconsciously clasping around him every time he angles just right.

“What a dumb, pretty baby,” He practically sings, utterly in awe at how fucked out he’s gotten you. Licking off the drool from your lip with the intent to clean you up nicely. Dropping your leg that’s hiked up, he lifts you once again. Now leading you to his desk, letting you down only to bend you over. “Let’s finish together, okay?”

Moaning out something that sounded like a yes, he takes what he can get when he reenters you for the third time. Eyes fluttering shut when you surround him once again. “Think this pussy might be the death of me.” He grunts.

“Your cock is soo good,” You mewl, your breasts cool against the mahogany of his desk. Seeking sanctuary by grabbing onto whatever trinkets or paperweights that litter the surface. The back of your thighs aching from trying to keep up with Jeno’s relentless pace. “So, so, big.”

“Yeah?” He lifts a sweat dripped brow, pistoning his hips with generosity. Taking care of his patient will always be his top priority. Fingers meeting your clit one last time, swiping at it with ease from how wet it is. “Cum for me now, baby. You earned it. Did so well for me.”

Clenching his thighs, he fucks into you one last time. Pushing into your body with his own so forcefully that you ride up the desk. One last cry to the empty vicinity, nothing registers except for Jeno. His scent, how he feels, those hands that have gotten you into so much trouble– he really fucked you so good. So good that all you know at the moment is his name. Your orgasm washing over you, pussy clenching impossibly tightly he roars. More squirt shooting out of you, a sticky mess falling onto the carpet floor of his office.

In a few more self indulgent thrusts of his own, Jeno pulls out completely. Pumping himself no more than two times before his cum flies out. Bobbing up and down to get out every last drop of creamy white, painting your beautiful back with his liquid. Harsh gasps are paired with your patternless pants, the both of you were spent.

Jeno decides to utilize the last of his energy for good. Lifting you up once again and walking towards the comfortable loveseat that rests in the corner of the room. The sticky fluids aren't much of a problem while you catch your breaths. He wraps his arms around to hold you in his lap, your head resting against his chest. Rubbing circles into your neck and whispering sweet praises, waiting patiently for you to come back to earth.

“You okay?” He asks when your eyelids flutter up slowly, that shine back in your face to let him know that you’ve recovered. “Lost you there for a little bit.” He teases, pinching at your cheek playfully.

“Oh, shut up.” You pitifully try to push him away, much to no avail. Flashing you a charming grin that rivals the sun itself. “I knew that chiropractors were quacks.”

“Not my fault you’re hot as fuck.”

“I said ‘shut uup’,” You whine, dropping your head into his shoulder to give yourself more time to recuperate. “Let me rest. I think you’ve somehow caused more damage to my back than heal it.”

It’s obvious that you’re overexaggerating, but Jeno can’t help but accept the backhanded compliment with pride. Admiring the relaxed smile you try to hide from him, he pats your hair that’s sticking up back down.

“Guess we’ll just have to keep seeing each other then.” He replies, falling into a slumber himself.

——

“So.”

“So?”

“We’re okay right?” You tilt your head curiously, now fully rested and cleaned up. Jeno having to rush the both of you to the staff only bathroom when Jisung left for break, a few scanty touches here and there.

Hands lodged into his pockets, Jeno is even more handsome with the afterglow of sex. You hope you’re at least a fraction as presentable as he is. “If you’re okay, I’d say we’re just peachy. However–”

“Oh god.” You dread the worst case scenario of being blacklisted and having to find another chiropractor.

“Will you let me finish?” He glowers at you, making you shut up immediately. Now that you know that Lee Jeno is not to be messed with. “Anyways,” He continues. “I think you deserve a treat for being so good.”

Taking his right hand out of his pocket, he presents you with a business card. A complete contrast to the simplicity of Jeno’s, a completely black square with red accents. Before you get a chance to read what’s written, he speaks again. “That’s my colleague here at the complex. He’s actually right across the hall.”

Now given the opportunity, you find that Jeno has referred you to a nail bar. “And what is this treat you’re offering?”

“Well, if you’re ever interested in getting a manicure or pedicure, you’ll want to go to him. He’s the best in town. Nobody does nail art like him,” He chuckles. “Let me know if you’re interested. I’ll ask him to give you a discount.”

If there’s anything you’ve learned from these past few weeks, it’s that investing in yourself a little goes a long way. Spending too much time worried about necessities that require minimal maintenance, you’ve forgotten to indulge yourself along the way. Looking down at your nail beds whose cuticles you’ve failed to tend to, you take Jeno’s offer into consideration.

“I’ll keep that in mind, thanks.” You give him your warmest smile. “Can I ask you something though?”

“Go for it.”

“Haechan told me it’s been hard to schedule with you recently, but I’ve been seeing you pretty often.” You try to phrase it as humbly as possible, not wanting to come off as arrogant. “Is there a reason for that?”

“I mean, you did need more adjustment than my other patients who have been long time regulars. But I guess I got a little ahead of myself.” He boxes his nose, and for the first time ever you think you’ve caught Dr. Lee Jeno’s cool exterior slipping. “You have a really nice ass.”

“Thanks.” You deadpan. “You have nice arms– and legs, and a really nice… nevermind.”

Shaking his head at you, he walks you out when you take your leave. Bidding you adieu with a friendly pat, the both of you thankful that the heated sex hasn’t obstructed your relationship as patient and doctor at all.

You reach high into the sky, feeling like you’re at your absolute best. Wondering what else you can do to improve your state of being. Thinking back to the business card that you had pocketed, you locate the other door adjacent to Jeno’s. Much to his description, there is a sign that indicates that there is very much a beauty salon on the other side of that door.

Shrugging to yourself, you decide you’ll sleep on his offer. Making your way to the front desk to find Jisung eating away at his meal. You realize you’ve already grown fond of how this business is run.

“Come back and see us!” Jisung waves at you, to which you return with equal enthusiasm. “Hope to see you again soon!”

You realize it’s inevitable when you exit the front lobby and step out into the parking lot. The large Neo Therapy Practitioners sign standing proud at the awning above you, the new business card taking up space in your purse–

You’ll be seeing them alright.

end (☺) -> next

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author’s note: if you made it all the way here, thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it.

i really want to thank panty nonnie who i’ve been in contact with through dms and have grown very close with in the past month. they’ve been an absolute angel and i couldn’t have gotten over my writer’s block without them. so, if you’re reading this (again hehe) just know that you’re the best and am more than grateful for all you’ve done for me. <3

#lee jeno #jeno smut #nct #nct smut #nct dream smut #kpop smut #jeno x reader #nct dream #reader insert #kpop fanfic

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