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yandere-writer-momo · 3 months

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Yandere Head Canons:

Predator and Prey

Yandere Various Beastmen/ women x Human Afab Reader

You live in a world ruled by beast men where you are the lowest on the food chain. Sadly for you, you’re often treated like a play thing by your coworkers…

Tw: Breeding, lesbian sex, smut, mounting, predator/ prey dynamics, Yandere behavior, etc

Leveret- Holland Lop

Leveret was your sweet childhood friend and loyal companion! He was incredibly shy to the point you’d always have to stand up for him. He has always looked up to you ever since you were kids… you were his hero!

Leveret is your standard pretty boy. Hyper feminine and lean, he often wears pastels. His fawn colored hair is usually a bit long and very fluffy, just like his floppy ears! Leveret is very cute but equally pathetic. He never stands up for you, but you’re never upset with him since he is a rabbit. What could prey do to a predator other than run away? It made his heart soar that you were never upset with him… Leveret wouldn’t be able to live with himself if you hated him!

Leveret went to work in the office with you so the two of you are together forever (just like you promised as kids). He doesn’t want to lose sight of his shining star!

Leveret love when you scratch his ears. He automatically thumps his foot which makes him embarrassed so you often reassure him. Leveret loves how sweet you are to him.

Leveret secretly idolizes you and has an entire shrine dedicated to you. He’s a pathetic man. He’s too scared to confess his overwhelming feelings so he settles for collecting keepsakes from you. Nothing you’d ever miss of course, but they meant the world to him!

Chapsticks, silverware, panties, it didn’t matter! It was all kept in a box under his bed for him to romance through when he felt especially pathetic.

Leveret often huffed and humped your soiled panties like the pathetic loser he was! He’d be over the moon if you saw him like this… if you told him how pathetic he was. It was his deepest fantasy! To be dominated by you! To have his small, pathetic cock inside of you. He’s a bunny so he could go for hours! Whatever you want…

Leveret often stalks you when you’re not around him and it turns him on to see you taken advantage by the other beast men, especially Amara.

He often wishes he was a predator so he could be more dominant and confident but he’s okay being a prey instead. You’re never suspicious of him this way… so it’s much easier for you to let your guard down around him

Amara- Spotted Hyena

Amara has a dirty blonde and black spotted wolf cut and scars from one side of her cheek to the other. Her whole body is covered in scars from her constantly picking fights.

Amara is a bully. She’s the meanest coworker to you just because of your species (human).

She often slams her shoulder into yours, knocks your papers out of your hands, or spills food/ drinks on your clothes. Luckily her bullying is only physically since the entire office dislikes her. Arielle is especially not fond of Amara.

You often see the African lion and spotted hyena get into spats

Her loud cackles always fills the office which raised the concerns of your coworkers. Arielle is often the one to come to your rescue. Which only makes Amara more agitated

Yet despite her cruelty to you, you’re not mean to her since you understand why she is the way she is. She had a hard home life since she was the youngest in her pack so you knew she was trying to seek power elsewhere

It’s when Amara hears you defend her to Arielle that the bullying begins to stop. “I know it’s just Amara’s nature and if it makes her feel like the leader then she’s fine picking on me. I’m just a human anyways, it’s not like I could ever defend myself.” You understood her instincts? Amara didn’t think a human would understand her more than other beast men would… it started her interest in you.

Amara will stop being physically mean to you since you’ve shown submission to her. Now she will share her lunch with you in an, albeit, forceful way. She will scare off your bunny beast man friend so she can sit with you in the break room instead. The hyena insistent that you needed more protein or you’d be too weak.

Amara is insistent on walking you home. Her hyenas ears flip back and forth on her head to listen to any danger. Her scarred and muscular form was enough to intimidate anyone away from you. Not to mention her 5’11” frame. She was definitely a predator not to be messed with.

Amara will become suffocatingly clingy to the point your boss has to separate the two of you in fear of your safety (and a lawsuit). But that doesn’t stop her from finding you during break time (and to rip you away from Leveret)

Be prepared for the spotted hyena to corner you in the bathroom, her hands grabbing you in every place she can reach as her nose is buried in the crook of your shoulder. How could she not votive how good you smell?!

It isn’t long before she has you bend over the sink, her pseudo penis pressed against your backside as she humps you. She may not be a male, but her organ is perfectly functional for mounting. Won’t you indulge her? Amara hasn’t mounted anyone yet and you said you understood her nature. So won’t you indulge her? It’s not like you could defend yourself, you said so yourself…

Amara may be a woman but she was sure she could please you just as much as a man! The two of you could be mates!

Amara is quite rough and her psuedo penis is quite big. She’s a true dom and has a biting kink. It’s best to avoid being alone with her… unless you enjoy being mounted

Arielle- African Lion

Arielle is a respectable figure in the office. Her ginger hair is usually kept in a pixie cut. She’s a handsome woman with a scar across the right side of her lip. She’s usually the best dressed in the office. She often has to shave her face and arms since she’s a trans woman. Arielle hates her mane that constantly tries to grow back and the excessive body hair (but she’d be over the moon if you tell her you like her hairy arms, she’ll keep them then),

Arielle was the first in the office to take you under her wing and to protect you from the others. She isn’t very fond of the way the others treat you. You’re a rare human! You should be respected…

Arielle often carries extra set of clothes on her so you have something to change into when Amara decides to make you wear a meal or beverage. As much as Arielle hates Amara, it satiates a part of her that adores you in her clothes. Something about it is sexy to her. Especially from how much smaller you are than her.

If you seek her out for help or guidance, you’re instantly in her good graces. You feel safe around her? She’ll keep you safe. You like her clothes? She’ll bring you more. You like her hairy arms? She won’t shave them anymore. You think she’s a beautiful woman? She’ll show you how beautiful she finds you.

Arielle is the most passionate amongst the beast men. She loves to trail kisses across your neck and chest. Her clawed hands are always gentle so she doesn’t hurt you. She’s so happy you don’t mind her genitalia. It makes her cry and purr to be accepted.

Arielle is a little sucker for praise of any kind. She’s quite a lax lover but don’t let that fool you. Arielle is quite protective of you and is willing to shed blood for you if she has to.

Arielle doesn’t mind sharing you with Eden but she’s not fond of the other workers. She especially dislikes Amara and Leveret.

She scents you more than the other beast men. You often find lion hair all over your clothes after a night with her…

Conan- Eastern Wolf

Conan hates humans so he avoids you like the plague. If you try to talk to the gray haired man, he will leave the premises.

Conan is a very attractive man with long gray hair and icy blue eyes. He’s usually quite stoic and quiet so no one ever knows what he’s feeling if they look at his face… his tail tells a different story.

Conan will eventually open up to you when he sees how hard you try to understand the beast men’s behaviors. You’re not a bad human like the others he met and it was rude of him to make such an assumption.

Conan will apologize to you but he still keeps you at arms length, until he notices a certain rabbit being odd. Hell, everyone was odd to you. And Conan didn’t like it.

Conan will offer you solace if the others start to be too much. He’s a bit higher up in the office so you can hide in his office to get away from the stage five clingers but it won’t be long until they find you.

Conan is great at giving advice and he is a great listener. He just never expected to grow fond of you as well… you were too nice for your own good.

Conan refers to you as little red riding hood. “Little red, don’t you think you should avoid someone like me?” And you’d always smile at him. “I think you’re nice though, Conan. You have such kind eyes… I’m happy you became my friend.”

Curse you. Curse you and your kindness. Your gentle scratched behind his ears and your soft words that made his tail wag. Conan began to crave you more and more until all he wanted to do was to breed you like a proper mate should.

Conan will try to stay away from you when he’s in heat by locking himself up in his office. If you choose to ignore the “do not disturb” note on his door because the others are scaring you, he cannot guarantee he won’t pounce on you.

Conan would apologize the entire time as he stuffs you with his knot. But this was your fault. You should know not to get too close to a predator. Didn’t your family ever warn you about the big bad wolf, little red?

Eden- Grizzly Bear

This giant woman was in love with you at first sight. You’re so small compared to her and that meant you needed to be protected!

Eden is the tallest amongst the other people in the office. She’s built like a powerlifter with strong arms and a strong back but has a tummy on her. Her hair is in a chocolate brown mullet and she’s covered in tattoos. She is also openly lesbian.

Outside of work, Eden wears flannels and resides in a cabin in the woods. She enjoys hikes and wood cutting. You jokingly call her a lumberjack.

She loves to talk. Eden is the office chatter box with a gregarious personality. She’s quite boisterous but she’s not a bad person. Eden is thrilled that you don’t mind her incessant chatter, you’re one of the few people…

This giant woman often greets you with a toothy grin and shoves Amara away from you. She’s one of the few people in the office that likes humans.

Eden will share all her snacks with you from the get go and she will be so happy if you share yours! Sharing is caring after all!

Eden loves honey straws that are supposed to be used for tea. She sucks on them like suckers any chance she gets. You often stress concern for her and her love of sweets but not to worry! She’s a grizzly bear! She will be perfectly okay!

She may seem like an idiot but she’s far from it. She notices the way Amara changes her beat around you in a second. And she doesn’t like it. If you build a strong bond with Eden, Eden will go to the bathroom with you and she will pull Amara off you. A bear is not to be messed with, especially not a grizzly.

Now you have this tank of a woman following you around work. Eden offering you snacks and protection in exchange for you talking with her. She’s a lax Yandere save for her over protectiveness.

Eden will take you on hikes and foraging in the woods. She will even teach you which berries and mushrooms are edible! Whatever you want, she will be happy to oblige.

Eden is perfectly okay with just being friends too. She doesn’t mind! Eden just likes being around you. But if you want more with her or if you want a third, she’s open.

Eden is a very giving lover. You will be her cute little princess pillow almost every time. She’d rather do all the work so the two of you can cuddle and watch movies but won’t reject you if you want to go down on her. She gets especially riled up if you offer to suck her strap. How naughty

Eden wouldn’t mind sharing with her best friend, Arielle. She finds it kind of hot to have you crying and moaning under her and the lioness. She’s kind of jealous that Arielle would be able to get you pregnant while she can’t, but she’s still happy to stuff your cute pussy with her strap or her fingers. You’re so fucking cute. Won’t you stay with her forever?

The two (or three) of you could live a pretty efficient life in the woods. So why don’t you just stay here where she can properly protect you?

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cyberslvts · 8 months

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SWEET TALKER || w.maximoff

Summary: In the bustling city of New York, two ambitious entrepreneurs, Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/N, have been fierce competitors in the industry of mechanical engineering. You and Wanda have been at each others throats fighting for the top spot. However, Your opinions on the Scarlet woman change after she approaches you one night with a business proposal.

Warnings: 18+ rivals to lovers, office romance, angst, smut, teasing, oral (r recieving), fingering (r recieving), marking/biting, little twist at the end (i love drama). Wrote this on my flight to Hawaii (teehee)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.1k

Part 2 | Part 3

The names Y/n L/n and Wanda Maximoff had become synonymous with power and dominance in the bustling streets of New York City.

Y/n L/n was the heir to the L/n family empire, a legacy that had its origins in the late 1950s. Back then, L/n technology had been at the forefront of demand, supplying the country with groundbreaking innovations. Their influence was so profound that buildings, schools, and billboards bore their name in honor. They became the embodiment of high society and untouchable success in America.

However, after the passing of Y/ns father, the company’s prestige and reputation went downhill. Soon L/n. Inc was buried by other up-incoming engineers with bigger ideas, faster solutions, and more efficient products. What was once America's most prestigious company was now a forgotten memory.

Until your twenty third birthday arrived, and your father's will stipulated that upon his passing, the empire would be handed over to the eldest L/n child.Taking charge of the company, you unleashed your unrelenting drive. For years, you had observed your father's tireless nights of work, and the dedication he poured into the company. His legacy became your purpose.

Growing up, your life revolved around your father's teachings and his pursuit of excellence. From a young age, he immersed you in the world of science and technology, and you soaked up knowledge like a sponge. As he explained the intricate molecular structure of vibranium, you sat in awe in your high chair, absorbing every word.

From that moment on, you were expected to be nothing short of a carbon copy of your brilliant father. Academics became your priority, and you quickly excelled in the math and science fields. However, this dedication came at a cost – you sacrificed social outings and events during high school, choosing instead to spend your time perfecting your craft and living up to your father's high standards. Long hours were spent hunched over a desk, diving deep into research and innovation. Now, with the responsibility of the company resting on your shoulders, you were determined not to let all your father's hard work go to waste. The thought of allowing untalented and entitled individuals to take over what was built with so much passion and dedication ignited a fierce determination within you.

After inheriting the company 10 years ago you immediately rose through the ranks and L/n. Inc was back on the tabloids as New York's top engineering company. Driven by a relentless ambition, you earned your place as a formidable figure in the engineering landscape. Your brilliant ideas along with your father's teachings allowed you to refine your technology and weapons to perfection. The demand for your products was through the roof and you made millions. High-paying investors from all around the world were coming to New York to see and buy your designs.

Your cold, focused, and reserved nature, along with your rapidly growing empire intimidated potential competitors, which gained you the respect and prestige you needed to uphold the company’s reputation.

You were unstoppable.

That was until Maximoff Industries.

Maximoff Industries was Sokovias most prominent and respected engineering company. Even though they were still relatively new to the field that didn’t stop them from breaking countless records and rising through the ranks Once they decided to relocate to New York. As expected they were quick to put a dent in your sales numbers.

At the heart of it all was Wanda Maximoff – a powerhouse of a woman, displaying a captivating aura that draws people in. While not as cold and detached as you, she maintains a level of professionalism that commands respect and admiration. Some might even describe her as friendly, with a warmth that contrasts the cool exterior of her competitor. But beneath her approachable demeanor lies an unwavering determination and a fierce desire to become the best engineering company the world has ever seen.

Thus, a rivalry was formed. The competition between both of your Companys was electric. Every Month either you or Wanda was ahead. You had your team work themselves until the brink of death coming up with new ideas that would outsell Maximoff Industries. The same trope echoed within Wanda's company, as her team matched your dedication step for step. Late nights and early mornings became the new reality as she dissected every aspect of your technology, searching for any imperfections. Anything she could use to break you down.

The rivalry between your companies intensified with each passing month, setting the business world abuzz with anticipation and excitement. Photos, articles, and Newspapers were being published every month detailing any upcoming projects or interactions you two had with each other. Whenever asked about anything Wanda related your responses were always the same.

“No comment”

“Would rather not say”

“I'm not allowed to say anything”

You always tried to stay out of the media as much as possible, you knew how everything was twisted or taken out of context in order to satisfy their audience. Wanda on the other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of the overwhelming attention. Always happy to give detailed responses to random interviewers on the street and pose for photographers, even though it was clear they were following her. She was basically their only outlet to you since she apparently had no filter when it came to the paparazzi.

“I heard she's working on a new type of AI device that's going to be used in search and rescue missions”

“Of course, we don’t hate each other! Just Friendly competition!”

“She's single, I think. But with her looks, who knows?”

Her latest interview sparked a plethora of theories among the people of New York, The press finding endless entertainment in your perceived connection. Were they secretly working together? Dating? Sleeping together?

Amidst all the success and recognition, there was one area that remained untouched – matters of the heart. Your relentless dedication to the company and your guarded demeanor left little room for personal connections. Love had always seemed like a distraction, and you found comfort in pouring your energy into your work, your empire, and your dreams.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the open-faced magazine on your desk. This is exactly why you stayed out of the press. Once they found out one little snippet of information about you they would twist it around just to fuel their crazy theories. Now you would have to prepare yourself to be bombarded with flashing camera lights and microphones being shoved in your face all while you were just trying to get to your car.

Yet, compared to past allegations, a dating rumor was almost a relief. In October, you'd been accused of murdering your father to claim the business. Another scandal involved pregnancy after declining a drink at a New Year's Eve party. A dating rumor would likely fade within a week.A dating rumor was a piece of cake. You’d been accused of sleeping with a number of people in the past. It would blow over within a week.

Your eyes trained back on the magazine cover “A secret scandalous affair” followed by photos of you and Wanda. Your thumb found its way to your teeth as you leaned back in your big office chair with the magazine in your hand. Your interest starting to peak. At least this rumor was somewhat entertaining for you. Typically the people you were accused of sleeping with were past friends of your father, who were old, fat, or balding.

Amongst your hatred for Wanda, you couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was undeniable. Your eyes gazed upon the photo in the magazine, it was a photoshoot Wanda had done for a sponsorship a few months ago. She wore a dark red suit that fit perfectly around her body, her hair cascaded past her shoulders as she gazed into the camera with a gentle smile. She was posing in the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by giant buildings that framed her gorgeous figure. pedestrians blurred in the background which only highlighted her powerful presence. Her bright green eyes stared right back at you as you continued to observe the photograph. Her arms, legs, nose, lips-

“What are you reading?”

You were startled out of your daze, quickly shutting the magazine and sitting up straight in your seat to see Natasha raising an eyebrow and giving you a confused look.

“Nothing. just these ridiculous magazines I keep getting sent” you replied, moving a stack of papers over the cover.

Natasha suspiciously observed your rather shaken-up demeanor as she was expecting your serious deadpan face when she walked in not you ogling at a photo of Wanda Maximoff “Ok. Well… just wanted to tell you the monthly report came back in and once again we are second to Maximoff, by 5 sales this time”

“What. Are you sure? The last time I checked…” Your focus trailed off as you began clicking through different files on your computer.

“I'm sure. It's that new drone she just released. Stark Industries just bought ten of them” Natasha's hands were now in her pockets, observing your worried yet focused expression which was glued to the screen of your computer. Natasha was the Vice president of L/N Inc. And you owed most of your success to the redhead. She was the backbone of the company and shared the same passions and desires as you.

Those weeks were it seemed like you were working yourself into a grave in order to meet upcoming deadlines, She was right by your side, writing notes, crunching numbers, filling out spreadsheets and even correcting the mistakes you rarely made. She kept all of your employees at the top of their game when you weren't there to bark orders at everyone, and you were almost positive you and the rest of the company would be a chaotic mess if it weren't for her.

“We need to move up the timeline for the AI robot release if we want to get ahead next month” Natasha was now in front of your desk handing you a blue folder “This is a new updated timeline for the project. I know it's faster than we planned but I think if we can get this AI out before September we have a chance at getting ahead of Maximoff for the October reports”

You sighed as you looked over the papers “Thank you, Nat. I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you”

She gave you a sympathetic nod before turning to exit your office. You felt the stress build in your stomach as you read over the new timeline. It was almost a month ahead of schedule, and you were still a third of the way from finishing the final project.

You were starting to get really sick of Wanda Maximoff.

————————-

The sounds of keyboard clacking and rustling papers were the only things heard in your large office tower, The building was eerily dark, the only light coming from the conference room on the 27th floor. Your back ached and your eyes felt heavy from hours of being hunched over your desk.

You finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms above your head and looking out the big glass windows that overlooked the city, only to be met with the darkness of night and speckles of light illuminating from other buildings. You blinked in surprise checking your watch. 1:46 am. Have you really been here that long?

You sighed and looked at the sprawled-out papers that almost covered the entire conference table, you decided to migrate down to the conference room since your tiny desk wasn’t big enough for this chaotic mess. The situation was growing more and more impossible with each passing minute. Despite brainstorming a multitude of strategies, the looming project deadline for September remained a stark reminder of your impending failure.

Frustration gnawed at you, a tempestuous emotion ignited by the mere thought of Wanda outperforming you in the upcoming monthly report.

Defeat was not an option. Sleep was a distant memory, and your social life had become a casualty of your unwavering commitment to your work. With a determined huff, you settled back into your seat, your brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the multitude of charts, graphs, and spreadsheets demanding your attention. The focus of your thoughts was abruptly interupted by a gentle knock, followed by the slow creaking of your office door.

“Natasha. I already told you I would be staying late” you spoke without looking up from the documents in your hand.

A melodious chuckle filled the air, accompanied by a voice you weren't expecting. “You know, you've been holed up in this tower for so long, I'm starting to think you're avoiding me.

Your gaze immediately shot up once you recognized the sultry voice you had become all to familiar with. There she stood, Wanda Maximoff in all her glory. She wore a loose dark red blouse, tucked into her long black slacks. She must have come straight from her office.

“How did you get in here?” you abandoned the papers, your focus now being shifted to the tall redhead standing in the middle of your conference room.

“Micheal let me in, told him I had important business to discuss with Miss L/N” she replied, removing a hand from her pocket to hold up a day pass badge she must have received from the janitor.

“Well, it looks like I will have to talk to Micheal about letting strangers into the building in the middle of the night” You were beginning to get more frustrated, you had enough to deal with as it is.

“Strangers? Please. me and you both know were obsessed with each other” she said with a cocky tone, only fueling the burning fire in your stomach. She was right of course. The rivalry between you and Wanda was more than just professional competition; it was an obsession that fueled both of your careers. you couldn't count the endless nights you spent researching the Scarlett woman, Watching every interview you could find of her, reading every article. Trying to find any source of information you could use to take her down.

Wanda, too, was caught up in the same game. But unlike her, you were a master at guarding your private life, granting only a glimpse into your world through one or two interviews or photographs a month – sometimes three, if the mood struck you. You were excellent at avoiding the paparazzi, a talent wanda was not fond of. She craved to know the person that was always at the front of her mind, the person that had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past 5 years. The secrecy of Y/n L/N ignited a flame of curiosity and desire inside her. Even though your office buildings were only 2 blocks from each other, she felt like you were on an entirely different planet.

Your rivalry had become a dance of fascination, a battle not only for success in the business world but also for the chance to understand the person behind the titles and achievements. The world may see you as rivals, but deep down, you both knew that there was something more.

“Don't flatter yourself” you spoke while rolling your eyes your patience was getting thinner and the smirk on Wanda's face was not helping. “What do you want wanda? why are you here”

“I wanted to see how you were,” she said, the sincerity evident in her words, this was true. The demands of your rapidly growing empire caused you to withdraw from the outside world. You had been locked away in your office day and night, immersed in your work. You were going out less and less, missing out on the countless business events where Wanda had the privilege of catching a glimpse of you.

Although she grew accustomed to only seeing your presence once and a while at board meetings, exclusive events, or walking through the streets of New York, she was beginning to get frustrated. And a little worried about your growing absence.

You scoffed “Im fine, thank you” turning your attention back to your work, Picking up your abandoned papers and tapping them against the desk to shape them into a neat pile “Now as you can see I am very busy, so if there is nothing else I can help you wi-”

“I have a business proposal for you” she confidently spoke, meeting your cold stare, watching your face briefly contort into confusion before returning back to your usual cold stare.

You narrowed your eyes at her, inspecting her face for any traces of sarcasm. To your surprise you found none. “What are you talking about?”

She watched as you raised a hand to move your reading glasses to the top of your head. Her eyes glossed over at the sight of your hair pushed back, exposing more of your beautiful face.

“Im sure you've heard of stark industries” Wanda spoke, you shifted, of course, you had heard of stark industries.No one had heard of Tony Stark until last year. Within his first year, he had already broken twice as many records as you did when you were first starting out and had already risen to the number four spot in the country. Uncomfortably close to your rank. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wanda's heels clacking on the floor as she made her war closer to you. Now Standing just a few feet from you “He offered me a partnership deal.”

Your face fell and your body froze. This was not good. If Tony and wanda were to partner up, that would be it for you. Panic started to bubble in the pit of your stomach. this news put a crack in the facade you were desperately trying to uphold. Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself watching your serious and cold demeanor crumble in a matter of seconds. “But I turned it down”

“What?” You blinked, making sure you heard her correctly “Have you lost your mind? What could have possibly possessed you to make such a stupid decision.” of course you were immensely relieved that she had declined the offer, however, you couldn't stop the frustration at wanda for turning down such a rare opportunity, An opportunity you would have killed to have. “If you came here just to rub this in my face-”

“I think you and I should partner up”

You were once again at a loss for words. Wanda stepped forward to take a seat closest to you. On one of the many large black swivel chairs in the conference room. “I want you. y/n.” You felt yourself heat up at her choice of words. “Tony's proposal got me thinking. You and I have been the owners of the 2 most successful engineering companies for almost a decade now. I've seen what you're capable of, Y/n. Your innovative ideas, and your dedication to your team, it's admirable. And I can't help but wonder what we could achieve together." Wanda continued, her voice gentle yet confident.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sunk in. Joining forces? You never thought you'd hear those words coming from Wanda's lips. The tension between your companies had always been palpable, and yet here she was, proposing a partnership

The conference room seemed to fade away as you considered her proposal. Working together with Wanda would undoubtedly be challenging, but the potential for greatness was undeniable. The combined expertise, resources, and talent of your two companies could create an engineering powerhouse, one that could outshine any new competition that arose.

As you took a moment to gather your thoughts, Wanda leaned in closer, her hand moving to rest on your knee "Think about it, y/n. I believe we could not only dominate the market but also push the boundaries of what's possible in engineering."

You narrowed your eyes at the woman sitting in front of you “Wanda, where is all of this coming from? you and I have been at each other throats for the past five years and now all the sudden you want to work together?”

Wanda's demeanor shifted, her eyes pierced straight into yours as she leaned forward to take one of your hands in her own. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't ignore the rush of emotions welling up inside.

“Y/N. you are truly brilliant. Your designs are impeccable and You have an undeniable talent that I have been trying to replicate for years.” her hold on your hand tightened. You fell speechless at this confession. A sudden warmth spread throughout your chest. You searched Wanda's eyes for any trace of dishonesty but were only met with a look of raw truth. “Aren't you tired of fighting? wouldn't it feel good to build something great together”

You fell silent as your brain tried to formulate a response. You really weren't expecting this “There's no way it would work, we hate each other”

Wandas eyes softened “Oh, baby, I could never hate you” she spoke, and you felt something twist inside you at her sudden use of a pet name. “sure your constant desire to be better than me gets on my nerves from time to time. But hate? Never.” the sincerity in her words brought a sense of relief and curiosity to you.

The proximity between the two of you was getting thinner. Wanda was now so close your knees were touching and the smell of her expensive perfume flooded your senses.

“Do you want to know what I think” Wanda questioned with a slight smirk on her lips. You hummed in response, the lids of your eyes relaxing as your mind focused on observing the features of her face. “I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do”

“And what makes you say that” You leaned in closer

Wanda's eyes went up and down your body taking in the lovely sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, having undone the first few buttons before she arrived. “I think you want me, and that frustrates you” There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“That's ridiculous” You slightly pulled away, turning your head to avoid her burning gaze. Wanda only moved in closer, putting a hand on your thigh “Oh no I don't think it is. I think deep down, you crave for me as much as I crave you.” you clenched your jaw in embarrassment, your face felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, She stood up, her hands moving to place themselves on the arms of your chair, hovering over you, enveloping you in her presence. “Truth is, you make me so angry y/n” You turned to look up at Wanda.

“I've thought about you almost every day for the past 5 years. I've thought about every possible way I could breakdown those walls you set up, find any crack just so I could see who you really are.” you felt the ends of her long hair brush against the apples of your cheeks, leaning down further to rest her knee right in between you thighs, pushing your back further into the chair.

“I don't like how I can’t get to you, I hate how you shut me out.” Wanda brought a hand to your chin, angling your face upwards to stare right back into her emerald eyes. “I hate that I can't have you.”

your eyes softened, reaching out to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek. despite all the chaos that was you and Wanda, you felt a sense of sorrow illuminating from her. You couldn't help the tug you felt in your heart.

Her knee between your thighs sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. The moment was electric, and the air seemed charged with unspoken desires. As she held your chin, her thumb gently caressing your cheek, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes, and it mirrored your own.

“Trust me, Wanda, I've always been yours,” you think in some twisted way it was true. You had practically built your empire on the dedication of her. You knew every detail about her, from the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the shimmer she got in her eyes just before she was about to tell a joke. You had invasively studied her for 5 long years. You went to bed dreaming of fiery red hair and woke up thinking about sea-green eyes. no other person had your attention like Wanda did.

Wanda's eyes darkened, her gaze moving down towards your lips. You felt all of the tension from the past 5 years building up in the room. What was about to happen was inevitable. You and Wanda both knew it.

Finally, Wanda leaned down to press her lips against yours, she started off slow, basking in the softness of your lips. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency overcame you both, and you could feel the walls that once separated you crumble.

Without a second thought, Wanda effortlessly lifted you off your chair and onto the desk. The sensation of being hoisted up caused you to gasp, to which Wanda took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. Wanda's arms held you securely as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist. You moaned when you felt the hard metal of her belt press against your clothed pussy.

You suddenly pulled back, Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and tried to chase after your lips, “Wanda. You know if we do this…things will change” you breathlessly spoke, your tone laced with caution but also lust.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know” Wanda quickly responded, attempting to reconnect your lips.

You put a hand on her chest, stopping her from devouring you “Things could get messy… and complicated”

All of a sudden, Wanda pushed you so your back laid flat against the mess of papers, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. Using one hand she grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as she held you firmly against the desk “Y/n. I know. Trust me, I have thought about this a lot.”

You didn't have a chance to respond before Wanda smashed her lips back into yours, she used her other hand to run up the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. She moved her lips down to the edge of your jaw and then your neck. “Your so perfect” she mumbled against the soft skin of your neck.

Her fingers worked to undo the buttons of your blouse, practically ripping it from your body and tossing it to the side. Her mouth returned to your body, her teeth nipping at your collarbones as she moves her hand underneath you to unhook your bra.

You couldn't help but moan out when her mouth enclosed around one of your hardened nipples. With her hand still binding your wrists above your head you could only arch up your chest further into her mouth, letting out a pleasure-filled groan when she used her other hand to pinch a roll your other nipple between her fingers.

“You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you like this.” She groaned into your chest, Sending vibrations into your skin.

She finally let go of your wrists bringing her hand down to cup your pussy, now able to freely use your hands you tangled them in the mess of red hair that was splayed all over your chest.

Using her fingers she swiftly moved your panties to the side.

Wanda almost lost it when she pressed her hand against your pussy, feeling your wetness coat her fingertips. Her fingers ran up and down your slit, before she slipped them inside you, curling them right against your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Wanda” you harshly bit your lip, throwing your head back onto the desk. Wanda's fingers continued to pump in and out of you, setting a perfect rhythmic pace. You struggled to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, desperately attempting to hold onto any sense of dignity you had left amidst the overwhelming pleasure. However, It became clear that Wanda was determined to unravel you completely at this very moment.

“No, don't, I need to hear you.” Wanda breathlessly begged, momentarily pausing her fingers, causing you to let out a whine and buck your hips up to move her fingers deeper inside you. Surrendering, You moved your hand from your mouth, and as a reward she resumed her fingers, this time using her thumb to circle your clit. You were beginning to lose yourself in her, your senses becoming overwhelmed with Wanda. You wanted this feeling to last forever, to savor the feeling of her inside you.

Your moans were begining to get louder, Your jaw went slack against the side of her face as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you at a ridiculous pace.

Wanda watched in pure adoration, your gorgeous face contorting in pleasure, your hips jumping up in fits to meet her hand, A rush of pride swelled up inside of her, knowing she could get this reaction out of you. y/n l/n. The daunting woman feared by half of the engineering industry. The same woman whom others could only dream of catching a mere glimpse of was now falling apart underneath her. Wanda couldn't help but want to be the only person who saw you in this intimate way. The thought of being the one who could unravel the layers of the formidable y/n l/n ignited a fiery wave of possessiveness within her.

“You're doing so good, baby” Wanda praised, returning her lips to your neck where she sunk her teeth into the softness of your skin and began to suck. Your eyes suddenly shot open and tugged on her hair causing Wanda to let out a groan, vibrating into your skin.

“Wanda don't, people will see” You were panting at this point, you could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any given moment.

“I want them to see, I want everybody to know that you are mine.” her tone was assertive and dominating, her mouth never left the skin of your neck where she left behind deep red marks that you were sure would ache in the morning.

Her sudden possessiveness made you throb. A thrilling wave of desire surged through your body. Everything about Wanda was undeniably intoxicating – her confidence, her intelligence, the way she held herself with such magnetic allure. The way she looked at you with those intense, emerald eyes, the way her hands traced tenderly over your skin and the way she claimed you as hers ignited a primal response within you.

You surrendered to her, throwing your head back to give her complete access to you. her fingers just felt so good and her soft lips attacking your neck sent electric jolts throughout your body.

“God, fuck, wanda im gonna cum”

“Yeah? gonna be a good girl and make a mess all over my fingers?” Wandas fingers moved faster in you, her thumb moved to put more pressure on your clit, encouraging you to reach your climax. You buried your face in the crook of Wandas neck, biting into her shoulder as you fell into your orgasm, shaking and writhing against Wanda's tight hold.

“That's it, baby, keep going” wanda was moaning into your ear, feeling your wet walls tense and spasm around her fingers.

Wanda slowed down the pace of her fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm before gently pulling them out of you.

She placed soothing kisses over the bruises she had created on your neck, she kissed her way up your body until she met your lips. You sighed into the gentle feel of her lips against yours, basking in the feeling of your post-orgasmic glow.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, more than alright” you giggled, wanda smiled against your lips, holding your body flush against her. She pulled back to take in the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and red, a beautiful blush adorned your cheeks, and your chest was rising and falling with every heavy breath you took in. Your hair, which was now nothing more than a disheveled mess, cascaded past your shoulders, framing your face in a captivating way.

“Absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. Her admiration evident in her voice

But before you could fully revel in the moment, your intimate bubble was abruptly burst by a loud knock on the door of the conference room. Both you and Wanda shot up, eyes wide with panic rising in you.

“Miss L/N, are you still in there? I need to vacuum before I head out for the night.” You immediately recognized the voice as the company's janitor Micheal—the one who had triggered the events of the night by letting Wanda into the building.

“Yes, Michael! I'll be out in a second!" Your voice came out slightly higher than normal as you swiftly pushed Wanda away, hastily pulling your skirt back down to your knees and frantically searching for your discarded top. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, trying to regain your composure as the interruption jolted you back to reality.

Wanda, seemingly amused by your frazzled state, observed you with a playful glint in her eye. You felt a rush of vulnerability as you ran around the room, both arms instinctively covering your chest to shield yourself from Wanda's piercing gaze.

As you searched for your top, she reached for the silk blouse that had been resting on the head of a swivel chair and offered it to you. You reached out to take it, but just as your fingers brushed against the fabric, Wanda pulled her arm back, causing you to stumble and fall into her embrace. She held you close, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. In the closeness of the moment, her words rang in your ears, reminding you of the business proposal she had made earlier.

"I want you to consider my offer, y/n," she whispered softly, her breath tickling your ear. "I meant what I said before. I truly believe we could achieve great things together."

The wave of embarrassment mixed with the excitement of the moment as you tried to cover up your exposed front from Wanda's lingering gaze. “I will. But can we please discuss this later?”

Wanda gave you a satisfied grin, handing you your shirt before stepping away to give you some privacy. As you swiftly turned around, you threw your shirt over your shoulders to cover the exposed skin of your back, and your fingers worked to fasten the buttons of your blouse. She observed you for a moment, taking in the sight of you as you composed yourself.

Deciding to take her leave, Wanda's heels clacked against the floor as she headed towards the exit of the conference room. However, with your back turned, you didn't notice her discreetly slipping a little red folder under her arm.

Unbeknownst to you, that folder contained the new timeline for the AI release, a pivotal piece of information that could shape the future of your company. In the midst of the intimate encounter, Wanda had managed to seize an opportunity to further her goals, using the moment to her advantage.

As she made her exit, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes, knowing that she had just played her cards strategically. The rivalry between your companies still burned fiercely, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. With the information concealed in that little red folder, Wanda was one step closer to gaining an edge in the competitive race.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #fanfic #elizabeth olsen

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months

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Office Romance: Part Two

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: smut, fingering

Summary: Work is so much more fun when you're sneaking around with your boss.

PART ONE

Squares Filled: clothing: lace (2021) for @mcukinkbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Should you be doing this? If anyone catches you, then you and Natasha could lose your jobs. She is very good at what she does and has often stated how much she loves it, so are you willing to risk all of that just because you have a major crush on her? Based on what happened in the elevator, it’s safe to assume she likes you too, otherwise, why would she stick her tongue down your throat?

Are you really going to do this? She asked you to come into work early today but you know it’s not going to be for work. Who knows what’s going to happen when you walk into her office, but are you prepared to deal with the consequences? Fuck it. If you’re going to do this, then you may as well do it properly.

You set your things by your desk and notice a light underneath Natasha’s office door. The rest of the office is dark since no one else is in so it’s just you and her. Her blinds are closed so the only indication that she’s in her office is the light underneath her door. You grab your makeup pouch and make sure you look presentable while fixing your shirt. You loosen two buttons to make your breasts pop, and you fix your hair to give it more volume.

Once ready, you walk over to her office and knock twice on the door.

“Come in,” she says.

You open her door and frown when you don’t see her at her desk. She is by the filing cabinets with her ass sticking out. She is bent over so she can put some files away in the bottom drawer. Motherfucker did this to you on purpose. Her skirt is already short enough so you’re able to see the lace underwear she is wearing just slightly peeking out.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“Close the door.”

You do as you’re told and she straightens up before facing you. Her shirt also has the first few buttons undone so her breasts pop. Everything about this woman gets you going, it’s pathetic. Never has another woman made you feel things than this woman has, and she’s only kissed you. You’ve gotten home runs with other women but none of them compare to her.

“Thank you for coming in. Please, have a seat,” she gestures to the chairs on the other side of her desk.

You walk to the desk but you don’t sit down like she wants you to. You lean against the desk just in case you need to make a quick escape. It’s not like you want to, but you’d like the option just in case.

“How do you like my skirt? I got it yesterday,” she smirks.

“Yeah, it looks really good,” you nod nervously.

Natasha walks closer to you which makes your heart beat faster. She reaches out and touches the ends of your hair gently.

“Do I make you nervous?” You can only nod. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You do want this, don’t you?” Of course, you do. You’ve wanted this since the first week you’ve started working here. Still, you can only nod in response. “Use your big girl words.”

Your mouth goes dry at her dominance.

“Yes, I want this.”

“I know exactly how to make you relax.”

She pins you to the desk and leans in to press her lips to your neck. She skips being gentle and starts nibbling on your skin with her bright red lips. She pulls the skin into her mouth as she sucks while running her hands down your freshly pressed dress. She grabs your hips and lifts you to sit on top of her desk. You tip your head back and moan quietly from the feeling of her on you.

“Relax,” she whispers into your ear.

She moves her lips to yours and kisses you passionately. You’re too distracted by her lips that you don’t feel her hands roam underneath your dress. She dips her hand between your legs and easily finds your clit which is throbbing with need. You gasp and try to pull back from her but she chases you to keep you at her mercy. Her thumb rubs your clit in hard fast circles, causing you to moan her name.

“Do you like this?”

“Yes, please… More.”

She pulls your panties to the side and runs two fingers up and down your slit, spreading as much wetness as she caner you..

“Already so wet for me.”

She kisses you again just as she slides her middle finger into your pussy. You grip the sides of the desk tightly and she smirks knowing how to make you break. She slides her index finger inside you alongside her other fingers before placing her thumb on your clit. That’s when you break and grab her hair tightly. You yank her head back gently and kiss her forcefully as if you have all the control here.

“Fuck, Natasha!” you gasp against her lips.

“You want to come?”

“Yes.”

“Say please,” she smirks.

“Fuck,” you gasp, “please!”

“Come for me, sweetheart.”

She curls her fingers and rubs the spot that kicks you over the edge. You tighten your legs around her hand as you spill over her fingers. She keeps them inside you to let you ride out your high before she pulls them out. She immediately puts her fingers in her mouth to taste you.

“How do I taste?” you ask.

“Fuck, so good.” She sinks to her knees to clean up your mess when you see the lights turn on in the office. People are just starting to come in which means your activities must come to an end. She chuckles and uses your knees to help her get up. “I guess we’ll have to finish this some other time.”

She walks over to her window to open it to filter the room with fresh air. Her hair is still in perfect place despite you yanking on it, her makeup isn’t ruined despite you two making out, and she looks like nothing happened to her. You, on the other hand, look and feel like a mess. Your hair must be tangled, your makeup is smudging, and your clothes are a bit wrinkled. How does she look this good afterward?

You quickly smooth down your hair and use the mirror in her office to fix your makeup. She grabs some files from her desk and hands them over to you.

“These files need to be digitized, please.”

“Sure,” you whisper.

She walks over to her desk and sits down as if she didn’t finger fuck you five minutes ago. You awkwardly walk out of her office and back to your desk. You’re not sure what to make of this because you’re still so turned on. You’d want nothing more than to go back into her office and take her but you have to be professional.

Wanda comes in and pauses next to your desk. You look fine but you know she has a keen sense of knowing when something is up with you. You’re so distracted by the feel of her lips on you and her fingers in you that you don’t feel Wanda bend down next to you.

“First your makeup, now this? You could have at least sprayed some perfume. You reek of sex.”

“Wanda!” you gasp and hit her arm.

She laughs and takes a seat at her desk which is across from you. Taking her words into consideration, you grab some perfume from your bag and spray it a few times on yourself.

“What would you do without me?”

“I don’t know,” you chuckle.

“So, how was it?” You shake your head because you don’t want to talk about the way you fucked your boss in front of your coworkers. Wanda looks at Natasha’s office and smirks. “Don’t look now but boss lady is watching you.”

You don’t have to look at her to feel her eyes on you. You straighten your back and smirk knowing you have her attention on you. This is going to make work a lot more interesting.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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jungkook97 · 5 months

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and if you let me;; jjk

pairing: non idol!coworker jungkook x reader

word count: 1.9k

rating: teens & up!

genre: romance & fluff, cheesy confession, jungkook is a nervous guy in luv, also is silly, dorky, sweet, etc. (all the adjectives!)

summary: it was your last day at work and jungkook, who has a big fat crush on you, throws a going away party before you go.

notes: there's hardly any plot lmao it's just a hit of dopamine/feels i guess HAHAHAH :) i love him so much and my feelings are at an all-time high with the new gcf that came out!!

this is for nei (@melancholy-of-nadia)!!! luv u!!

Jungkook was annoyed. Very annoyed.

As you howled in laughter at Hoseok’s antics, Jeon Jungkook was in his little corner, crossing his arms and shaking his head.

It wasn’t that he was jealous. In fact, Jungkook was pretty confident and had somewhat normal self-esteem levels, but he felt like he was running out of time.

Running out of time for what, you ask? Confessing his love to you.

It was an open secret on the office floor that Jungkook had the biggest and loudest crush on you, making it real clear to all the guys in the office that you were the love of his life (on the clock, anyway). He liked people who were great at their jobs, and you were, to say the least, great at it. As your new boss and your guys’ boss fought for dominance to get you as an employee, it was clear that you were irreplaceable in the workplace, and that somehow made you even sexier to Jungkook.

At first, it was all a physical thing. You were a looker with brains and a dry humor that Jungkook appreciated in a workplace filled with kiss-assers. It was easy to flirt with you, and it seemed like you were 110% flirting back, which, a few months down the road, got Jungkook to freak out.

Surely, it was one thing to flirt with coworkers nonchalantly and another to deliberately be a boy loser about it. He was down bad at the 3-month mark and found himself counting the days when you would return to your cubicle, which conveniently was next to his.

Every day, he swung by your desk trying to be smooth, only to trip up somehow. Whether it be the intonation of his voice or him tripping over his own feet, he would kick himself silly mentally before lamenting to his best friend and work confidant, Kim Namjoon at the water cooler hours later.

“I swear I cannot walk around her!” Jungkook would sigh loudly, swirling his coffee stirrer as Namjoon chuckled, leaning against the counter before patting his coworker on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, dude. I’m sure she doesn’t even notice it like you do,” Namjoon would reassure him even though he knew you would eventually find out (you would of course, but unaware how deep Jungkook’s love for you was).

A year would swing by until you finally broke the news to the office that you would be leaving for another job with higher pay, and it felt like Jungkook’s world came crashing down. How could he continue working at this job if you weren’t next to him, giggling at his stupid jokes and his stupid short haircut that he specifically cut to make himself look even hotter for you? How could he possibly get through several rounds of meetings if you two weren’t playing tic-tac-toe on the memo pad the two of you would share? Or the times when Jungkook would go out of his way to the coffee shop to get your usual honey oatmilk latte from Urth Caffé? Or the time Jungkook would time his lunches so he could sit with you for the whole hour?

And so, Jungkook devised a plan to break the “news” that he was in love with you, hoping that you would feel the same way. He orchestrated the going away party first, going to a KBBQ spot with your closest coworkers before doing karaoke with drinks. Because how else was Jungkook going to relax around you?

Jungkook could feel his heart thumping wildly in his chest as you giggled at his innocent joke about Hoseok’s dance moves as your delicate head leaned against his wide shoulders. His stomach lurched forward as he coughed to cover his nervousness up, pouring yet another glass of soju for the two of you. You gladly took it, clinking the glass against his before taking a swig, and swallowing the alcoholic contents as you clung into Jungkook for the next hour.

Jungkook was elated of course, but he didn’t wanna give much away, closing his lips together as he thumped his fingers against the table, encouraging your former coworkers to drink more.

An hour passed and you were blasted, still hollering and hooting for the dancers, Hoseok and Jimin, to continue as karaoke night came at a fever pitch. At this point, you and Jungkook were inseparable, and he has made major moves to the level of your comfort: 1) putting his arm behind you and 2) crossing his legs so he could tap his feet against yours.

As you hummed quietly to yourself, you shivered at the cold air coming through the AC. Jungkook saw and immediately grabbed his leather jacket, putting it around you.

You thanked him, leaning against his chest as the two of you cuddled. Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat as he flushed red, again covering his flustered self with a cough.

“Are you getting sick?” you inquired, looking up at Jungkook with a pout. His eyes twinkled at this point as you cutely and drunkenly put your hand up to his forehead, trying to feel his temperature. It was going up all right, and Jungkook turned even redder than the tomatoes in the ramyeon in front of you two.

“Uh,” was all Jungkook could say, stuttering his way into a lame excuse. “The ramyeon is a bit too spicy that’s all, haha.”

He did his best to chuckle sexily as you sighed, frowning.

“Should I have asked for it to be mild?” you inquired, grabbing the menu from the table. “If I had known you didn’t like spice, I would’ve ordered it.”

“Oh no, i-it’s okay!” Jungkook hastily replied, putting the menu down. He was freaking out, and a few of the boys were starting to notice the two of you being rather cozy.

“Man, I have never seen Jungkook look so happy in my entire life,” Taehyung teased, snorting into his beer and pointing at the both of you.

Jungkook frowned, still beet red.

“W-what are you talking about?!” he fired back at Taehyung. All the second youngest in the office did was shrugged, smirking.

“Oh, now you’re playing stupid,” Taehyung drunkenly laughed, leaning against you as he whispered something in your ear.

Jungkook’s stomach bubbled in nervousness while Taehyung chuckled after saying his piece which made you giggle a bit.

“Yeah, he can be obtuse sometimes,” you replied, glancing back at Jungkook. He flushed again, his stomach in knots. Did you know? Were you playing with him?

As the night progressed, you began acting more and more wild, making Jungkook laugh uproariously at your behavior. Seeing you loose made him happy and glad that he planned the goodbye party in the first place. He clapped and cheered for you as you attempted badly to sing Whitney Houston’s “I’ll Always Love You”. Even if you were off-key, he still found it endearing that you even attempted.

Your unabashed confidence was shining through, and something ignited within Jungkook. It was then when he realized how much he liked you and seeing this side of you made him want you even more. The desire to be even closer than you two already were, and the desire to be intimate was growing inside Jungkook’s already big and kind heart, and he wanted to do something more.

It wasn’t too late when everyone began to go home, leaving the two of you alone. You had Uber’d your way to the noraebang so Jungkook offered naturally to take you home after sobering up.

As the two of you walked to the car, you instinctively but a bit impulsively wrapped your arm around his. His stomach lurched forward as his heart beat unbelievably fast, making him cough out of nervousness.

“You okay?” you asked worryingly, slurring a bit of your words. Jungkook was a bit concerned for you as he gripped your arm tighter around his bicep, leaning against you.

“I am,” he hummed lightly, opening his Mercedes GT door for you before guiding you in. “Are you okay though? You had a lot to drink.”

He strapped you in with the seatbelt as you smiled warmly. At this point, you two were really close to each other, feeling each other’s warm breaths as Jungkook’s big eyes stared into yours. He lamented quietly that you weren’t entirely there, wishing you were entirely sober so he could just kiss you right then and there. Your red warm lips were calling to him, and he wanted to kiss you so fucking bad, but only if you let him.

God, you’re so beautiful right now, he thought.

“What?” you laughed softly as he snapped out of it.

“N-nothing.”

Clearing his throat for the 1529458th time, he pulled away from your warmth and back into the winter air. Sliding his hands together to keep warm, he sprinted to the driver’s side of the car, sliding in before turning the engine on. The hot air swirled through the cabin as he turned the lights on and navigation took you home.

Not much was said during the ride to your house. Surely, he didn’t want to interrupt you slowly dozing off, mumbling to yourself as your hand laid on the center console. Jungkook’s hand was firmly on the shift gear but it achingly wanted to be there as well, holding your hand. He wanted to warm you up so badly, just like how he did it all night with you.

There must have been real chemistry between you two up until this point, Jungkook thought. There was no way all of this was platonic or you had been leading him on. All the flirty exchanges you two had for the past year started replaying in Jungkook’s mind like a broken video tape, replaying over and over until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He had to tell you. He had to confess.

As the car came to a stop and turned off, he went over to your side to open the door again. You woke up to the brisk cold air hitting your face as you were startled awake. Jungkook’s dark silhouette encapsulated you as you pulled out of the car, only to slip from the ice below and into Jungkook’s arms.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed as he caught you immediately into his embrace. His firm, yet warm body was pressed up against your own as you giggled drunkenly, trying to maintain your balance. “God, I’m just all over you tonight huh, Jeon?”

You could feel his heavy breaths on you as you looked up. He was already staring down at you with a soft smile, his cheeks pink.

You wondered if he was going to keep hiding it from you. You knew for quite some time that Jungkook liked you a bit too much, and even in your drunken state, you wanted to tell him it was okay to lean in for a kiss. You liked him too, and you wanted him to be yours.

Under the dim streetlight, he ever so slowly leaned in, closing the gap between you two. His eyes were pensive, thinking a bit too hard on this, but you had already made up your mind.

Kiss me, Jungkook.

“If you let me,” he whispered right before your lips touched his.

You pulled him in, kissing him. His eyes closed immediately as he took control, squeezing you tightly as you two softly kissed each other, keeping warm.

Snow was falling lightly on the both of you as your lips slowly made a grin when the two of you parted.

“Always, Jungkook.”

#jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #writing #mine #I WAS INSPIRED BY THE GCF LEAVE ME ALONE #short and sweet like jungkook's haircut in the gcf <3 #oh i'm in love with the man so bad it's not even funny :/#i barely edited this so hfdklshg;hg #kissing jungkook in the snow o my god i'm so romantic

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 7 months

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Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husand x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader

Hold your horses, we're going to wattpad territory here.

I went back to reading the cliche runaway wife or stranger with them being pregnant from their one night stand with a CEO and I must say, it's making me really nostalgic.

As a small gift for myself, I'm using the name of my CEO protagonist on the novel I wrote, and his background... Actually, the whole story for this one will be just my novel's. Self plagiarism, if you will lol. There are quite the big alterations, but that's for me to know, and for you to skim over.

So, let's unlock a hidden memory especially for previous wattpad girlies, shall we?

Pause though, this is my 3rd pregnancy fic. I hate myself.

Yandere! CEO name: Iñigo Dragonov

"Father, I seriously do not need your input in my marriage!"

"You will marry the Smith's daughter and that's final!"

"But why?! I'm content with living by myself and flourishing the company! I do not need a wife!"

"How about a husband then?"

"No wives, no husbands, no spouses!"

Allastor frowned. He knew that his son is not one for romance, but he dated a handful of people, also slept around sometimes. But for the sake of his son, who is workaholic to the point he's forgetting about his health, he needs someone who would be there for him.

"Son, if you don't marry the Smith's daughter, i'm afraid I have to get back the company."

Iñigo clenched his teeth. His jaw ticking as he looked at his father with wide, feral eyes.

"You won't do that. You already gave the company to me!"

"Yes, but I will take the company back. And you know I can pull strings like no other."

That's how Iñigo married you, the Smith's daughter.

Dragonov group of Companies. Just the name itself sent shivers down the spines of aspiring and even well off businesses. They're ruthless, and dominated almost every possible market. Textile, food industry, hotels, even schools. Name it, and they'll have it.

So, with the Smith Corp being the leading company in the Fashion industry, and the Dragonov looking to integrate themselves in Fashion and not just textile, Allastor decided to have this arrangement. It's like killing two birds with one stone.

Inigo Dragonov. The perfect man and the perfect bachelor. Rich, handsome, reliable, he's someone who's a bonafide genius when it comes to business. Almost his every investment have such huge profits, and never a lost.

So why was he so adamant about marrying when it's a good strategy in order to get into fashion?

He has always thought of marriage as something so restraining. Something that weighs such a workaholic like him down. He never even thought of marrying unless his father and mother mentions it.

So when his eyes laid on you, he sneered in his heart.

He doesn't want you at all.

He's always finding faults in you.

"Why do you look so frumpy? I thought your company focuses on fashion?"

"Stand up straight. Your slouching is unsightly."

"Will you get out of my sight? Don't you have any work to do? Don't be lazy."

His words never, ever dripped of affection, only vile words of nitpicking came out.

You were tired of it. Sick and tired.

Yet you did your best to always serve your husband in all aspects. Affection, taking care of him, even intimacy. After all, he's still the one to put food on your plate. Not just any food also, but luxurious ones.

But the empty feeling on your heart persisted. You don't want this at all.

So with a heavy heart, you decided to divorce him.

As you predicted, he didn't care. He signed it, and you left the chateau.

But as Iñigo relished in the fact that he's now a single man once more and can focus on his work, you knew something he didn't.

You touched your womb.

"I'm going to take care of you myself, baby." You whispered to the unborn child on your stomach.

Iñigo clocked out of his office and sighed, feeling the tiredness cloak his body.

He felt empty. Really empty.

At first, he felt such a deep satisfaction that he can finish the job easier without you around.

Every time he comes home, nobody will pester him to eat, to take care of himself.

Nobody nosey to ask him about his day, nobody to annoy him by kissing him on the cheek...

Something invisible gripped his heart as he groaned and took off his suit jacket.

"Tedious."

He slowly walked towards the dining room and sat down at the head of the table. He started eating his dinner, feeling the emptiness reside the giant mansion.

Was his chateau always this big?

He looked over to the seat to his left where you usually sat down.

He can see the faint image of you in his memories, talking about your day and job, that he painfully ignored.

He remembered how your lips would always twitch as it fought back a frown from his lack of response.

He would watch you go silent and finish your meal quickly, before waiting for him to finish so that you could bring the plates back to the kitchen.

He would remember your tired sighs and fervent glances at him.

He went upstairs, wanting to take a shower.

The room you shared with him was now devoid of your personal touch, just leaving with a dark and modern aesthetic that looked like it was from a display in a furniture shop. It was professional, too professional.

He looked over where your vanity was once was. Now there's just an armchair and a lamp that he never really used.

He got to the bathroom and what was once filled with your bathroom essentials. Now, it was just his shampoo, conditioner, toothbrush and paste, and other basic needs tucked away.

And as he went under the shower, tears started to leak from his eyes, regret gnawing at his heart.

He never realized how much he loved you.

He never realized that the reason why he was so critical of you was that he was trying to distance himself from you.

He never realized that your presence was a constant peace in his fast paced life, and that you were a part of his routine.

And now that you're gone...

He gripped his wrist, a bruise forming.

And that was his daily routine a year after your divorce.

And now, two years later, he was still the same.

On the outside, he looked fine and dandy, but deep inside, he's only a broken husk of a man that he never dared to repair.

He thinks he deserved this as punishment.

But then, in those years, he felt that he needed you to come back.

Yes, he's punishing himself, but he needed you still.

He misses your touch,

Your warmth,

Your care.

Your... Love?

Did you love him?

Or is it out of responsibly?

Bah, he doesn't care.

He loves you, and that was enough.

A knock came from the door and his CFO, and his best friend, Oliver, got inside.

"Here you have it. This week's report of activities of Miss Smith--"

"Mrs. Dragonov."

Oliver sighed.

"yes, Mrs. Dragonov, this is the week's report of Mrs. Dragonov."

Iñigo nodded in satisfaction and waved Oliver goodbye.

He opened the enveloped and his eyes widened. You were back from New Zealand. This was great news! He could talk to you. Maybe coax you into coming back.

Iñigo grabbed his key and opened a door at the back of his office and smiled at the inside. Inside was a perfect replica of your old office when you were still married to him. The only difference is that wall to wall was plastered of your face, taken by his private investigators. On the vanity, which was once in his room, have a picture of you, and your twins with him.

He smirked lazily, sitting down on the chair as he kissed your face on the picture frame.

His stormy dark eyes were bent a bit, his gaze filled with so much longing and regret.

"I'll take back what's mine." He whispered.

"and I'll do everything and use everything at my disposal to get you back." Iñigo declared, looking at his children.

"And I mean everything."

"We need to do this."

"Tsk. Why would I? I'm perfectly capable of myself."

"We both can't deny the fact that they need me. You need me."

".... Okay."

" But in one condition."

"What is it?"

"You need to marry me."

You blinked, not getting this absurd situation at all. Marriage again? But why?

Seeing your confused face, Iñigo grabbed your hand gently and squeezed them.

"Sweetheart, you don't want our children to grow up ridiculed, right? What would the people say if they saw our children with no father?" Iñigo started to whisper, coaxing you into seeing his perspective. "I am willing to provide the support you need."

You shook your head.

"But I can provide that myself. I am rich also, so that support means nothing."

Iñigo gritted his teeth and held you tightly once more.

"What will an incomplete family do to our children? Won't they question my absence? Besides, a father is a crucial role one must be filled no matter what. And I'm fully intending to be present at all." He coaxed you, whispering words of promises he wants to fulfil. "There are studies out there that an incomplete family slows down children's development."

He continued to try and let you see his perspective.

"With my influence, nobody can touch you and the children. I promise, I won't be an asshole again and ridicule you. I am so sorry for saying those things." Iñigo whispered as tears filled his eyes. "I regretted all of those. Every single day since you left, I felt like a husk, I know something was wrong, and that I was that something. I hurt someone so precious to me."

Why would he need to dirty his hands when his words and acting skills were enough to persuade you?

Iñigo knelt down, hugging your waist, begging, groveling for you to come back.

And when he saw your resolve crack in front of him, he hid his smirk as he continued to sob in front of you.

His words were working.

Besides, he knows the children were your soft spot.

He was thankful for the existence of your children. If not, he'll probably resort to... Extreme ways just to get you back.

Maybe like, making your company bankrupt with him the only lifeline left.

But now, he held your waist tightly, listening to your words as you gave up trying to fight his logic.

You were his.

And you will continue to be his,

Until death do you part.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere drabbles #lizzaneiaelizalde

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 8 months

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 3

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!Reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 / PART 2

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Oral (w receiving) hand job (m receiving). Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 6K

Author Note: Sorry it's taken me long to update we've had a death in the family and it's been a lot to deal with. Writing was the last thing on my mind at the moment. I'm just putting part 3 out there but once things are settled I'll write part 4. I'd like to think there'll be more parts than 4 because the story is now starting to pick up. But it depends on how well this part does. 🧡❤️🧡

Also, I changed part 2 slightly so it may be worth re-reading before reading part 3. 🧡

For those who asked to be tagged. Thank you so much for reading and sticking with the story. Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Curled up on the sofa beneath a cozy blanket, you slowly blinked open your eyes, adjusting to the room's muted glow. Rafe's voice, a deep murmur, sliced through the quiet ambiance. He was sitting on the edge of an armchair, his phone held to his ear while his other hand absentmindedly glided over his buzzcut.

"Why are they stalling?" his voice barely above a whisper was undeniably firm.

"And their counteroffer? No. Not for a piece of that size. They're well aware of its rarity, right? The clarity? They stand to gain at least 40% profit once it's resold. They know it. I know it. Ninety, and that's me being generous." His fingers stilled their exploration, and his thumb wandered down to his bottom lip, hinting at the storm just beneath the surface. "No, it's non-negotiable. Look, I'm trying to be nice here, alright? But if they keep fucking around with the number, they'll soon find out I’m not so accommodating after all. No more games. I'm done with their shit—Ninety. Final offer."

Your heart pounded, every beat magnifying the gravity of Rafe's words. This was clearly far more than just ninety dollars; it hinted at an intricate web of dealings far beyond your understanding. While whispers of his dubious associations had always floated around town, hearing Rafe speak with such authority was jarring. The sheer force he wielded and the unmistakable power resonating in every syllable revealed that he wasn't just a small player in whatever this game was. He was at its very epicenter, a dominant force controlling the strings. And as this realization washed over you, a sinking sensation set in: you barely knew him at all.

"Now, about that other forty. I want it. Today." He let the words hang for a moment, his tone colder "You keeping office hours now? What the fuck do you mean 'after six'?" His voice tightened with irritation. "Nah, I don't want to hear that shit." he spat. "It's either you have it or you don't, and you should have it since you had one job yesterday; to collect."

Despite trying to stay unnoticed, your numbing arm forced you to shift slightly on the couch, catching Rafe's discerning eye. Rafe's penetrating gaze bore into you, suspending the world in a split second. Amidst the pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows, the weight of the silence pressed in until Rafe finally looked away. "I'll be there in an hour," he murmured, his voice suddenly calmer. "I have some things to take care of first."

As he disconnected the call, you swallowed.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your voice trembled as you propped yourself up on an elbow.

Rafe approached, confidence exuding with each step. "Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about," he reassured, leaning in for a gentle kiss on your lips.

"How long was I out?"

"About an hour, give or take," Rafe responded, his thumb brushed away a stray eyelash from your cheek. The simple, tender gesture contrasted starkly with the side of him you had just heard on the phone.

You hesitated, your curiosity getting the better of you. "Did you manage to get much done while I was asleep?" Hoping for some insight into his earlier phone conversation.

Rafe's smirk held many layers. "Yeah, handled some business, made a few calls, and I might've watched you a little...."

"Watched me? You mean you just sat there and watched me sleep?"

He moved closer, his warm breath brushing against your skin. "Not often do I see you so… relaxed around me. So yeah, I indulged a little." He murmured, pressing his lips to your cheek. "Besides, I like knowing I can make you feel good. Make you cum til you pass out. It’s up there with watching you squirt,” he grinned.

The change in topic, from shady dealings to fevered intimacy, was a dizzying experience, and you found yourself taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Listen," he suddenly said, leaning back to look you in the eye. “I have some business I need to wrap up. I could also do with a shower and a change of clothes." His gaze slipped down to his attire; he had changed back into his shirt, now less damp but very wrinkled. “What's your plan for dinner?

"Dinner?" You tried to keep up, the rapid change in topics leaving your thoughts scrambled. “Uh... Leftovers, I guess.”

“Wanna come over? Eat at mine instead?”

The invitation caught you off guard. The unexpectedness of it made you feel like you were navigating through a dense fog, with every step bringing a new, unanticipated revelation. But you nodded, despite the uncertainty coiling within.

Rafe's expression softened, picking up on your hesitation. He leaned in, his lips brushed against your ear. “You do know what this means, right? You'll have to deal with my company a bit longer. Think you can handle that without making a run for it?"

You tried to muster a playful retort, but his lips captured yours before you could speak, a deep, overwhelming kiss that made you weak.

Pulling back, he smiled, "I'll pick you up around six, yeah?"

“Okay.” Your voice was but a whisper.

As he moved toward the exit, the shadow of his phone call loomed over your thoughts. Only when you heard his truck roar to life did you finally exhale, sinking deeper into the sofa. Your mind was a whirl with questions you didn't know how to begin to ask, let alone answer.

By the time the clock struck 6, you were already fresh from a shower and dressed in jeans paired with a simple white vest top and an oversized cardigan. Right on cue, the low hum of Rafe's truck resonated outside, its headlights casting a gentle glow on your porch. After ensuring you had your phone and keys, you gave yourself a quick glance in the mirror and then headed out to meet him.

Suave as ever, Rafe leaned across his truck to push the door open for you. Offering his hand for support, he helped you up into the seat. A warm smile naturally bloomed on your face, and with a soft "Hey," you acknowledged his chivalry.

"Hey," he echoed, the familiar gravelly timbre warm and inviting. Without another word, he leaned in, capturing your lips with a kiss. As you pulled away for a breath, your gaze wandered over him, taking in every detail. He smelt amazing, something rich and woodsy, while the crisp black shirt and jeans he wore accentuated his toned physique. It gave him that distinct, effortless style he carried so naturally — the very essence of a kook.

As you settled beside him, a wave of self-consciousness washed over you. It wasn't a lack of confidence in your appearance—Rafe had always been vocal about how beautiful he found you. He had a candid manner of complimenting, and today's earlier affectionate proclamations were just another testament to his feelings. Yet, a nagging voice inside you questioned why someone as polished and affluent as Rafe would be into someone like you when he could easily have anyone from his own elite circle.

As the journey began, the ambiance in the truck was tranquil, but underlined by a tension you couldn't ignore. Rafe seemed to be miles away, his eyes barely leaving the road ahead and memories of his earlier phone conversation played on repeat in your head. Could his aloofness be about the business deal you overheard? Did something go wrong? The only breaks in the silence were his occasional clearing of his throat or sniff, causing you to swallow hard and stare out of your passenger window to calm your nerves.

When you exited the vehicle at Tannyhill a rush of nostalgia hit, interwoven with memories that weren’t as endearing. It was weird being there now for pleasure rather than work and at the behest of Rafe not Rose. Possibly sensing your hesitation, Rafe gently grasped your hand, leading you toward the entrance. As he swung the front door open, an overwhelming quiet enveloped the surroundings.

"Is Rose and Mr. C around?" you asked, noting the dimly illuminated hallway that stretched toward the kitchen and beyond.

"Nah, they're in the Bahamas. Business trip. They'll be there for a while." Rafe replied, his voice echoing in the quiet expanse of the house.

"What about Wheezie?"

"She's with them.”

"And Sarah?"

Rafe's face twitched slightly. "Don't know, don't care. Haven't seen her in, what, three weeks? She could be in a ditch for all I care—" His gaze met yours, "I'm kidding," he smiled. Yet, a flicker of something shadowy behind his eyes made you think otherwise.

"So, it's just the two of us tonight?" you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Rafe gave a nonchalant shrug, "Looks like it."

Entering the kitchen, your eyes flitted to the island, noticing several neatly stacked pizza boxes. "Planning a feast or what?"

His grin broadened, revealing the playful side you always adored. "Thought you'd be hungry after your day. Vegan, pepperoni, or drowned in cheese. Take your pick."

Laughing, you approached, your finger tracing the edge of the closest box. "Always one step ahead, aren't you?"

Rafe pulled you closer, warmth radiating from him. "Well, yeah. Gotta keep my girl happy and fed,” his voice husky as he leaned in for a kiss.

After devouring slice after slice and transitioning from the kitchen to the cozy ambiance of the living room, you and Rafe settled in, surrounded by plush cushions and the soft glow of the floor lamps. As conversations ebbed and flowed Rafe's gaze followed yours, landing on the Steinway.

"Do you want to play something?" Rafe asked lips curling into a small smile.

"Oh no you don't.” you said with a shake of your head. “I'm not falling for that, again.”

Rafe leaned in, his grin widening. "What do you mean?" he prodded, matching your playful tone.

"Every time I play, we end up..." You left the sentence hanging, heat creeping up your neck.

Rafe leaned in closer, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "We end up doing what?" he asked with faux innocence.

You gave him a knowing look, your eyes saying everything that words didn't need to. Really, Rafe?

"I like when you play." he said slowly with a shrug.

"I know you do... a little too much," you replied, your voice laced with humor and a touch of fond exasperation.

“Alright, don’t play.” He said with a sly smile as he patted the space beside him on the sofa. You found yourself irresistibly drawn to him, nestling close, the comfort of his warmth enveloping you.

Lost in a dance of gentle touches and lingering glances, Rafe pulled you closer. With each soft, deliberate kiss, the world outside faded away. His fingers toyed with the collar of your cardigan, his middle finger hooking the fabric, gently sliding it off your shoulder, as he peppered your skin with slow soft kisses.

"I think... yeah, this is the least clothing I've seen you in, not including earlier today," he murmured against your skin. "I like it. I like being able to have access to you."

As he spoke, his fingers ventured under the back of your vest, soft digits skimming upwards past your bra strap to your neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His affectionate kisses stirred a profound desire within you, compelling you to cradle his face and initiate a fevered kiss of your own, a blend of lips and intertwining tongues.

"Stay," he murmured, his words a gentle plea brushing against the corner of your lips. "Stay with me," he whispered, his eyes locking onto yours.

"Tonight?" you questioned quietly, a hint of uncertainty tinging your voice.

"Tonight, tomorrow, as long as you like," he shrugged, his tone revealing a deep yearning. His candidness took you aback, causing your heart to flutter.

"I have a class in the morning," you responded, your hesitation evident.

"Of course, you'd have class on a Saturday. Who takes a class on a Saturday?"

"It's for extra credit," you playfully huffed.

"I'm sure it is, you lil freak.” Rafe remarked with an amused smile as he bit down on your shoulder. You hissed in response to the sudden, sharp pain. He immediately soothed the area with his tongue, a slow and sensual gesture that had you pressing your thighs together.

"What time?" he murmured against your skin.

"Hm?" you managed to reply, your mind struggling to focus.

"What time is your class?" he repeated, his lips still dangerously close to your neck.

"Ten," you answered, regaining some semblance of coherence.

"Okay," Rafe said, his voice low and husky as he made plans. "I’ll drive you home, you grab your stuff, and then I'll take you to class…" His words trailed off as his lips grazed the soft skin of your neck once more. He paused, pulling back slightly to search your face, his gaze filled with understanding. "But it's not just about your class, is it?" There was a knowing look in his eyes, a hint that he comprehended some of your apprehension, even though it remained unspoken.

"Don't…" you began as you licked your lips. "Don't you think we might be moving a bit fast?" you whispered. The pace of things had taken a sharp turn; just yesterday, you were literally hiding from him, and today, not only had you let him finger you into a coma you now found yourself wrapped around him like a scarf, his hand exploring beneath your clothes like he owned you. It was only natural to worry that things were progressing way too rapidly, burning too brightly, and possibly destined to fizzle out just as quickly as it had started.

"Nah, I don't." Rafe drawled as his nose brushed against your shoulder, inhaling your scent. “If we were moving fast, I would have fucked you a long time ago.”

You jerked your head away, staring at him with wide eyes while Rafe smiled, clearly enjoying your worried expression.

"What?" you asked softly.

“Oh, yeah.” Rafe nodded, “In fact, I would have fucked you quite a few times by now, in every position I could think of.” he said nonchalantly. A deep chuckle escaped him as he relished your deer-in-the-headlights expression. “But I also get that all of this is new for you, so..." his fingers traced your jaw. "We’ll take it slow. Until I can't hold back any longer."

"Rafe!" you breathed, and he threw his head back with a hearty laugh.

"I'm kidding," he laughed, his eyes sweeping over your features like a tender caress. "I'm kidding."

"So if I stay over..." you began, shifting nervously in his embrace. "We’re not..."

"Nah, we won't," he assured, understanding your apprehension. “But I can't promise to keep my hands or mouth off of you. It’s only fair, right? After all the stress you’ve put me through.” He murmured.

“Stress! I give you stress-”

“So much fucking stress” You could feel the smile on his lips as he pressed them against your cheek, and you wondered if he could tell you were blushing. “Stay,” he said again, his tone resolute, treating it as the final word on the matter.

"Alright... I'll stay."

As the night wore on, the comforting cadence of your conversation intertwined with the weight of the day, gradually lulling you into a drowsy state. Feeling your eyelids grow heavy, Rafe kissed your temple softly. "Come on," he whispered, wrapping his fingers around yours and leading you up the winding stairs to his room.

Stepping into Rafe's bedroom for the first time, you were taken aback. The space was pristine, a stark contrast to the wild, chaotic tales of mayhem that accompanied him. Everything had its place, from the perfectly aligned books on his desk to the immaculately ironed shirts in his open closet.

Rummaging through his belongings for a brief moment, he emerged with an old jersey and a pair of shorts. "Here, try these” he suggested, handing them to you.

"In just one day, we've exchanged a lot of clothes” you said with a soft chuckle.

Rafe's eyes danced with mischief. "Well, if you want, I'm happy for us to ditch the clothes altogether."

Rolling your eyes playfully, you retorted, "Keep dreaming, Cameron."

His response was accompanied by a sly, teasing grin, "Oh, I already have." As he began to methodically unbutton his shirt, his captivating eyes held yours in a magnetic pull. Although you had already seen him shirtless. Tonight, the ambiance carried a different weight. There was an intimacy in the air that made your cheeks flush, causing you to divert your gaze to the wooden floor.

"I'll just… uh, freshen up before bed," you stammered, trying to find an escape from the mounting tension.

"Sure," he said, pointing towards a door on the side. "Bathroom's right there. There's a pack of toothbrush heads in the cabinet; help yourself."

"Thanks," you replied with a grateful smile, seizing the opportunity to step out just as the sound of his belt buckle being opened reached your ears.

In the dimly lit bathroom, you sank to the edge of the tub, your hand pressing hard into the porcelain, feeling its cold, smooth surface beneath your fingertips.

Sharing a bed with Rafe wasn’t just a simple act of two people sleeping side-by-side. It symbolized a budding intimacy, a fragile trust slowly unfurling between the two of you. And yet, the weight of his weird phone call pressed heavily on your chest. Could you really trust someone whose life seemed tangled in webs of secrets, lurking just beneath the surface? Could you willingly let yourself be drawn into his world, knowing full well it could be dangerous?

Biting your lip, you pushed those turbulent thoughts to the back of your mind, you changed into the clothes he had lent you and brushed your teeth. After a lingering glance in the mirror, searching for some kind of assurance, and taking a deep, steadying breath, you braced yourself for the night ahead and headed back to the bedroom.

Rafe was already cozied up in bed, the soft light from his phone casting a glow on his face. He had changed into a pyjama pants his chest bare.

"I haven't even left the room for two minutes and you're already sliding into some girl's DMs?" you teased.

As Rafe met your gaze, warmth filled his eyes as he admired your appearance, clearly liking the way you looked in his clothes. “The only DMs I'd ever slide into are yours, but I've already got the real thing." he casually remarked, his voice carrying a hint of affection.

You couldn't help but laugh, your nose scrunching up at his comment. "Damn, that's some next-level cheesiness. You're quite the cheeseball, you know that?" you teased.

A mischievous twinkle sparkled in his eyes. "Only 'cause you're a sucker for cheesy romantic gestures. That shit gets you wet." he replied with a small smirk.

Mouth agape you looked at him flabbergasted only for Rafe to downright smile his pearly white teeth on full display.

“Rafe! You really can't go five minutes without turning something sweet into something, just--" You playfully tossed a pillow at him which he caught. Pulling you to him Rafe planted a quick kiss to your lips before heading to the bathroom.

With Rafe momentarily out of sight, you took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The reality of sharing a bed with him was nerve-wracking. Sliding beneath the soft covers, you felt the smooth sheets against your skin, their coolness momentarily providing a reprieve from the weight of your racing thoughts.

The bed, although large and spacious, suddenly felt like a confining space. Each moment of hesitation, every heartbeat, every fleeting memory of your past interactions echoed loudly in the silence of the room. Sharing a bed with someone was always an intimate act, but with Rafe, the stakes felt higher. It was more than just physical proximity; it was about letting him into the vulnerable spaces you had never shared with anyone including your heart.

As you laid there in the soft glow of his side lamp, you tried to focus on the present. You reminded yourself that Rafe said you'll take it slow. Tonight was about simply connecting, not necessarily about taking a step further.

The bathroom door opened, and you saw Rafe's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the bedside lamp. He approached the bed, his movements careful, perhaps sensing your apprehension.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

You took a deep breath, "Yeah, just...thinking."

Rafe sat down beside you, his hand gently caressing your arm. "If you're not comfortable, we can figure something else out."

You shook your head, mustering a small smile. "No, it's not that. It's just as you said... It's all new. But I want to be here. With you."

Rafe leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Alright we'll take it one step at a time, yeah?"

With that assurance, you snuggled closer to him, feeling the warmth and security of his embrace. "One step at a time" you repeated softly.

As your eyes flutter open, the silhouette before you takes shape, dominating your field of vision. Gradually, your gaze adjusts, revealing the familiar features of Rafe as you shake off the remnants of a deep dream. The surroundings come into focus bit by bit. The early hour is apparent; it's so early that the outside remains cloaked in darkness, illuminated by a luminous full moon.

You had drifted to sleep cradled in Rafe's embrace but now he's beside you. His touch is a gentle caress, his thumb tracing the smooth curve of your jaw. He regards you openly, his gaze intense enough to cause warmth to spread across your skin, prompting you to look away. You wondered how long he had been staring at you... touching you...

"What time is it?" Your voice is a soft murmur, barely breaking the tranquility of the moment.

"Four thirty"

"Can't sleep?" you asked softly.

Rafe shook his head no. "Can't sleep, either huh?" he asked his words tender.

You manage a small smile, "I think I'm just not used to sleeping in someone else's bed."

Rafe nodded in understanding. "Maybe I can help with that, hmm? It worked pretty well last time.” Gently Rafe turned your face towards him and leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. Your heart flutters as his kiss lingers, his tongue delicately exploring yours.

Sheets thrown back, your jersey inches upwards, as Rafe moves on top of you, his lips creating a scorching trail down your neck and further south. Each feather-light kiss ignites a tingle, intensifying as his tongue meets your nipple. His lips move lower, soft kisses meet your sternum while his fingers brush the edge of your shorts and underwear, prompting your hands to instinctively stop him.

"We won't go all the way," he promises in a voice thick with longing while lust blown eyes stare up at you. “I just want a taste. One little taste. I deserve it, for being patient.” His lips linger around your navel, and you grant him a hesitant nod. Gently, he removed your shorts and underwear, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Despite your urge to shield yourself, Rafe, ever-so-gently, parts your legs, positioning himself in the intimate space between. His lips graze your hip, making your skin flutter. "Ever had a guy go down on you before?" His voice is an alluring mix of curiosity and yearning.

With a deep breath and a gentle shake of your head, you whispered “No”

Rafe smiles at your answer, his lips brushing your skin again. "So many firsts," he murmurs seductively.

His attention returns between your thighs, teasing and exploring, with soft kisses leading to your mound. His head drops lower and he slowly swipes his tongue over your clit. The sensation is a mix of ticklish delight and sinful pleasure prompting a soft gasp from your lips.

Rafe licks you slowly, teasingly, humming in approval with every wet swipe of his tongue. The swirl of his tongue between your folds begins to overwhelm you, and you try to pull away only for Rafe to firmly yank you back, his grasp keeping you anchored to him and your legs spread.

His tongue stops its gentle caressing and probes deeper, his lips nestling against your sex while his tongue hungrily delves within.

“Ooh—” you whimpered, tremors shooting throughout your body with each stroke of his tongue. His enthusiasm grows as he drinks in your reactions, his own moans blending with yours in a symphony of pleasure.

“Too much- too much- ah-” you squirm when his tongue began to flick at your clit.

Pulling away from your wet centre Rafe licked and sucked on your inner thigh. “No- you’re fine.” Rafe commanded, his determined gaze pinning you in place. “You’re fine. Just relax...”

He guides your hand to his buzzcut and as your fingers move hesitantly over his head, he returned to lapping skilfully at your pussy.

“Oh, my god, Rafe-" you whimper, your fingers scratching at his scalp as you buck underneath him.

Wrapping his arms around your legs, Rafe continued to lick your wet centre until you’re shuddering. He pulls his head back slightly. You could see his mouth shiny with your arousal, a smile curling his lips.

“Fuck, you taste sweet. Like honey.” his voice is like gravel, raw with pent desire. “Nah, sweeter than honey...” He muses. His fingers part your soaked pussy lips exposing your swollen clit and his tongue lovingly suckles it while his fingers tease around the entrance of your tight hole.

“Ohmygod, ohplease…"

"Yeah? This what you want? Want me to finger your sweet little cunt?” he chuckled teasingly.

"Please… please…” you beg, until finally he sinks his middle finger in you. You let out a cry as he slowly worked his finger back and forth within you, stoking your walls and coaxing your orgasm to the surface.

The feel of his tongue lashing at your clit, his finger twisting deliciously, along with the unrelenting focus of his gaze, hunger blazing in his eyes, has you moaning in abandon.

Your back involuntarily bows off the bed, a strangled cry leaving your lips as your fingers curled the back of his head.

It’s glorious when you cum.

A kaleidoscope of colour appears behind your closed eyes, created by the vibrations of Rafe groaning in approval and the succulent swirl of his lips and tongue.

Rafe removed his finger and his tongue quickly replaced it, delving deep into your creaming pussy. His nose pressed against your clit as he noisily slurped and lapped at you. The explicit, wet sounds of him devouring your pussy so raw and unashamed create a beautiful symphony that fills the room.

“Holy shit ha—“ you gasped with a smile. Sudden, swipes at your clit with his tongue had you oversensitive, your hips twitching with aftershocks.

Your eyes open, landing on Rafe still positioned between your thighs. With a tenderness that belies the moment's raw passion, he places soft wet kisses on your inner thighs, grounding you in the present. The weight of what has transpired gradually dawns on you – the unexpected progression from kissing to oral, something you hadn't anticipated, let alone think you'd enjoy as much as you did washes over you.

Before you can overthink, you lean in, initiating a passionate kiss, fueled by a desperate hunger intensified by the taste of yourself on his lips.

Rafe's fervor shows no signs of waning. He pushes you back against the pillows and then crawls over you, his desire unmistakable. Bracing himself near your head, he slowly lowers his pajama pants, causing your eyes to widen as you gaze downward.

He's big.

Big, long and thick.

Suddenly, his cockiness and confidence makes perfect sense. All that big dick energy. Naturally, you find yourself yearning to feel his raw power. Want to feel him thrusting inside you. Yet amidst this desire, a sudden thought emerges—a fear that you might not be able to handle all of him. You might not be able to please him fully when the time comes.

Rafe takes your hand in his, guiding it along his already weeping cock, and you feel him tense up and take a sharp breath as your fingers make contact. Encouraged by this reaction, your other hand wanders over his body, feeling the hardness of his abdomen. Both hands now explore him with curiosity and hesitation.

"Like this…" he murmurs. With his hand over your own, holding his cock, Rafe sets a pace which brings forth soft moans from his lips. He moves his hand away to watch you carry on without him, completely entranced by the sight before him.

Clear pearls of pre-cum bead at the tip as an indication of how turned on he is by your touch. Rafe leans in to kiss you passionately while taking your hand once again and leading it up to his sensitive tip.

“Right. Here," he breathes into your mouth as he tells you to focus there. Your fingers instinctively curl tightly around the mushroom tip, fisting it as you become more confident, eliciting groans from Rafe's lips.

His hand moves from your fingers, finding its way to your throat. It curls around your neck in a possessive grip, while his lips reconnect with yours. His moans escalate in intensity, his desire palpable, and his voice becomes choppy. 'Keep going... keep going... just like that, baby. Just like that..."

Closely following his gestures and facial expressions. Your gaze remains fixated on his captivating face, magnetized by the range of emotions playing across it — the awe knitting in his brows, the quickening pace of his breath, and the roped corded muscles of his neck as his body became rigid.

"Fuck....” He releases a long sigh, color creeping up his chest, throat, and cheeks. “Long strokes- long strokes…” He commands his voice cracking. You obey, your hand stroking his length from root to tip. Your fingers glide easily, lubricated by his pre-cum.

Rafe's eyes rolled to the back of his head as he muttered something inaudible, but soon they found yours again.

"I want to fuck you so bad. I’m tryin to be patient. I’m tryin, but god I want to fuck you… I need to fuck you...” His voice trailed off into a desperate whimper, deep from the very core of him. His hips swayed to the rhythm of your hand as he fucked into it, each thrust quickening in pace.

"How?" you find yourself whispering in awe, astounded by the shift in power between you. You've heard him bark orders, so full of confidence and dominance, yet here he was wrecked and vulnerable. You would be lying if you said you didn't relish your newfound power. "How would you do it, Rafe? How would you fuck me?"

Rafe stared into your eyes, cock twitching in your grasp.

"I want to watch you ride my dick... watch you scream while you squirt all over it..." His confession hangs heavy in the air as he bares all before you.

"What else, Rafe? What else do you want?" you whisper, your fingers gently circling your clit while your other hand worked his cock.

"I wanna fuck your mouth. Want to fill your soft, pretty mouth with my cum. Watch you swallow it." His fingers softly brush against your lips, his middle and index finger pressed at its entrance. Entranced, you twirl your tongue around his digits before greedily sucking them into your mouth. Rafe utters a throaty groan before removing his fingers, his lips crashing onto yours in a crude kiss.

"What else?" you moaned, rubbing your clit and stroking his cock faster.

"Want to fuck your ass," he whispered through gritted teeth. "Have you on all fours - make you fucking take it.”

"Oh god, Rafe-" you whimpered, eyes wide with shock. You’ve never had a guy talk about doing sexual things to you let alone anything so vulgar. And yet- you could feel your orgasm on the brink of flooding your senses just from his words.

“I want to fuck and fill every part of you and I know you’ll let me. I just know you will…” Rafe repeated softly, confidently, "Do you know why? Hm? Why you'll take whatever I choose to give you? Why you'll let me fuck you however I want?” He whispered his eyes boring into your own. “Because you're hungry for this just as much as I am. You want me. Just as much as I want you.”

His dark words sent you spiraling into a chaotic climax. Crying out in pleasure, waves of euphoria washed over you, causing your hips to involuntarily jerk and thrust up off the bed.

In harmony with your climax, Rafe reached his own. Droplets of his thick white cum painted your bare stomach and thighs. His body trembled with pleasure, his breathing stuttered, while his throbbing cock continued to pulse in your grasp.

His moans, raw and desperate, are tinged with a clear sense of relief. It's the relief that comes from finally having his pleasure reciprocated by you, even if only through the gentle touch of your hands, and the utter bliss that this brings.

Breathless Rafe collapses back against the pillows, his trembling hand found yours once more, and together you slowed the rhythm of your stroking, savoring the final drops of pleasure from his spent cock.

Exhausted but utterly content, Rafe closes his eyes for a moment. When they open again, his dilated blue pupils are fixated on you. He cracks a satisfied grin.

He doesn't take his gaze away as you observe your hand. It's covered in his cum, an indicator of his pent up desire for you. Without uttering a word, your hand moves towards your lips, and curiously, your tongue tentatively darts out, brushing against your fingertips.

The taste is unlike anything you've ever experienced before, earthy and slightly salty and yet uniquely him. You moan as your tongue continues its exploration, carefully cleaning each digit.

"Fuckkk..." Rafe groans before pulling you in for a desperate kiss.

The gentle morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating your face and the figure beside you in a soft, dappled glow. But the tranquility was abruptly interrupted by a glance at the time on your phone.

You were late.

Terribly late.

For someone who valued being on time, the day was already spiraling out of control. Scrambling into your jeans, you noticed Rafe stirring, his sleepy eyes meeting the clock, then your frenzied actions. Silently, with a steadiness you envied, he started dressing.

Your vest and cardigan from the previous night lay draped over a chair. Snatching them up, you slipped them on in a rush.

Rafe's offer to drive you to class was a godsend. Ten minutes later, freshened up and emerging from his bedroom, you expressed your gratitude with a beaming smile. As you walked past him, Rafe playfully swatted your butt, eyes twinkling with mischief. You let out a playful yelp, your laughter blending with his soft chuckle as you admonished him, promising to get him back later.

At your house, you grabbed your bag, textbook and notes in a flurry. You considered changing outfits but ditched the idea after another anxious glance at the time. It was only a two-hour class anyway and wasn’t worth the additional stress. As you darted to his truck, a realization hit – your dad was coming home today. Another night at Rafe's was certainly out of the question.

During the drive, you explained the situation to Rafe, expecting, perhaps even bracing for, a hint of disappointment. But instead, he simply nodded. Now, as the silence stretched between you, you were wrestling with the idea of revisiting the words he'd uttered last night. But decided it wasn't worth mentioning. They were merely fantasies after all—desperate things said in the heat of the moment, just to intensify the experience... Right?

As he pulled up in front of your building he leaned in to kiss you. You cut it short with an apologetic smile promising to call him later.

No sooner had you settled into your seat than your phone vibrated. It was a message from Rafe.

"Friend's having a party tomorrow night. Think your dad would be cool with it?"

A pause ensued as you deliberated, finally responding. "Should be. But I don't have anything to wear. Is it a bonfire type of thing?"

His reply was swift. "Don't worry about it. Shopping later. My treat."

A surge of conflicting emotions threatened to spill over as you absorbed his words, your fingers quivering slightly over the screen. "Rafe that's too generous. I can't."

But his resolution was clear even in text. "Why? You're with me. Right?"

You paused, chewing on your lip. It wasn’t lost on you what his words meant. What they implied. "Yes. But are you sure?"

He sent back a single word, filled with resolve: "Always."

—————————————————————————————

Thank you for reading. I hope you've enjoyed it. Thanks for liking, commenting and reblogging. 🧡🧡🧡 Part 4 coming soon

MASTERLIST

#18+ read #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #dark!rafe cameron #dirtytomatoedwrites #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader

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eetherealgoddess · 2 months

Text

So I feel like I wrote my last two stories a little mid so hopefully this is more detailed and well written. Also brought back the language barrier cuz I love it too and haven’t written a story with it in a while. :)

ꨄRabid Loveꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Hybrid Au

❦Your deceased grandmother’s will passed down wealth, a mansion in Japan, and five exotic hyrbids❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

❣︎A little love between some of the characters as well❣︎

Not fully proofread!

Japanese language is red

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture him as a black male but you can see him however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Rabid Love

The manor sits on top of a hill, distant from the busy streets of the city near. Trees cover the surface, surrounding as if a natural gate. Very few houses of the same build sit near amongst the land that stretches along. It had been a few weeks since your wealthy grandmother passed down the hybrids that you’re going to live with in her enormous house. You weren’t too excited about the news at first, having heard nothing but the word “responsibility” pop into your brain, however you couldn’t help but accept the gift once the will was stated as you sat in the chair of the office.

Once all was set, you moved yourself as well as your belongings into the mansion she once lived in, sort of creeped out by the fact that her ghost may or may not be lingering. Regardless, the situation had been unsettling considering she died inside the home. You mentally shook your anxiety away as you gathered your things from the car, thinking about how you and the hybrids would get along. The note she left had warned you of all concerns as well as facts about them.

So far you only knew that they are all males, adults, and two out of five of them are biologically related. They are broad with strong personalities. They can take care of themselves for the most part and were sort of like her sons. All of the males have the alpha gene which is the only thing you have to worry about, as a female yourself considering their weird dominance obsession. It is common for male hybrids to compete for superiority, especially when it comes to humans. It’s a surprise that these particular beings even got along as well as they do.

They were already situated in the house so you were the outsider coming in, having had an estranged relationship with your deceased grandmother for the majority of your lives. It wasn’t until a few years before she died you reached out, finding out that she had moved to Japan and started a new life away from the family when you were a child. It was sweet, the time you spent together before she went into hospice and gave into the light. You were at peace that she was no longer in physical pain so you were able to mourn in a brighter way, the thought helping you feel better.

Once you made it to the door, you took a deep breath and walked into the manor to begin your new life, set for the rest of your days by the blessing from your grandmother’s will. When you finally walked in, you were met with the smell of vanilla with a pinch of cinnamon, the beautiful decor shining amongst the white walls, reflecting off the marble floor perfectly. You weren’t used to such luxury, your gaze stuck on the maroon furniture placed in the foyer. A long staircase wrapped around a pillar to the left of the entrance facing inside.

You walked further, passing the foyer and walking through the arch. A butler stood, greeting you as he grabbed your luggage, leading you to your new bedroom up the stairs. You eye the doors you pass as you both stroll down the hall. He bows once you make it to the room before leaving you to your lonesome. You eye the large bed that you couldn’t wait to lay in for the first time. It looked far better than anything you’ve ever slept on, including the pillows.

You set your luggage down and gaze at the rest of the room, glancing at your balcony as well as the television and electric fireplace under it. A maroon rug on the cream carpet placed in front of the bed as well as an ottoman, and a walk-in closet near the bathroom’s door that’s connected through the bedroom. You decide to unpack your stuff later, eager to get meeting the hybrids over with as soon as possible. When you walk out of your room, you check the halls both ways as you listen for a presence near, to no avail. You move to the staircase before ascending down all the while gently holding the railing.

You walk through the foyer, surprised to not see any butlers or hybrids as you make your way to the living space. You perk up when you hear rustling in the kitchen, rushing to the area. You see a cabinet open, covering a face as they’re bent over, blonde tail sticking up as they search for something.

“Hey.” You say, attempting to make your presence known though you watch as the person ignores you and continues their hunt. You stood awkwardly as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt.

Damn. Should I walk away?

Finally the male grabs whatever he was looking for and stands up straight, closing the cabinet’s door before looking at you as he tears the bag of a snack. His blonde hair sways as his attention shifts to you, dark eyes boring into yours as he takes a bite. His ears stick out above his head, perking up as he chews.

“Who are you?” He says, accent thick even with his mouth full, swallowing before taking another bite. One of his hands is placed in his pocket as his tail sways to the other side. His face holds an unreadable expression.

“Y/n. I’m G/n’s granddaughter.” He hums before nodding, staring at you for a little longer before walking towards the doorway, turning slightly to the side to eye you.

“Mikey.” He says before disappearing into the hall. You stood frozen in your position.

I guess that wasn’t so bad. That must’ve been the lion. He was shorter than I thought he’d be. Four more and the hardest part will be over.

You walk out of the kitchen and head out of the den down the second hall. You hear music from a familiar videogame you once played, following the sound as you prepare yourself to meet whichever hybrids are playing the game. When you reached the closed door, your hand wrapped around the doorknob. You twist the object and push the door open, entering the large room that seems to be the game room, considering the futuristic look and electronic devices that surround the area. A large flat - screen displays the game as you face the back of the gaming chairs that hold two people.

You notice one of their tails hanging to the side of the chair, indicating one of the leopards your grandmother noted. “They come off mischevious though they do have a sweet side once you surpass that phase, but don’t forget that it isn’t a facade. They find amusement in others’ suffering.”

You’re glad she was honest though it didn’t calm your nerves in the slightest. Hybrids are known to be dangerous by nature considering their societal views of the world surrounding them. It comes from a survival instinct that somehow turned into play. They are intimidating creatures, especially when they are exotic which is why they are so expensive. You move into the room further before clearing your throat quietly.

“Hello.” You state, awaiting a response as the screen continues on. The only one who acknowledges you is the person who turns their head on the left, revealing tiger ears as their golden eyes meet yours. His lips upturn into a wide grin, turning in his seat to where he sits sideways, the tiger tattoo on his neck prominent under his long black and blonde hair, as well as the tail that sticks out on the other side of the chair.

“Hey there.” He greets. “Do you know Japanese?”

You shook your head as your hand reached the back of your neck in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly. “Nah. Sorry about that.”

“You knew you were moving here yet didn’t bother to learn basic Japanese? How smart of you.” Another voice says from the seat next to the tiger who chuckles in response.

You didn’t know what the first part of his speech was, but considering the last part of it you could tell it probably wasn’t the nicest statement. Irritation creeps in but you didn't want to assume the worst so you ignored the remark.

“Kazutora.” He states before nodding over to the man who sits next to him. “That’s Rin.”

“Cool. Y/n.” You respond.

“Well, nice to meet ya, Y/n. I guess I’ll see ya around.” He says before giving you one last smile and turning back in his seat to face the screen. You nod to yourself before leaving the room with a “You too.”

You sigh as you make your way out of the hall and towards the staircase. You walk up the stairs heading to your room before deciding to find the last two cats. Then you can breathe and focus on unpacking. As you walk past the upstairs balcony, you stroll down the hall that holds the doors to the bedrooms. You notice a cracked door as well, whispers and the sound of a man talking low. The closer you get the more your eyebrows furrow as you hear wet smacking sounds. When you look through the crack, your hand covers your mouth as you eye the display.

Long pink hair drapes over the shoulders of the man bent over with his face against the bed, a red hue covering his face as drops of sweat cause his skin to glisten. His eyebrows are furrowed as his nose scrunches, fingers gripping the comforter as his body rocks against the man behind him while his ears are flat. The jaguar’s tail is held behind him by the long haired leopard’s hand, naked body glistening with sweat along with highlighting the large tattoo embedded on his torso, all the while he pounds into the man below him. His other hand grips his hips, claws piercing the skin as their skin smacks together. Both men pant while releasing occasional moans and praises.

Once your eyes make contact with purple you swiftly move away and rush towards your room, slamming the door behind you as you press your back against it. You had not expected any of that but you didn’t plan to act weird about it. It just caught you by surprise as well as making you embarrassed for being caught watching.

You sigh before turning your own tv on and beginning your unpacking process. Once you finished you heard a knock at your door. You yell, “Come in!”

The door opens to reveal the butler from earlier.

“Dinner is ready, madam.”

“Oh, thanks. Also, you don’t have to call me madam.”

“Yes, L/n” You shrug as he leads you to the empty dining room. You sit in one of the chairs and watch as the chef comes out with a covered plate, setting it in front of you before lifting it to reveal your delicious smelling dinner. You didn't hesitate to dig in, causing some to drip out of your mouth. You’ve honestly never tasted something so delectable in your life. You down the plate of food so fast, you take a second to breathe before you ask for more, tempted to get up on your own and grab it from the chef’s station.

“You’re gonna choke if you slurp it down like that again.” A voice says from the entrance of the room, causing you to turn your head in their direction. You immediately felt warmth in your face when you see the leopard from earlier, his long black and blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, swaying as he walks in before sitting at the table.

His ears stick up as his tail moves to rest against his lap, fingers connected as his face leans on the back of his hands. His leg crosses as a sly smile falls along his expression. A strand of hair falls in front of his face as his droopy eyes gaze at you from across.

“I’ll be fine.” You respond just as another plate of food is placed in front of you. “Y/n.” You shake off your anxiety considering it’s really not a big deal. They could’ve at least closed the door.

“Haitani Ran.” He offers a hand, dark claws out causing you to hesitate before accepting with your own.

He takes the opportunity to lift the back of your hand to connect his lips, releasing you as he licks the taste of your skin off his lips. You ignored the residue tingle left on your hand and began to eat your second plate. You glance at the other men who entered the room, noticing all of them except the lion.

They all sit in their seats, Rin beside Ran and the pink haired male next to them. Kazutora takes a seat next to you.

“Wonder what’s on the menu.” Rin states sarcastically.

“Our favorite as always.” Ran responds with a knowing look.

“How do you think she’ll react?” Kazutora asks with amusement.

“She wouldn’t know the difference, you know how dense humans are.” The scarred male says.

You wish you would have at least looked into a translation tool of some sort because you try telling yourself that they’re just having a normal conversation but you feel like you’re being shit - talked. You know that it’s a ‘you’ problem but the tone and energy that comes with their speech has been off.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You say to the male you have yet to meet. He gives you a bored look before stating, “Sanzu.” Mikey finally entered the dining room with his arm rubbing against his tired eyes. He heads to the seat on the other side of you and sits after pulling the chair back. He leans over the table with his head lying on his palm.

“Had a nice nap?” Kazutora questions.

“Not long enough.” He says with a soft voice.

“You came earlier than usual.” Rin says before turning to his brother. “You owe me.” To which Ran rolled his eyes.

The same chef as earlier, along with a few others came out with covered plates and set them in front of the hybrids. They also poured their preferred beverage into the wine glasses. Your eyebrows furrowed as to how you forgot to ask for your own drink or why they didn’t have a cup already out like everyone else.

Well, I am new so it’s probably nothing personal.

When they lifted the cover, you eye the chunks of raw meat along with the side dishes surrounding the plate. The smell was enticing though you’ve never been one to enjoy raw food in fear of the repercussions.

I guess they are technically big cats so it’s healthy for them.

You’ve never seen meat that looks quite like what’s on their plates. You watch as Sanzu rubs his meat into the red substance that puddles around it before lifting the chopsticks to his mouth.

“What is that?” You hope to not come off rude or ignorant though you were just so curious you couldn’t keep your mouth shut. Some of them gave each other looks all the while snickering or rolling their eyes.

“Fresh human.” Mikey says casually before taking another bite. Your eyes widen, hand holding your own chopsticks pausing as you stare down at your plate.

“Don’t worry, your dinner is animal meat.” The golden eyed tiger reassures you. Unfortunately, you’ve seemed to have lost your appetite.

“So, how do you obtain human meat?” You ask.

“By cooking a human.” Rin snorts. You glare at his smart ass answer and look over to the others.

“Your grandmother has freezers full of cut human slabs by those who signed off on donating their body parts to the Hybrid - Food Society Association.” Ran explains before taking another bite of food.

“They’re cleaned thoroughly before they’re slaughtered considering most donations are only after they’re dead.” He continued, “lucky for us only the healthiest of humans are chosen to be a meal specially made for the exotic hybrids such as us.”

How have you never heard of this before? Then again they only make normal pet food for non - exotic hybrids. You’ve never even been around a regular hybrid let alone the type you have to live with now. You nod your head as you prevent the bile from coming up your throat. You know that humans are technically just chunks of meat with legs, still on the food chain for other species and even on their own at times. You still couldn’t help but feel disturbed. They could decide to eat you at any moment and you’d be done for.

You turn to the chef and give your thanks before standing up and nodding a dismissal to the rest of the men, heading to your room so you could take a moment to relieve yourself of the anxiety forming. When you reached your bedroom, you decided to take a shower, gathering a pair of pajamas before entering your bathroom and turning the faucet on. After your shower you completed your nightly routine and hopped into bed.

After a few hours of scrolling and not being able to sleep, you climbed out of bed and walked through the hall to the staircase. Once you reach the den, one of your eyebrows raise at the tiger who sat on the couch leaned over. As you walked around you noticed the tray on his lap as well as the opened wrap in his hands that he brought to his lips to lick the lining before rolling the leaf, closing around the green flower. His ears perked up as he turned slightly to look at you.

“Want some?” He says with a smile and tilted head, holding the joint up.

Sitting on the balcony connected to his room, you both pass the stick as you converse about whatever comes to mind, slight laughter along with semi - deep conversation that’s lingering between the surface and depth. A moment of silence included with the level of ganja consumed enhanced your need for sleep, you lying on the ground as your legs hang off the edge of the balcony. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel weightless under the moonlight. Your steady breathing caught Kazutora’s attention.

He turns back to look at you before finishing off the roach and ashing it out. He tossed it below, the burnt leaf disappearing into the forested area. He leaned back, connecting with the floor as he turned his head to the side to observe your sleeping face. His own expression is stoic besides the light pink hue that lingers on his face. After lying there for a moment, he sits up to lean over you and sniff near your neck, your distinct scent fuming his nostrils. One of his hands move to your shoulder as he grips the skin, sniffing a little harsher than before to receive every fume that comes from you.

A few weeks pass and you find yourself with a casual routine. Fortunately, you’ve bonded well with Kazutora though that’s not much of a surprise since he was the most welcoming. His extrovertedness did well with helping you out of your comfort zone. Today you went out to run errands. Eyeing the building to your left and noticing that it is a bakery, you decide to run in and buy a case of Mikey’s favorite treat. You knew he was running out so a quick pit stop couldn’t hurt.

When you arrived home you dropped the case on the kitchen counter before quickly taking your own stuff to your room, planning to place it in the right area once you finished setting your bags on the floor. When you made it downstairs, you stopped to see Mikey opening the case you had set on the counter. When he grabs the snack, he opens the package and sets the treat between his lips, fangs glistening before he takes a bite.

“Thanks.” He says before walking out. You shrug before sneaking one of your own and setting the rest in the pantry. You knew that he’d eat all of those within the next two to three days so you thought to snatch one to try before he eats them all.

A few days pass and he asks if you can style his hair so he wouldn’t have to. You didn’t think pulling half your hair up in a ponytail could be that much work but to each their own. You didn’t mind styling his hair, the soft strands entangling your fingers as you pulled it up to wrap the band around the section once you were finished brushing the mane. You thought his ears would make it harder for you but there was no trouble at all. He stared at the tv all the while you completed the ponytail.

From that day on he would automatically show up in your room and position himself on the ottoman at the foot of the bed. You never complained nor rejected him. It was quite the bonding experience even when you two didn’t talk at all. More weeks passed and he gradually showed more comfortability around you, making excuse after excuse just to touch you such as making you carry him, lying his head on your lap, or spooning you whenever he’d ask to sleep in your bed. You found the behavior adorable and the company appreciated.

A couple months passed and you were walking up the stairs to your bedroom after a smoke session with Kazutora. When you opened your door, the putrid smell smacked your face before you eye the red liquid from the freshly slaughtered human arm lying on your comforter. You covered your mouth before bile shot up your throat and caused you to vomit on the floor. Dry heaving and gagging, tears fall down your face at the burning liquid from your throat as well as the stench filling your nostrils.

“What a sight.” A voice says behind you though you’re too distracted to notice, running to your bathroom before slamming the door shut. Laughter filled the room.

After you got yourself together you were met with an ‘apology’ from Rin and Sanzu, though it only consisted of, “It was just a prank.” Ran offered for you to sleep in his room until the mattress and sheets were replaced, to which Mikey and Kazutora tried to argue against in order for you to stay with them instead.

A few months pass and you wake up in the middle of the night. You felt the urge to walk down the hall considering the loud noise that startled you awake. Once you did, you found one of the bedroom doors open. Walking in, you gasped when you see Sanzu on the ground completely out of it with his eyes barely open and head leaning against the wall. You immediately take action and stick your fingers into his throat forcing him to vomit whatever he consumed. Once he came back to consciousness you wrapped your arms around him and cried on his shoulder for his safety, his own eyes staring ahead into the space across from where you sat.

Unknown to you, after a week passed he made himself a routine of observing you while you slept. Sometimes he would even climb in the bed, accidentally waking you up though you weren’t concerned, embracing the jaguar in your arms as you fell back into slumber.

One day, you just couldn’t take your eyes off of Ran’s long hair. You asked if you could play with it, as it reminded you of the mannequin heads you received as a little girl. He didn’t mind. As a matter of fact he fell asleep numerous times on your lap, nuzzling comfortably against your thighs as your fingers traced his scalp. Sometimes, he’d even ask you to downright scratch his head, his body reacting slightly as the tingles go straight down his spine. It was cute.

A month passed and you were walking through the rest of the mansion you had yet to see. You almost passed a room until the leopard patterned ears caught your attention. You watched as Rin worked out in the gym, lifting large weights. You eye the matching tattoo that sits on the opposite side of his brother’s torso. Never really exercising consistently, you walk into the room and grab the smallest weights as a joke before standing next to him and lifting your own, giving him a humorous smile. He side glances at you before you turn away, continuing to lift as you miss the red hue forming on his face.

A year passed and you decidedl that it’s time for you to meet other humans who reside in Japan. Having been slacking on your social skills, you couldn’t help the nerves that struck when you went out to meet a group of people you’ve never met before you were hit up on social media. You made sure to dress appropriately considering you all would be bar hopping and running around the booming streets of a popular city. The night was spent with pure joy and good energy as you all roamed the area. The hours reach the am and you finally return home, a little tipsy as you stumble into the foyer.

“Where were you?” You almost jolt out of your skin when you try passing the den, turning to see Kazutora sitting on the sofa with a leg crossed.

“Oh, you scared me.” You giggle in relief. His expressionless gaze caused you to quiet down before you responded to his question. “I went out with some people I met.”

“Who?” He asks in a serious tone. You raise one of your eyebrows.

“What is this an interrogation?” He holds his hands up in surrender with a sheepish smile.

“It was just a question.” You sigh before shaking your head.

“I-I’m sorry about that, I shouldn’t have gotten so defensive.” You drop your purse on the floor before sitting next to him.

“It’s alright. Wanna smoke?” He questions before he feels your head leaning against his shoulder. Your quiet breathing indicated your slumber. He sits up and turns his body towards you, shifting you to lean back on the couch before diving into your neck, sniffing the scents from the various humans that had been in your presence. His expression turns into irritation, a drop in his stomach as he feels the need to scrub your body clean of the stench that surrounds you. Instead, he helped you to bed.

A few weeks pass and you go on a date. The meeting was nice and the guy really made your day with his gentlemen - like behavior. You stepped out of the car after he dropped you off. He walked you to your door before you gave him a kiss on the cheek and told him, “Bye.” When you entered the door, you were immediately grabbed by the arm while you were sniffed by Rin.

“Gross.” He hissed before dropping your arm and walking away. Leaving you confused as you stood in your spot. On another occasion you were in the middle of braiding Ran’s hair while he faced you with his legs over yours, both of you sitting on your bed.

“Wouldn’t you rather watch tv than me?” You chuckled. He shook his head with a smile.

“Nope.” He says before pushing you on your back and climbing on top of you, nuzzling his head between your shoulder and positioning himself comfortably enough to nap. You roll your eyes and shift your attention to the flat screen while caressing his back until you fall asleep on your own.

When you went to the bathroom after you both woke up and he left your room, your eyebrows furrowed at the marks left on your neck. Tracing them as you stared deeply into the mirror. You confronted him though he promised to not do it again, he didn’t listen. You begin to hide it with makeup when going out only for the foundation to show up missing each time, causing you to stop buying new products considering they’d disappear anyway.

“Master, my dorayaki is gone!” Mikey whines as he sits on top of your lap, legs circled around your waist as you sit on the sofa in the den. You pull him back by the arms while giving him a look.

“Mikey, I’ve already told you to stop calling me that.”

He continues to whine about his missing dorayaki, ignoring your statement as he calls you the preferred name over and over.

“I can’t get you more if you don’t get up.” To which he replied, “Then take me with you.”

“You’d still have to get down.” He paused above you, sniffing your neck before you felt a long wet muscle leave a trail of moisture.

“Mikey!” You gasp.

“All I can smell is Ran’s stupid scent on you.” He hissed before he continued to lick and mark up your neck with his own scent. You ignore the chills running up your back as you attempt to push him off though his grip is keeping you locked. His tail wraps around one of your arms while his hand grabs your other wrist, preventing you from pushing against him. You huff frustratingly.

You’ve been noticing the absence of a few of your clothing. The only thing you know is that someone has been stealing from your dirty clothes basket. It probably doesn’t worry you as much as it should but you couldn’t really do anything about it without the risk of accusing the wrong person and causing a problem. It wasn’t until one night you walked into Sanzu’s, seeing him naked and asleep as he held one of your favorite shirts. Your eyes widen at the pair of your panties tangled around his limp cock.

You immediately leave the room, shutting the door behind you and walking back to your bedroom. You brush the memory off as something to do with their instincts and comfortability or something, you don’t really know how to react to that. You didn’t bring it up nor did you say anything about it to anyone else. You’ve caught a few of them either having intercourse or masturbating but never once with your clothes. Not until then or until you ended up finding Kazutora sniffing your panties with drowsy eyes all the while Mikey pounding his ass above him, his head leaning on the tiger’s back while he gripped his waist. Now that was a sight you hadn’t expected to see at all.

You just thought that they all had a harmless crush on you and didn’t know what to do with it besides their sexual escapades so you didn’t say a word. You didn’t find a problem with their behavior until you had a visitor. You had no idea why they acted so rudely to your new friend, her being a girl who you were not attracted to in the slightest way sexually or romantically. It was clear the platonic friendship you had going on but for them to just outright go out of their way to aggressively make her uncomfortable is insane to you. You refrained from inviting anyone else over. It seemed to have just gone downhill from there.

One night you woke up and felt cold air hitting your whole body which made no sense considering you fell asleep warm in your pajamas. What you hadn’t expected was the moisture hitting one of your nipples nor the muscle sliding against your clit. Two pairs of purple eyes glower at you all the while continuing their assault. Claws slightly penetrate your thighs as well as the breast that’s being held against a mouth. Your hips buck before you sit up and push the older brother back, as well as the head of the younger.

“Rin! Ran! What in the fuck?!” You exclaim.

You had them all sit down in the den, the males holding expressions of boredom or little care for what you were going on about. You set boundaries about everything that had made you uncomfortable. The only reason you were explaining anything was because they are all hybrids and have different sets of rules and social constructs than regular humans. Although disturbed you decided to give them the benefit of the doubt, hoping things would get better.

You made an unfortunate decision, attempting to invite another friend over, this time a male. Considering there had been some time that passed and the hybrids had listened to your concerns, you thought that you could finally have some company. It was very late by the time you both realized the time, you being nice and offering him to stay in one of the guest bedrooms and sleep over. When you hadn’t heard from him or seen him walk out of the room, you decided to check in. Only for you to let out a scream of terror at what was left of the mauled body lying on the bed. You couldn’t stop trembling as you hyperventilated, Kazutora rubbing your sides as he held you against his chest while the maids cleaned the mess.

A few days pass as you stay locked in your room. You get up from the bed and head to your grandmother’s old bedroom on the other side of the mansion. You searched for anything that could notify you of the violence that occured. Some piece of information on how to stay safe or figure out how to lessen their weird behavior. The only thing you found was your grandmother’s journal. You sat in your bedroom and read the entire passage. Your hands tremble as realization smacks you in the face. When you couldn’t find anyone upstairs, you rushed down to the game room after passing the empty den.

All of them were either sitting on gaming chairs or the couches, focusing on what was displaying on the screen. You walked to the tv, unplugging it and throwing the journal on the ground. You contemplated just making your exit quietly but you were so angry you acted out of emotion.

“What the fuck did you do to my grandma?! Who are you and what was your plan?”

They all stare at you with absent expressions. The only thing that could be heard was your heavy breathing.

“What are you talking about?” Kazutora questions. You shake your head.

“No don’t fucking try to manipulate me you know exactly what I’m talking about!” You say before grabbing one of the unused controllers near the tv and chucking it at him, only for him to dodge it.

“And what do you think you’re gonna do about it, huh? She’s dead and you’re lucky we spared you.” Rin says with irritation. Your eyes widen.

“Lucky you spared me?! Your plan was to kill me after poisoning her to death so you can steal everything from us!” You exclaim. “You lied to her and she was too old to notice that she even wrote it herself! You knew she didn’t have her right mind so you manipulated her into thinking you loved her!” The sound of another controller breaking catches your attention.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about. We loved her like our mother.” Sanzu growls.

“Then why did you gradually kill her to steal from her! You don’t do that to people you love!”

“It wasn’t part of the plan to bond with her. She was just some old rich lady before we got to know her.” Ran says with a stoic expression. You scoff.

“Oh please! You’re fucking terrible!” You exclaim before walking to the exit. Before you could leave the room you were snatched by your arm.

“Where are you going?” Mikey questions while gripping your arm with his claws slightly piercing your skin, dark eyes glaring into your own orbs.

“Away from you freaks.” You hissed attempting to pull your arm away from him only to get thrown on the ground. You land with a thud along with a grunt when the back of your head meets the carpet.

Before you can get back up, you’re forced on your back, Mikey climbing on top of you and pinning you to the ground.

“LET ME GO!” You roar, fear mixing with the anger as the grip on your wrists tighten. His tail wraps around your neck in a tight hold, blocking your airway while he stares down at you with a cold look. You stare wide eyed as you struggle in his hold.

“Calm down, Y/n.” Kazutora says as they all gather around, him crouching down to eye you from above.

“Knock her out already.” Rin states before Sanzu pressed harshly against your pressure point, causing you to go limp immediately.

“It’s okay.” A voice cooes in your ear from behind. Heat covers your body as you groan while slowly coming to reality. The only light is the moonlight reflecting into the room, causing a hollow glow. You feel your own body rocking as the feeling of being stretched from below causes you to gasp. Hands grip your shoulders as your stomach is pressed against the bed. You hear panting behind you as kisses are placed on your neck and shoulder.

“I… hah, love you so much. Fuck!” Kazutora breathes out as he rocks his lower body against yours, sliding his thick erection out of your body before shoving it back inside deeply, purposefully aiming himself to hit the spot he knows will drive you crazy. You look up wide eyed at purple eyes that stare down at you from above, cock in hand right in front of your eyesight as he kneels on the bed.

“M’ so close. G-gonna fill this pussy up with my fucking cum.” His hair drapes over your back as his thrusts harden. He pulls his hips back before pressing them against your ass, accelerating his steady pace as he aims his head perfectly against your g - spot. You whimper as you bite your lip, tears streaming down your face as you turn your head the other way to not face the older Haitani. Only to be met with icy blue orbs glowering down at you with a twisted look of lust on his expression, such an intense gaze that forces you to shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the time to pass and this to be over.

Kazutora’s thrusts become harder as you feel a rise of your own stomach, the stimulation getting the best of your body before you release, the male over you holding his hips against your ass before he shoots ropes of cum inside of you. Breathing heavily, you feel his weight lift off of you before forcing you to turn over on your back. You cry out when Mikey crawls in between your legs, holding your legs up as he positions himself to push inside.

“I hate you! I-I hate all of you!” You hysterically cry, using your fists to bang against Mikey’s chest before Rin appears in your vision, grabbing your chin as he leans over, red hue covering his cheeks.

“Shut up.” He says before forcing you into a passionate kiss.

Once they were all done taking their turns with you, you were carried to the bathroom to get cleaned up by Ran. Your limp body is exhausted from being used by the stronger species, worn out and broken from the inside out. You knew that the next day would be spent planning your escape.

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jellycrusher · 5 months

Text

Wolves and Lambs: Part 1

Alpha Max Verstappen x Omega fem!driver

Genre: Series, Omega verse, Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Eventual smut

Synopsis: Male Alphas are the ones who dominate motor sports all around the world, especially Formula 1. It is a well known fact. Females in general nor Female Omegas are never heard nor encouraged to join the sport since the 1950s. Well, up until now...

Word Count: 2.4k

Chapter's Premise: "How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me."

Parts: W&L masterlist / general masterlist

"How does it feel to be the only female alpha here on the grid?" The reporter extends his mic to you during the last press conferences on the last F2 Grand Prix in Abu Dhabi.

Here we go again. "It doesn't feel any different. Everybody here puts out their all when racing and I do that too. Outside of race week, I could say that they're like my younger brothers. It's fun."

"Congratulations again for your promotion to Formula 1 for the next season. Do you have any expectations? Any goals coming in to next year?" At least this reporter is not sexist unlike the others.

"I have been the test driver for Aston Martin for almost two years now. I'm grateful that I've been given the seat alongside Fernando Alonso. Any expectations? I've seen how hard everyone works back in the factory. I hope we develop a better race-winning car. My goal is definitely to win a Grand Prix." You can't help but smile at the thought that your next career move is inching closer and closer now.

"Thank you very much. That's y/n y/l/n, everyone. Your 2023 F2 World Champion." You bid goodbye to the reporter while your Press Officer ushers you to the next reporter.

After your meeting with the Aston Martin Team, your assistant tugs your shirt to signal you to walk to Mike Krack, the team principal.

"Here comes our favorite female driver!" He enthusiastically opens up his arms to welcome you in a tight hug. "Are you ready for the next season?"

"All good. I'm itching to jump in the car and drive." You chuckle as he release you from the hug.

"Hello sir. I just would like to go through something with you." Megan, your assistant, clears her throat which caught the attention of your new team principal. "I just informed y/n that you are aware of her true classification. I want to know how do we handle it from here."

You freeze in your spot as you observe Mike's face. It was astounding that your team principal is still very much determined to add you to the lineup despite knowing that you are not an Alpha, rather an Omega. He assures that he didn't care about it but what he looks for in a driver is talent, grit, and passion.

All your former team in F3 and F2 were never made aware of this fact, even until now. You never had a problem with this secret since your heat haven't arrived yet. At 25, you were considered a very late-bloomer, Normally, one would have their first heat at around 17-20 years old. If you were asked, you prefer it to never arrive at all. Better that way, at least it won't affect you during your races if ever it comes unexpectedly.

Ultimately, you had to force your manager to be upfront with Mike Krack. She was hesitant at first but you knew it was inevitable. The first one is always unpredictable and is affected by your emotions. It's better if your contract stays intact and won't be affected by it.

"We'll keep it under wraps. Limit the people within our team. I know a few people in the media so if this gets out, we can control it. I'll do everything that I can to keep a talent such as yours." Mike pats your back as he noticed you keeping quiet at Megan's side.

It's a wonder that you were able to keep it a secret up until now. It's not that it's forbidden to have Omegas as drivers in motorsport. There were a few male Omegas and only one female Omega before. She drove for one season and retired on the next. It was a very brief stint. Since then, no female omegas were ever able to climb up to Formula 1. Well, not until me but it's a secret. For now.

Of course you want to make a name for yourself. Not just being the first female driver since the 50s but a female Omega. It's something to be proud of. Although, majority of the people are still against it and will surely doubt your talent before they even see it.

Most of the people in the paddock that are either managers, mechanics, presenters, race engineers, and PR officers are almost all Betas and a few are only Omegas; just to name a few. The drivers and team principals are almost entirely Alphas.

You remember Megan mentioned that two of the drivers on the 2024 grid are Omegas but you forgot the names. Well, she also painfully reminded you to keep your classification a secret from them so forgetting who's who is not actually a bad thing.

Back in your F3 and F2 days, whenever Alpha drivers would argue with each other and get rowdy, you could literally feel the effects within you. Shivers down to your spine, tightening chest, trembling hands. Used to having that kind of physical effect on you during those situations, you would just avoid any altercations with any of them.

You were dubbed "The Lamb" of the paddock, being the calm and collected driver out of all of them. In contrast to your nickname, you were like a wolf when you put on the helmet. You would obliterate every driver during every race, herding them to the side.

"I look forward racing alongside our new driver." You, Megan, and Mike swiftly turned your head towards one direction. The sight of the Spanish driver smiling made you freeze. "I've seen your lap times during one of the test drives at Silverstone. It's been the talk of the factory. You almost beat Max's record lap time on the track."

He's definitely an Alpha. The Alpha aura that the two time world champion exudes is definitely nerve-racking. Any other Omega should've felt this when they met him, for sure. It's good that you're used to being around Alphas that it's not obvious in your body language that you were affected.

You bumped fists with Alonso. "Let's not forget the impression you left on the other drivers on FP1 back in Abu Dhabi GP when 11 rookies joined the practice for the Driver Development Program. You drove my AMR23 like a beast and you were the only rookie who was able to put their car in the top 10. In P3, at that." Alonso chuckles, reminding him how the team radios of other drivers went when you were passing them on the track, as broadcasted.

"Thank you sir. Just wanted to show everyone who they might compete against." you replied.

"Oh you most definitely did." he smirks.

It was a comfortable welcome within Aston Martin. Even Lance Stroll, who took a break from Formula 1 to recover from his injuries due to a career-changing incident, worked with you and Alonso to work out the kinks in the car. Being the son of Lawrence Stroll, he won't leave his son out in Formula 1 in any kind of way. Plus, Lance is a familiar face back in karting days so his presence actually helps.

Days pass and it all felt like a blur. You were practically living in the factory when you made certain to be as hands-on as possible with the development of the car. When you sat in the car for almost 2 hours for the seat fitting, Megan basically bribed the other engineers to let you rest for once. The other employees nearby were laughing because Megan was pushing the other engineers away that you were hollering to come to you.

Come February, the day of the AMR24 reveal. It was the first event where you donned your green race suit in front of everyone. In the backstage, Fernando could notice the tenseness painting your face. Lance was also there with you two waiting. He smacked your back so hard that you almost cursed at him, warranting a loud laugh from Fernando.

The welcoming party for the F1 teams was held in Bahrain on the third week of February, just a few days before pre-season testing. Lance and Fernando accompanied you to a ballroom decorated elegantly from the floor to the ceiling where waiters are walking around to give hors d'oeuvres and champagne to people basically in dapper suits and sparkling dresses at every turn. F1 events never disappoint.

You gently push Lando and Fernando to leave you and to go mingle with sponsors and other people they know. Laughing at how close you got to the two drivers just after a few months of working with them. Fernando felt like a mentor and a father, while Lance felt like an annoying brother.

Multiple Alphas gathering in one venue is hurting your nose and making your head spin. As a temporary refuge, you occupy an empty seat at the bar and ordered an Amaretto Sour. It didn't take you two sips before somebody with a mild Alpha scent sits next to you. You look at the man through your periphery. Unruly hair so brown with soft curls and a gummy smile.

"Nervous on your first event?" he says, sliding his drink close to him after the bartender hands it out.

"Hm?" You swiftly turn your head at the man, still taking a sip from your drink.

"You're y/n, right? Aston Martin? I'm Lando Norris. I'm just wondering why a gorgeous woman like you is alone here at the bar?" he replies.

"Nice to meet you!" You offer your hand out to the Mclaren Driver and he shakes it. "Big events like this is not my thing. I'm just charging up my social battery right now. Fernando and Lance will likely pull me later to meet with our sponsors." You add while taking another sip to help mask the overwhelming scent of the venue.

"Tell me about it. It's an introvert's worse nightmare." Another man with an Australian accent pops up beside Lando, wrapping his arm on the man's shoulder. "I'm Oscar Piastri. Nice to meet you!"

Lando and Oscar turns out to be such a fun company to be with. They even introduced you to some of the drivers that were not so busy socializing with VIPs and sponsors; like Yuki Tsunoda, Daniel Ricciardo, Pierre Gasly, Esteban Ocon, Alexander Albon, and Logan Sargeant.

Lando was about to call Charles and Max when he spotted them from afar but you were quickly pulled away by Lance to do some rubbing shoulders with your team's sponsors.

"Hey! Why did you call me?" Charles pats Lando's back then proceeds to greet the others gathered around at the bar.

"I was going to introduce you to someone but Lance swept her away." Lando scoffs as he greets Max, who appeared behind Charles.

Max and Charles search the crowd for Lance and eventually spots the man with a gorgeous girl at his side in an emerald green long dress. "Remember the driver who got P3 in FP1 when we were in Abu Dhabi?" says Lando to the two men staring at your side profile while you were busy smiling and mingling with older men.

"Y/n Y/l/n, right? Aston Martin?" Charles said, still can't peel his eyes away from you.

"How could I forget? The reckless rookie during FP1. Almost crashed into me." Max sneers, turns back at the bar and orders a drink.

"Come on mate. Like you were not? You were too aggressive at that FP1. You drove like you were racing with us already. Even overtaking at the pit lane exit." Charles lightly slapped his hand on Max's chest, earning a laugh from him and Lando.

"Still. At the end of the day, she was too eager to prove herself that it came off as reckless." Max takes the drink that he ordered and turns back around to his fellow drivers.

"Come on, you were like that when we were young. Remember our inCHIdent?" Charles, Lando, and even Pierre and Alex laughed so hard at the mention of the adorable memory of Charles and Max's rivalry when they were young.

"Maybe you're just nervous that someone might be able to finally de-throne you from your seat, your majesty?" Lando chuckles.

"We'll see at the pre-season testing if she's all bark and no bite." says Max, staring at you like you're a lamb in a wolf hunt.

"The new season of Formula 1 is just around the corner. But before the lights go out in Bahrain, you'll see all teams hit the track in three rigorous pre-season testing days. It's the first chance to see how this season is shaping up."

It was so surreal to see your driver number 13 in big font on the side of your AMR24. This is the dream and it all starts with the pre-season testing. With only just one car per team to be allowed per day, it was decided that you will drive on the first and second day, and Fernando on the third day.

You could say that it was a bit difficult on the first day. The car was superb and fast, except for the porpoising. After driving almost 150 laps with all the porpoising and understeer, your back felt like cracked uncooked noodles. The makeshift bed in your room in the garage basically inviting you to sprawl down on it. Thankfully, the car got better on the second day.

Everyone was so busy to improve everything on the car that you barely mingled with anyone outside of your team. Even on the third day where Fernando was out on track, you were still discussing with the engineers on what to improve and what strategies to use on the first race in Bahrain a week from now.

After the pre-season testing, Megan made sure to empty out at least two days in your schedule to give you a break. You woke up at around 11 am and went down to the hotel lounge to spend some time reading. Oscar was about to go to the hotel restaurant but stopped when he saw you.

"What are you reading?" You looked up behind you when you heard a voice and saw Oscar in casual clothes.

"Nothing. Just something to pass the time." You replied as Oscar takes up the couch beside you. "Are you about to have lunch?"

"Yeah. Just waiting for Lando." said Oscar, keeping his eyes on you. Oscar paused for a moment, contemplating on continuing his train of thought. "I'm curious so I'm just gonna ask it now."

"What?" you ask, closing your book.

"Why are you hiding that you are an Omega?"

Next part: Part 2

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haet-sal · 1 year

Text

Tatsächlich Liebe (Love, Actually)//jun x fem!reader (smut included)

Tags: cute single dad!boss!jun with a crush, mini-wen involved, office romance, shower sex, public sex, sort of cheating bc you have a sort-of-boyfriend, pining i suppose?, jun with a crush, went a little ANGSTY, Bestie!minghao

You’re the wide-eyed, clueless-but-on-top secretary to Wen Junhui, and it all starts, with one new year’s kiss… well, new year’s fuck.

Mr. Wen likes you. It should have been obvious, whenever he seemed to forgive your inadequate work ethics and frequent unfailing mishaps, and how much he trusted you, no matter how many mistakes you made, how much he hated hearing about your life with your boyfriend… and what kind of boss goes shopping for their employee, privately, anyway?

Warnings: y/n is incredibly seductive and more dominant and a bit of a fuckgirl, anxious Jun, cheating, Guanhang from nct is here as your very mean and distant bf

W.c.: 11k

~~~~~

You might not be very good at your job. And you realize this when you spill Jun’s coffee for the fifth time since you started working (6 months now). That was 0.8 coffees per month.

Times 2, and 3: You forgot to cap the coffee all the way right, after opening it because you FORGOT to ask for the sugar and you had to open it, put a packetful in, stir and cap it again, and Jun spills it on his shirt on his first attempt to drink it. Your penalty: Jun offers a tight lipped smile and caps it himself. “That’ll be all, thanks, Y/n.”

Time 1: you didn’t lay the cup right on his desk. It only spilled maybe 4 drops. Yay. That’s a win, in the book of Y/n. Penalty: nothing.

Time 4, the worst of them all: YOU SPILLED IT ON THE DOCUMENTS HE HAD ON HIS DESK. You don’t even know how, but the full fucking cup spilled. Penalty: “I got it, thanks,” Jun said (thanks for what? He lost documents and three quarters of his coffee) “could you print these again?”

Time 5: this time the coffee didn’t even make it onto his desk, you trip and spill it on yourself. To be fair, you were carrying the lunch orders of the others in your office, so it was a precarious situation.

“I’ll go get a new one!” you called out, since Jun was watching from behind the foggy, half translucent glass door of his office, where he could definitely see you from the way he was angled, but you only saw a part of his dark oakwood table.

There would be a line at the cafe, it was lunch time. But you were determined to make yourself important and cut in line, no matter what it took. “I WORK FOR THE BOSS” would be one thing you could say.

As you head back for the elevator, Jun’s head peeks out of the aforementioned glass door. “y/n,” he called—you like that he never called you like he was demanding your presence, like a rude guest you were waiting on, but rather… softly. Jun just had a softness to him. “Hey, actually, forget the coffee, if it’s not here—can you go get one of those donuts with sprinkles on it?”

“Pink,” came a very boyish little voice from behind the door.

“Pink, with sprinkles, like Homer Simpson eats.”

You walk back to the office, and open it wider, so the little boy could finally appear to you. “Hey, mini-Mr. Wen. Would you like to walk there with me, so you can pick what you’d like?” Jun was very paranoid, but also a very at-ease parent. Meaning: he did let his son go places without him, with other guardians, but also had a terrible anxiety that left him imagining all the worst scenarios until the boy was back in front of his eyes. And yet, you still asked, because you knew Jun was busy. He couldn’t be watching the kid right now.

Hao—that was his name, ‘inspired’ by his father’s love for his best friend, although Jun would say he lost a bet and that’s all it was—nodded, but he wasn’t walking on his feet: he immediately extended both arms out for you to carry him. “Alright, buddy! Let’s go!”

Jun managed a half-absentminded, half-grateful smile at you, mouthing his thanks. And then the door closed.

“Donuts,” Hao says quietly.

“Yes, donuts! We’re getting donuts, getting donuts…” you sang as you walked towards the elevator.

Today Jun’s aforementioned best friend and trades partner was in the office with him, because he wanted to come see his little namesake. As Minghao talked business and life with Jun, he saw how relaxed Jun usually was, rather than be the ball of anxiety he turned into whenever his son was somewhere in public not holding onto his own hand.

“You actually trust that intern,” Minghao drew his conclusions.

“She’s permanently employed!” Jun says with a smile. “Do you want me to text her and tell her to bring you a coffee?”

“Where’s yours?”

“She…” There was no way to sugarcoat this in a way that Minghao would feel sympathetic towards you. “Kinda spilled it.”

“... You permanently employed a secretary who couldn’t even bring you coffee.” Seeing Jun’s shocked eyes (how dare you bring that up, Minghao! He was probably thinking), Minghao continued: “didn’t she cause that delay with that shipping company because of her other-and-frequent mishaps, and you had to ask them to deliver the papers all over again? Why would you keep her after that?”

“I don’t know,” Jun says, pondering on his systems himself, “I’ve been through a lot of short-term interns, but I just employed her permanently because, I don’t know, it’s actually became a chore sifting through new secretaries, and she just feels right.”

Minghao cocked an eyebrow. Pushed his glasses up to his forehead. “Feels… right…” Jun did not return any ripostes to the accusations Minghao’s raised eyebrows were throwing. “But I’ve never seen you trust anybody with little Hao this much.”

“Y/n’s a natural around Hao,” Jun’s praise of you came lightly, and he broke into a smile. “Hao loves her.”

“Jun… just because she’s good with your kid doesn’t mean she’s good at her job.”

“Give her a chance!” Jun says with a nudge of his elbows. “She gets my order just right—I swear, no one gets the sugar-to-coffee ratio as right as she does.”

“Maybe because she’s the one delivering it. You know drinks taste sweeter when you like the person serving them.”

Jun groaned. “Hao…” Suddenly red in the cheeks, Jun brought his hands to cover his face, feigning that he was yawning or scratching his cheek or something. But Minghao saw through everything.

“All I’m saying is, I wonder if she really is good at her job—”

The door opened, and you and the Mini-Wen peeked through, with the little boy holding two cups of coffee. “I got your orders!” you say. “Well, Hao got them! I’ll keep watching him, if you want?”

“But I wanna sit on papa’s chair–!”

You grabbed the little boy gently. “Papa’s in a serious talk with uncle Hao, do you think we can hang out at my desk? I have games!”

Minghao shot a look at Jun, as the two of you walked back out of the office. He reached for the cup of coffee with ‘Xu’ written on its side, handing Jun the other. “Anyway,” he says, “back to our ‘serious discussion—” He took a sip of his drink, and suddenly looked completely apprehensive, like he wanted to spit it out.

But under the light of Jun’s alarmed gaze, Minghao slowly swallowed it, and then placed it back on the desk. “This is… this is not my order.”

“She just can’t tell between everybody’s orders,” Jun offered. “She’s still learning!”

Minghao took another sip. “I think this is oatmilk… I can sort of get behind it.”

Today was Christmas, which was why Hao was at the office: he was going to be picked up by his mom to go to her parents’ house, where he would spend the holidays. Jun and the mom never really interacted, or so says everyone at the office–you had never met her. Jun preferred that the handing away of the kid be done through third parties, from babysitters who would text as soon as she had come to take him away, through secretaries, or even through the office receptionist. Whatever it took to not see her.

You’re not good at your job. You’re clumsy, distracted, inadequate, and most of the time you gossiped away, or at least listened to all the gossip instead of concentrating on your job. What you’ve heard about the matrimony of Jun and his ex was: there wasn’t even a wedding. They got pregnant, they became engaged, apparently the wife got cold feet before the wedding and just decided she didn’t want to be a mother and a wife forever. She asked that one of her flings take her away to somewhere exclusive before the ceremony—someone says it was to the swiss alps, someone says they holed up at an air bnb just out of town—and never even showed up for the wedding planning and the ceremony had to be canceled.

As the story goes… her family had been glad, thinking Jun wasn’t the right person to get settled with. Back then he was handling the up-and-coming company, but they didn’t have faith in his line of work—they did, however, want their little grandson, and the custody battle turned ugly, which added to why Jun didn’t want to see his ex or hear anything about them. Ultimately he got full custody, as the mother didn’t even really want Hao.

Whenever you saw the almost-Mrs. Wen, she was incredibly cool, hiding behind oversized sunglasses. You’d have an actual sense of respect for her, if only her mere presence didn’t make her own son’s face fall like someone had taken his sweets from him.

But today she had her hair in bunches, and she impatiently took the little boy into her arms, and thanked you. “Tell your boss pick-up time’s 5 p.m. on the thirty-first,” she told you. “Or sooner, that’s fine too.”

As she walked away, you were in awe of how much she seemed like Jun’s type: sexy, but cute, and cool. She knew how to dress, for sure. You wrote down the pick-up time: 6 p.m., did she say? And tried to go back to work. You should clear his schedule on New Year’s Eve, but in the office it was still a work day, although the general consensus had decided to have a party in the office, going til midnight. You didn’t know if Jun wanted to stay, since usually he spent holidays with his son.

You see someone in flashy colors sashaying towards your desk, and erect your head, expectant.

“Heyyyyy!” It’s Arin, from the reception. “Guess what?” she says, bringing out the box she was hiding behind her back. “Look! You have a good boss.”

As you took the present and the card—where it was simply written ‘Merry Christmas, Y/n’ and nothing more, thank God because if you knew just how many drafts Jun went through—you leaned over the desk and into Jun’s office, where you saw a blur of his silhouette.

You unwrapped it messily, with as much expertise as you always have on the job, and out comes three bottles of perfume. You press the communications button to Junhui’s office. “I got the presents!”

“That’s great, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Jun!”

Minghao, in Jun’s office, watched as Jun got flustered, blinking the shock away. “You… you never call me that,” is what you hear over the speaker.

“Damn. When did he shop for these?” You press the button again. “When did you shop for these, Mr. Wen?! I’m meant to be doing your shopping!”

“Uh, just back in November!” The red light of the device wasn’t alight anymore, which meant the conversation was over. (Jun turned to Minghao in the office. “I may have done this in September, and also had a whole personal-shopper ensemble help me.”)

“So,” Arin says, sitting on your desk now, “you got your boss giving you gifts! What about that boyfriend of yours?”

“Guanhang?” Your expression turned a little sour. “He’s got a big family, so we went shopping for like, the six of them back in November, but he never got one for me? I figured he didn’t want to buy anything for me in front of me, but—oh, bye, Mr. Xu—” Jun and Minghao had come out of the office, as Jun parted from his best friend— “but I never woke up to presents. I mean, it’s only Christmas. I guess I can wait until he remembers?”

Arin grimaced. “Uh-uh. Today’s the deadline.”

“On Valentine’s day he just ate me out each night for the entire month and said that was his present,” you say quietly.

Arin laughed. She made a joke about cunnilingus or something or the other, which brings you to howl with laughter.

“I mean, it is a good gift, if only he didn’t pick the shortest month of the year to do it!” You’re about to go on about more of Guanhang’s antics when—

Jun’s shadow loomed over Arin’s figure, and sensing his presence, she moved over.

“Get back to work, please,” he told her. “Especially you, Y/n, your… work…” he fumbled over his words, before settling with: “is inadequate. And careless. And messy. I… expect better.”

You pouted up at him. Jun looked away before it could affect him more than he liked. “Back to work, please,” he repeated, “And Arin, your job is at the desk, which is like, thirty feet away.” The glass door to his office half-slams, particularly loudly that it sounded like it would shatter.

“Must be in a bad mood,” Arin adjudged. With a sigh, she just left the remaining files and letters designated towards you and Jun at your desk. “Text me about the boyfriend things, alright?”

Feeling sort of shamed (you sucked at your job and you didn’t like being reminded of it), you silently go through the files, not even unpacking Jun’s perfumes out of their boxes. When Jun asks of Hao later, you just tell him he’ll be home on New Year’s Eve, omitting the part where he has to be picked up.

“Mei.” Jun pretended to multitask, going over his documents while on the phone, but in truth he was getting nothing done. What a shitty day to come into work. “Mei, please. Don’t do this to me. Please bring him back home, at least.”

“Jun, I’m not going to drive to your apartment, there’s traffic and I have an appointment with someone! I literally told your assistant the pick-up time—Pick. Up. I never said I’d bring him. Didn’t she tell you?” Jun felt like kicking himself, he looked out the blinds into the street, and yes, absolutely there is traffic. They’re closing up roads for the city’s new year’s party, fireworks inclusive. “How useless is that secretary?”

“Of course she told me!" He snaps defensively. "I’m just busy all of a sudden. Can’t your parents drive him?”

“Papa just had cornea surgery, Jun. Mama has to be with him at all times.”

Jun hits himself. “Fine, fine, can you leave Hao with your parents, then? Just go to your party—we’ll pick him up at home.”

“It’s not a party, it’s an appointment.” But Jun heard heels clinking, sighs, yelling to her parents, a car door opening. “Fine. I’ll hear from you on Easter or something, then.”

Jun immediately pressed the button to call your desk in, before the call even ended. Soon enough, you’re walking in, taller than he remembers you, but he distracts himself from looking at you (it wasn’t healthy for him to look at you, he gets heartburn). “Could you pick my son up?” he asked. “Take my car. After that I swear you can take the day off, just come back to bring my keys b—”

His eyes finally land on you, and there’s silver sequins peeking out from under the blazer. He leans over the table, trying to look at your footwear: heels that made you taller than Mingyu from sales. “Um… is that for the party?”

“I’m going clubbing!” you answered. “With my boyfriend.”

Jun looked away from you. The sequinned dress was low-necked, distractingly so. “Alright, well… Hao’s usual sitter will be home, so you can just ring the bell.”

“I know the code to your door, anyway,” you say. “See ya, Mr. Wen!”

The New Year’s party was starting, with the attending employees taking advantage of every resource in the office: speakers blaring music, the main lights dimmed and LED lights strewn across the walls so carelessly it looked like they were there by accident; everything was a total mess. There wasn’t a reason to stay there anymore if he wasn’t celebrating, but Jun couldn’t leave: he needed his car.

It’s almost ten when you come back, and as much as it was long-awaited, it even felt unreal that you’d come back.

“Y/n!” He didn’t realize how his anxiety had crept up on him, even when concerning you—he knew Hao was safe home, but you were his main concern. Sort of weird, that it’d be that way. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

“Bad news,” you say as you come into his office, basically screaming over the music, “I barely escaped when I came, but they’re blocking every street around here for the parade.”

Jun stood over his tiptoes to see the state of the roads: the parades were already setting in, and the roads were blocked everywhere. The only other option would be to wait it out, until it’s past midnight and everyone is back home in their beds.

He sighed. “I think I’ll have to stay until the end of the party.” He pulled out his phone, urgently texting the babysitter.

But Jun immediately turned into his usual anxious character, not being able to get home at his son’s bedtime. He paced around the party, sometimes paying attention to the music, although it was just grating for him at some point, and, not wanting to return home drunk, refused all booze and decided to chaperone the party.

He finds you at the hard liquor corner, during his many rounds around the office. You’re leaned back and sipping out of a full bottle. Jun hasn’t drunk in a while, because hangovers and being drunk in general made him unable to parent. He knows moderation looks different to everybody, but you weren’t it.

“... all I said was he spends a comically high amount of time with that girl from work! And he’s like, you’re always tailing after Jun, and I’m like, yeah, that’s my job? And then he says, I'm not his girlfriend, I just live with him, he can do whatever he wants.”

You take another mouthful out of the straight bottle. “What’d you say?” Arin edges you on.

“Told him that’s rich coming from the guy that was balls deep in my—”

Jun cringes with scrunched and avoidant eyes, as he comes over to take the bottle away from you. Setting it down on a desk behind him, he notices that the people around had started to clear out, not wanting a chaperoning boss to ruin the fun. They rushed to the windows and the balcony.

“I thought you were going clubbing on your night off?” he asks you, standing two feet planted in front of you. You were holding yourself really horribly, and ended up resting your head on his stomach without a thought in your head. If you had thought it through, maybe you wouldn't have done it.

“Fight,” you explained. “With the guy I live with.”

“I see…” Jun tenderly combed his fingers through your hair, but only used it to pull your head off his stomach. “Well, I guess office party’s just as fun, huh?”

You snorted as a reply.

“Last sixty seconds, guys!” someone yells. They’d opened the windows so the sounds of the parade in the street were full-blown blaring distantly, and you were about forty stories up in the air, the night breeze blowing with a vengeful cold.

You’re tired, your feet hurt and you just wanted to collapse into your bed. Unable to hold yourself up any longer, you fall face-flat into his stomach, again. Your arms wrapped around him, as if you were imagining him as a body pillow.

You feel Jun still, and you almost think he’s just uncomfortable being so close to you, but then you… realize something.

You’re suddenly more awake than you were five seconds ago. You stand up, and there’s commotion—everyone’s crowding around the window, yelling the countdown as loud as their voices went. You look into Jun’s eyes. Sober, clean, worried.

“Do you think we can kiss, Mr. Wen?” you asked.

Jun stilled. Palms sweating, there was a moment where he swore his heart stopped, before he remembered how to breathe and regain all brain-control functions again. It might be what people call ‘skipping a beat’ meets ‘brain freeze’. “What?” he basically mumbled, unable to talk very loud, but you heard.

“We’re the only ones with no date,” you told him. “Everyone’s partnered up.” It was true, even people without dates had struck up deals for a new year’s kiss.

“It–it’s just not a good idea,” Jun stuttered.

“It’s a kiss for luck!” Every step you took towards him, Jun stepped back from you until his back hit a desk. Pouting, you add: “I want to have lots of luck next year.”

You must have had a lot of those schnapps and shots from the reception, Jun concludes, but too late: right after he takes the steps backwards, you had pulled him towards you by his tie. Hungry eyes, if he’d ever seen any. “Y/n,” he breathed out against your lips, which came close to him with every passing second, “we can’t.” You pull him in even closer, controlling him by the tie.

You do whatever the fuck you want when you’re drunk, Jun concludes. But it’s setting him into a full-blown panic. “Y–Y/n.”

The countdown starts, and you’re right—everyone’s gathered at the high-rise windows, looking at the parade under the office. No one’s looking back at you, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you were from the mere blue silhouettes of your bodies. At best, they’d just be able to see his white shirt. His entire body shrouded you.

Three!

You’re in every single part of Jun’s senses. He can smell you wearing the perfume he gave you, he can hear the low hum of your breath in his ears, he sees you, he sees the flimsy little dress with the spaghetti straps that keep dropping down to reveal more and more, he just…

Two!

He just has to taste you.

One!

He’s the one that takes the step to meet your lips, and now you’re kissing. You taste like soft cream and feel like good sleep. His tongue darts out, and you welcome it in your mouth.

Jun let out what he thinks is a sigh, but really was more of a moan, a sound that went unsuppressably past his throat and vibrated across your tongue. He thought you looked killer, the spaghetti straps of your dress would sometimes fall just a bit that he could see so much… flesh… from the side, but he won’t think about it, he won’t even look, he won’t be that pervert, the older guy that wants what he can’t have because you’re too shiny and spectacular and just the personification of a starry night, especially in this dress—and he can’t have you! He needed to get that through his head.

You had a boyfriend, you were literally about to go clubbing with him, you were taken, so what was he doing, what was he doing?

When he’s panting post-kiss, he doesn’t know if it’s the kissing making him breathless, or if it’s all his thoughts tiring him out.

“Wanna continue this?” you whispered to him, eyelashes hooding your expression. Jun doesn’t understand why you’d want to—yes, he wants to, but why do you—?

But he nods. He’s the one that grabs your hand, and walks over to his office, and you’re following him. Every time he told himself this was it and there’s no way you’d go further, you do. What the fuck.

The office is almost unrecognizable in the dark, with only the fireworks outside to light it up. You locked the door, and he realizes it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You push him against the window, and for a second you looked over his shoulder at all the fireworks. He watches them reflect in your eyes, and the sight of you is just haunting.

And then you’re kissing him, his hands are on you again, this time peeling the spaghetti straps off, feeling your bare shoulders, just the feeling of your skin—he hadn’t been with anyone in a long, long time, too busy with his son or work, and to finally have this–with the person he’d been pining for so long…

He almost rips the dress off you, but restrains himself. Your lips feel soft and healing against his own, and then they’re on his neck. He doesn’t even stop you to tell you you can’t leave hickeys–it doesn’t even occur to him. His nose is just buried in your hair, as you trail kisses down his chest—when did you even undo the buttons?—and, when he messes with the straps of your dress again, it just drops to the floor at your feet.

He doesn’t even have the chance to take your form in, in just your strapless bra and panties. You’re rubbing him over his pants, and he’s hard, he wants it, yes, but he’s also dead sober and he couldn’t even stay drunk on you that long.

“Wait,” Jun says, holding up his hand, perhaps to keep some distance from you. “You’re drunk, we can’t go that far.”

With a lick of your lips, you’re undoing his belt and flinging it over your shoulder. When you can’t kiss him the way you wanted, you simply pull him by the tie so he’s on top of you, pinning you down on his desk. You want to kiss, you want his hands on you again, but he’s hesitant, only coming where you pull him.

“Y/n,” he gasped. “Y/n, please—this is a lawsuit.”

You giggled. “I’ll sign an NDA, if you want.”

Jun sighed, heavily breathing. “That’s not the problem.”

But he wants you, and if you want him now, there isn't a choice but to give in. Your naked legs wrap around his waist, and he just trails his hands down them, until they reach your heel-clad feet. It’s so hot, the way he’s allowed you to entrap him.

Jun is fervently kissing down your chest, your bra pulled down, as he enters you. He’s so hard, so bothered, and wet with precum. So hot it could sizzle. You throw your head back and let out a pornographic moan, but he cups his hand over your mouth, wordlessly reminding you that you were only a wall separated from a whole party of people.

Jun hadn’t been this way with anyone in a long time. There had been dates from time to time, but never with someone he actually truly liked. Trembling, his hips stutter, so does his lips, which are moaning your name. He tries to be as quiet and composed as he could, but he feels like he might let the loudest grunt, alerting everyone outside. He bites down on his lip.

He hadn’t been doing this in a while. This makes him impossibly sensitive, and he might release, even if it’s just too soon. You sense it in the stutter of his thrusts and immediately slip off him, and he’s glad, because he knows he can’t cum inside you, but also it was embarrassing to have to tell you. You kneel in front of him, open-mouthed, and he could spasm from the mere sight, before you take him in your hands.

Jun hisses sharply. “Do you see how it’s so white, you were so wet around me—” He interrupts himself with a sharp inhale.

But you’re going slowly, as if you were inexperienced with your tongue, or just wanted to drag the torture out for him. Jun’s hand grip at the table behind him.

“Please,” he moaned. “It hurts.” When he reaches out to touch you it’s fervent, hot. You’re the only thing in the world that could ease the pain and quench the thirst. His hands wrap around your hair, although to him it’s more like you hair had come alive and entangled themselves all over his digits. Your mouth feels so—fuck!

He’s cumming down your throat. Jun whimpered as the sensation of you never truly left him, you take care of him. Until the last of it spills onto the carpet. And he’s just watching you through his eyelashes, tired and giddy. He speaks your name.

You look up for a moment, before your gaze turns towards the door. Someone else was calling your name.

“It’s Arin,” you observe carefully. “You should count to like, three minutes before you come out, maybe more. I’ll go first, okay?”

He wondered if you’ve done these things before, as you strutted outside. The lights were back on outside in the hallway, and he shrouded himself in the shadows, feeling embarrassed but not ashamed.

When he exits the office later, locking the door behind him, there’s a man at your desk, figure defined by a dark puffer coat over a pastel hoodie. “Sorry I missed the kiss,” he was saying.

“I got kissed already,” you told him, avoiding eye-contact.

Guanhang didn’t believe you one bit, especially when you couldn’t meet him in the eye. “Yeah?” he says. “Who was it?”

“Arin,” you say plainly. Guanhang laughs. He grabs your hand.

“Wanna go watch the parade? I’ll put you on my shoulders and everything.” He looked past you, and sees Jun, and offers a tight-lipped smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boss?”

“I don’t see why you’d need to, you’re just some guy I live with, right?”

You grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the elevator, but later Jun hears that Guanhang did put you on his shoulder to see the rest of the parade.

The second of January and business is back, you sit down at your desk after an uncomfortable subway ride and check a day’s worth of missed emails. When Jun comes to work, finally, you offer a smile, but don’t meet him in the eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Good morning,” he basically grunted, clearing his throat. He knew it was impersonal, but he didn’t want to say your name, because whenever he spoke your name there was an embarrassing adoration in his voice.

“I’ll get you your coffee,” you told Jun.

You’re beating yourself up while waiting for the order, and you pull out your phone. These were words you couldn’t literally say to him, but on text you felt brave, hiding behind a screen. Not having to read his expressions.

You: hi, i just wanted to tell you…

It’s immediately read, although he doesn’t reply. He's waiting for you.

You: if you can just forget everything! It would be cool

You: what happened that night, I mean

You: I can’t be doing this, I have a boyfriend

Mr. Wen: we can do that.

Mr. Wen: i’m sorry, by the way

You: don’t be.

You: I liked it

Jun tries to forget.

A few days after New Year’s was Jun’s European business trip, and you were glad you wouldn’t have to see him after all. And yet, sitting at your desk two feet away from the office where it all happened made you feel weird. As all your drunk escapades make you feel.

He’d been gone since Monday, and was due back today, to land in the evening. But as you check in with him, you find out his flight’s been delayed.

“There’s engine issues,” he told you. “I don’t know, fingers crossed I make it in time before Hao’s bedtime.”

But an hour later he called you in a panic. “Y/n, fuck—what do I—I don’t even—” When you ask him to tell you, slowly, he tries to calm down. “The babysitter! I told them my flight’s delayed, and she can’t stay all night—I don’t think my plane will land until dawn. Now she’s mad I’m demanding too many hours, because she stayed all night on New Year’s, too…”

You cringed, thinking about New Year’s night.

“I don’t know what to do, can you go to my apartment? I already called Seungkwan, and then I tried Joshua, but—”

“Of course I’ll do it!” you interrupt. “You can’t call your friends, they’re busy men… I’ve got nothing going on, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Jun sighed in relief. “You sure?”

You looked over at the make-shift dining room table in your apartment. Guanhang promised to be home for dinner, but he hadn’t come home at all. “Yeah,” you told him. “Just try to have a safe flight, okay?”

Hao’s crying, and the babysitter is panicking when you come into the apartment. You quickly explain the situation to her, and she’s soon excused, leaving you and the sobbing boy alone, but at least seeing you, who he associated with his dad, calmed him down a little.

“Your dad’s at the airport,” you explain to the little boy patiently. “You remember airports, right? You’ve been there with daddy?”

He pulls out a plane and asks if Jun is in a similar one, and you answer yes.

“But papa’s always here when I go to sleep,” Hao whined. “And I need someone to watch my back, so the monsters don’t creep up.”

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?” you asked. “Hey, why don’t we sleep in the master bedroom, huh? So you can surprise daddy when he’s home.”

Jun’s giant apartment actually had an office and three bedrooms, but the master bedroom was his, the other was Hao’s—with a little kid-sized bed—and he turned the third bedroom into a playroom, so guests were never expected. You decided once you put Hao to bed, you would go sleep on the couch in the living room, wake up and go home once Jun’s home, you get a day off, anyway.

Jun took a taxi back home. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours. He’d been microdosing on first-class flight champagne all night, and it only made him feel sleepy and unsharp. Plus, he’d been up for an entire day.

He’s stumbling into his apartment, not even taking his shoes off—if he sat down to do it, he’d fall asleep immediately—and only takes them off when he’s in his bedroom. He hears Hao’s little breaths and sniffles, and concludes he’s in his bed.

But when he turns to finally look, you’re there, too, lying on the blankets, not under them. You must have fallen asleep putting Hao to sleep…

Jun tucks you into bed, intending to keep you and Hao there and sleep in the living room, but he can’t deny the welcoming pliability of his bed, so he would just rest his head, on the familiar navy pillows, just a blink, just to shut his eyes…

When you wake up, it's because there’s something in your hand. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, to see that you were holding onto Jun’s hand, held over his sleeping son’s chest.

You flinch away, and with the rustle of the bedsheets, he’s awake.

You’d been sleeping, forehead to forehead and holding hands over the sleeping boy, like you were a family.

You murmur your apologies. He excuses you, and tells you you can keep sleeping for a bit, he’s going to take a shower anyway, he’ll make you and Hao breakfast and then you could leave.

You’re having this whole conversation still lying on the bed like a mom and dad, and he reached over, patting your head. Your hair’s messy, and still had clips in it, never having taken them off. He pets you as if you were something beloved—but you pulled away. Cleared your throat. “Um. You should go shower.”

He’s so tired he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, whole body running on autopilot until he wakes up watching the steam rise out of the showerhead. Jun lets the warm water rush all over his body, pitter-pattering over his closed eyelids and down his broad shoulder. He sighed. He’s travel-weary, and jetlagged, and everything sucked. And he was embarrassed, because of the way you had flinched away from his touch…

Suddenly he heard footsteps outside the bathroom, and despite the sounds of the water, he heard everything (damn you, expensive rich-people shower!).

“I was home until 10, and you’re the one that didn’t come home!” He realized you were screaming, and you were near the bathroom because you had to scream—it was the farthest from where Hao was sleeping, so a blindspot.

“Heng, I had work!”

“Don’t give me that work bullshit, how is there work at fucking midnight?!” Damn. He could hear it despite the call not being on speaker, and also through the sounds of the water. Guanhang could yell, for sure.

“There just was! I’m an assistant–I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry! I tried to call you last night—”

“Stop fucking calling me, then, fucking leave me alone!” You went quiet, which made Guanhang snap: “why aren’t you saying anything?!”

Jun hears you groan. He tries to tune it out, until at one point he can’t hear anything anymore. It must be over. Hao must still be asleep, although he bets not for long. Jun weighs his options, what he could make for breakfast for the three of you. He lets the warmth of the shower and the prospect of good food lull him into a another open-eyed nap.

Your whereabouts in the house were unknown to him, until he sees your figure enter the bathroom, through steam-mist shrouded silhouettes. He doesn’t say anything, letting you get ready on your own for the day—but you open the door to the shower.

Jun basically jumps back, but sees that now you’re in your tank top, the one you wore under your sweater, and… panties. His eyes don’t linger that long there.

“I wanted to shower, too,” you told him. He doesn’t say anything, half in shock, still tired. But he does watch everything, the way you peeled the pieces of clothing off of you so slowly, and then, under his gaze, felt strange and so cover your breasts with your arms. You look like a pin-up girl, which makes his brain chemistry go woah. You join him under the water, looking as if you didn’t even realize he was there, focused on wetting all of your hair, with closed eyes concentrated on the feeling of the water.

Can he touch you? Jun decided not to bet on it, and leaned back, watching you, dazed. He didn’t even understand what was happening.

You pull him in by the back of his hair, making him lean down to kiss you. As soon as that awkward seal broke, Jun’s on your skin, kissing your naked chest, trying to cover more ground than the water does. But you need his lips on your own, stat, so you yank his head up with a sharp, painful pull of his hair. He winces, but finds he likes the pain—like your coffee, everything you give him is sweet.

“This time you can cum inside of me,” you say raspily against his ears, which makes him feral, turning you around and pressing you up against the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a low growl, reminiscent of his days as a bachelor, before his ex, before Hao. He felt like he was just dripping in that youth again, being inside of you.

It doesn’t occur to him how weird it was. Why would you not even let him pat you on the head, but kiss him naked in the shower? Of course, he came to a conclusive construct in the end: Guanhang. Every time your own boyfriend disappointed you, you came to him.

The next morning, right before he set out to drive to work, came the text:

(2) New messages from Y/N

Forget about yesterday, please

I feel really bad. We shouldn’t have.

Jun would wait. Until Guanhang makes you feel unneeded again, he would wait. He didn’t see it as taking advantage of your sadness—in fact, it was a sadness mutualism. He was there for you when you felt down, and he… Well, he was always sad. You made it worse when you left, but when you were around it felt like heaven.

Guanhang spends nights out, and you wanted to limit your meetings with Jun to just that, but sometimes, you’d take his car to his apartment, fuck, and then he’d drop you off, right before Guanhang comes home from work or whatever he does. You never get caught—Guanhang doesn’t expect you back so quickly. There were nights you spent completely at his apartment, where you’d talk more than you’d fuck, and also play house with Hao, like a little family, and Jun’s never had that, that he begins to actually fool himself. He knows it’s insane, of course, but sometimes between sleepover nights and making you breakfast, he wishes you were Hao’s mom. He thought he’d given up on that a long time ago, but you made him revisit what it feels like to be young and in love.

At the office, you act naturally. You never even show half a glimmer of interest in him, you do your job. No one catches on. Your acting was genuinely convincing, that he’d wonder if you even liked him at all, but once work is over and he’s driving you back, you’re all over him.

He knows, of course, that it all depended on Guanhang, agonizingly so—you only paid attention to Jun when Guanhang wasn’t paying attention to you. And sometimes Jun gave you presents here and there, shopping trips and premium subscriptions—and one time you wanted to give Guanhang a video game as a present, so you siphoned off Jun’s money for that. He knows it’s wrong, you’re stringing him along, but sometimes he knew no better. He chose to know no better.

“She’s just a user,” Minghao told Jun when he finally admitted to it. “If she only comes to you when her boyfriend has off-days, I’m sorry, she’s a user. Nothing more to it.”

Jun knew you didn’t love him, of course, but it’s hard to imagine you completely indifferent to him. You were nice when you’re together.

“Either way,” Minghao says, “It’s a dangerous game. What if she extorts you?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“She has a boyfriend, what if he finds out and blackmails you?!”

Jun admitted to the possibility, but told Minghao not to worry. He was willing to go down for you, although he didn’t dare admit it to his friends.

But Jun let you in every time you knocked, until you became as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

“I’m taking Tuesday afternoon off,” Jun says as he lazily thrusts into you, “We’re trying to get Hao into one of those high-end nursery schools, next year.” He moved in you, and it’s tight and wet, but for you it just feels full, with no movement. You feel a little crazy.

If you weren’t trying so hard to cum, maybe you could have made a joke about how high-end nursery schools can be. But you just nod, peeking at him through scrunched eyes. “Uh-huh!” you squeaked. He’s moving again, and you throw your head back and moan.

“I think I’ll need you there,” Jun says. “I mean, I’ll need to look important and be hands-on, it’s nice to have an assistant there.”

You shiver around his cock, he’s moving but only minimally, and you need the full violent, bottom-out-and-thrusting-in action. You whine.

“Y/n? Are you getting this? I’ll meet you at the office, alright?”

You simply groan, pushing him back and trying to find… whatever was the pussy equivalent of ‘footing’. You try to gain leverage on the desk behind you and bounce, fucking yourself on his cock, and it’s still not enough.

Jun laughs. You are not getting it. You’re basically going feral from the withheld orgasm. Giving you what you wanted, he goes faster, and you nearly scream, gripping onto his white oxford in bunches, lewdly bouncing on his cock. “Want me to touch you?” he questioned, and you nod vehemently. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

There must be like 20 kids running around at this party. (“oh my god, triplets!” you whispered to Jun as you first stepped into the garden) Hao’s shy, and wants his father to carry him, preferably back into the car, but Jun refuses, making him walk. He doesn’t cry to protest, which is what you love so much about Hao. “Go play with Hoon,” Jun suggests, dropping to his knees to talk to his son. He pointed the familiar little face out. “Go on, make new friends!”

“He’s a bit like you,” you told Jun as Hao wandered off into the playpens.

Jun turned to you, curious. “How so?”

“He’s shy, but… he makes it work.” You’re back on your phone again, double-checking your boss’s schedule, checking all mail, confirming meeting times and topics. Jun waits for you on a bench until he couldn’t anymore.

He snatches the phone from you. “Work later,” he says. “I’m just like Hao, and I need you to be tailing me at all times so I can have a sense of security.”

“A false sense of security,” you say. “Wait, security from what?”

“The parents’ committee…”

So you’re the one that meets the fear-striking bunch of parents, rich trust fund kids breeding more trust fund kids, whose only purpose was to take care of their children. They might be problematically prideful and impossibly picky, but they made up for it by having an overly welcome demeanor. The triplets’ mother led the committee and also the waitlist to the nursery school, and as you pointed Hao out to her, she gushed over how cute the little guy was. Jun stands demurely behind you, not even accepting the compliment himself.

“He really is a sweet boy,” says the woman, “well it’s no wonder, when his parents are so cute!”

Jun looked at you, wanting to cut in, but he never speaks soon enough, and you’re the one that goes: “thank you!” with a grin. He doesn’t say anything anymore after that.

It’s winter, and when the party’s over the sun had set. Hao’s extra tired, from climbing up walls and running around with the other kids. When you look back at him, a few minutes after having strapped him into his little child seat, he’s out like a light. “He’s kaputt,” you informed Jun.

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Good… hey, I mean, when they thought you were his mom—”

“I hope you don’t mind!” you say. “I just… didn’t want to go through the whole I’m-actually-his-assitant and then they ask where the mom is and then the whole divorce story…”

“I’m actually grateful.” Jun’s lips are tightened but upturned in a little :] smile. “I… never like talking about his mom.” You nodded. After a few minutes of silence, he goes: “well, I mean, if they ask next time where his mom is, and you’re not there…”

“Of course I’ll be there!” you put a hand over his thigh, and squeeze. “Maybe you can keep saying that, I’m gonna be with you guys for a while, aren’t I?”

Jun’s the one that carries his son out of the car and into the apartment, and you follow him upstairs—he promised to make you dinner. As you get into the elevator, you text Guanhang you’ll be eating somewhere else, if he cares.

Guanhang: Where? Maybe I can join you

You: just somewhere with the girls from the office :) girls’ night?

You look up from your phone as little Hao wakes up, cheeks puffy against Jun’s shoulder. “Y/n,” he says sleepily.

“Hey, little guy. We’re home.”

“You’re home,” Hao says with a yawn, and maybe he just said it because he was half-asleep, but you stop in your tracks. You realize you’d been spending more time at your boss’s house than you do in Guanhang’s apartment.

You ran Hao a bath, and you and Jun bathed the little guy together, complete with bathbombs and bath toys. There’s sand from the garden everywhere in his scalp, which you patiently wash off.

“I want Y/n to be my mommy,” Hao says as you gently wet his hair, occasionally dunking him, which he’s patient to.

You let out a laugh, it was just awkward and you didn’t know what to say, how to parent.

You’re not the parent though, and Jun took the little boy into his arms, growing sterner. “Hey, you don’t say things like that, okay?”

“Why not?” the little boy pondered.

“Well, because she’s still young and she might not like—I mean, son, listen, motherhood—I mean, it’s just—you’re cute, don’t worry, you’re the cutest thing ever, but—you can’t just say that to everybody you like!”

“I don’t say it about everybody,” Hao says. “I just say it about y/n!”

You offer a tight-lipped smile, and Hao’s still not done: “I looove y/n. I like her more than mama. Mama’s mama, and Y/n is mommy!”

“I didn’t teach him that,” Jun says quietly. “I swear, I did not teach him that.”

Later when he sends you home, he’s still apologizing profusely. And then, he lights up with a smile. “It’s good he likes you, isn’t it?”

You shrugged. “I mean… yeah. I like that Hao likes me, it’s part of my job.”

Jun presented a little promise ring, a silver band encrusted with diamonds. Minghao sighs. “You cannot be…”

“It’s for Y/n!”

“I thought she wanted no strings attached?” probed Minghao.

Jun frowned, thinking deeply about it. “But…” he sounded as innocent as his own son as he said it, “we’ve come far enough that we can define our relationship. You don’t know what she told me.”

“What?”

“She said, she’ll be here with me and Hao. For a long time.”

“Jun,” Minghao says, sighing, “don’t… don’t do this to yourself or little Hao. Don’t play with someone that obviously doesn’t care about your feelings.”

“I don’t know, Minghao,” Jun sighed. “I think this might be it. I feel like she could… be in my life. Permanently.”

“She’s a user!” Minghao pointed out. “If she comes to you whenever her boyfriend lets her down, and takes advantage of you and your money because you’re needy with a kid, she’s a bad person.”

“She’s never asked for anything from me,” Jun says sadly. “I think you’re wrong.”

“She never denies your gifts, either.”

“Why would she refuse something I’ve already bought her?”

Minghao groans, head in his hands, his friend was not getting it—he’s just not getting it! “Listen,” he told Jun, “you are not asking someone that flaky for a real relationship. You won’t like what you get.”

“Why—”

“She’s still living with a guy!”

“You’re right,” Jun says. He sinks back down into his chair. “I’ll just ask her to move out, first.”

Minghao throws his hands up in the air and lets out the most strangled groan he’s ever made his entire life.

Jun can’t pop the question. It’s hard to just ask someone about their lovelife, even someone he considers to be as close as you. Of course he, with his small circle and busy life, thought you were close, and you knew everything about his life, but did you consider the same of him? He didn’t even know so much about you.

Plus, you never talk about your feelings. The only time you’d ever come close to that were the times where you talked about Guanhang, times when he eavesdropped, just to know what it’s like to be someone you loved, except it wasn’t him, and he could never imagine it being him.

So he thinks that’s where he should start: Guanhang. If you loved him, then you must hang onto him, and if he gets a straight answer about it then he’ll stop the pining. Plus, it would mean he has no chance.

He picked an evening where you were in your feelings. The sky’s a certain shade of blue, from all the citylights polluting the darkness, and it would never dim; you rolled down your side window and stared out, sometimes enjoying the velocity breeze but he just kept getting stuck in traffic, so the car was often still. “Y/n,” he says quietly, voice almost blending in with sounds of the city, “how’s Guanhang?”

“Oh, you mean the guy I live with?” you snort. You rolled your window up so you could hear him better. “He’s fine. Now that he’s taken up a second job we have less time to fight.”

“Do you love him?”

You gasp. “What?”

“Do you even believe in love?” Jun wondered. “I feel like you don’t really act that way.”

“I didn’t use to,” you answered honestly. You sounded so wise to him, he’d never heard you this way before. “But… one day, you know, Guanhang works at a studio, and I listened to one of the stuff he produced—there were like, 30 guys singing on a backtrack, but I knew immediately when his voice was in it. I could just recognize it.”

Jun’s heart clenched in his chest, and if he weren’t driving he’d double over. He hadn’t had his heart broken in so long… not since his broken engagement.

“And,” you say, “one night, Guanhang ‘borrowed’ his friend’s car and we went out of the city, to stargaze. We just had the radio to listen to, so we spent the entire ride driving past the suburbs screaming the lyrics to every song we knew. It was like a competition—and then, at one point, I stopped screaming. I just listened to him. I realized then that’s what love is? If that makes sense? Love is shutting up while you’re singing in the car because you want to hear their voice. And that’s the day I said it. ‘I love you.’ I’ve never said it to anybody before in my life.”

You looked over at Jun. “But now he’s just some guy I live with.”

Well, that wasn’t a straight answer. But he knew he could never ask you now. Guanhang was someone you’d always want to hang onto. With his ex, it had been black-and-white, she didn’t want him and he gave up. But Guanhang was always going to string you along, and he… knew he couldn’t compete. He’d never felt good enough for love, ever since his ex and the wedding debacle.

There’s a letter of resignation on his desk, a few days after that night. You had been growing cold towards him, nights where you slept over grew seldom and seldom until you just stopped. But you give him his coffee every day still, perfectly, even, without spillage, and it always tastes just as sweet, as sweet as only you could make it.

So it’s a shock to him as he read the letter, right in front of your eyes. “Why?” he demanded. He got so fired up he started speaking mandarin. “Wèishéme?!”

“I just…” you say, blinking tears away, “I just can’t do this anymore, and seeing you every day at work like we aren’t something is just...”

“Is it Guanhang?” he demanded.

“No,” you say. “No, I just… I just want positions I deserve. And I feel like I got here because… you liked me.”

“You’re here because I like the way you work,” Jun insisted. You don’t believe him. “No, I—I had this assistant that would color-code everything with custom stickers, but they were all pastel and I basically turned colorblind trying to read them, I had another guy assistant that kept asking questions and making me confirm everything myself, I had this other intern, right before you, that took pictures of me and Hao because he wanted to put it on his blog—Y/n, you’re great. I like that you don’t overcomplicate your systems, you sometimes spill things and trip and fall, but I don’t mind. It’s small flaws I never even saw—I didn’t hire you because of some… sexual ulterior motive. I like you. I like the way you work first, and then I just… fell for the rest of you.”

You looked conflicted, you watch him through your eyelashes. “I want to transfer,” you say, resolute but soft enough. “To Mr. Choi’s company—you know I’m more into that line of work, it’s what I studied. I just think a position there might be better.”

Jun tries to convince you to stay, but he was never a believer in his own self.

You leave, two months later, after treating him just like a stranger whose schedule was the only thing you knew about him.

Jun still has the promise ring, and it’s always somewhere in his pocket, although he hopes that one day he could just lose it, more or less accidentally, but the little velvet box always stayed somewhere in the pockets of his coats or trousers. He didn’t even know why it mattered to him, it’s not like you’d even touched it in your entire life. And yet… when he holds it in his hands, it feels to him like that sweet daydream that never became reality—he never got to touch it, but still, it’s so vivid.

Hao keeps asking why you’re not around, and Jun never knows how to answer. He explains the concept of resignation to the little boy, patiently, and Hao sort of begins to get it.

“So Y/n’s somewhere? In this city? And we just can’t see her?”

It’s supposed to be spring, but the wind still blows harsh and northern like the middle of winter, and it reminds him of you, because all the months you’d worked for him were so cold. He remembers you in your little trenchcoats and woolen things, trying to text with a smart glove on…

“Do you want to see her?” Jun asked Hao. “Maybe we just pay a little visit, for the last time?”

So him and his son are parked in front of the complex he always dropped you off, and he presses the bell for 3A, which you shared with Guanhang. When it buzzes in, Jun takes the little boy on his shoulders.

Guanhang’s waiting at the door, not knowing what he’s being visited for. “We just wanted to see Y/n,” Jun says, awkward because that was his rival he was talking to. “The little guy missed him, is it okay if he—”

“Y/n moved out,” Guanhang says plainly. “A month ago.”

But that was when you resigned. “Do you—know where?”

“That receptionist friend she had,” Guanhang says. “Moved in with her. I don’t fucking know. Don’t look at me like that, I tried to make her stay, too.” The door slams.

Jun calls the personnel office in his car with the engine on, as Hao swings his little legs on the seat. This was a revelation to him—you ended it with Guanhang, and even with him, and everything’s just so clear to Jun, now: you wanted things you deserved. You were starting over. You wanted to work for things yourself. He just wanted you back in his life, he wasn’t bad for you, he would prove it.

The phone comes through. “Hey! Good evening, it’s Jun—I just need to know where Choi Arin lives.”

“For something good, like a bonus, I hope,” replies the man working at the office.

Arin lives in another complex, closer to work this time. The apartment was on the third floor, and Jun climbed the stairs with Hao on his shoulders, once again, only for Arin to come out and tell him you didn’t live there anymore.

“It was just temporary,” she said. “She wanted a real place she could rent—I think Mr. Jo from security hooked her up with a free space in his flat.”

“Hey, Jun again… could you give me the address of Jo from security?”

He doesn’t know which floor you lived on, or even which side of the terrace. He tries door after door, and nice ladies here and there wanted to accompany him for the rest of the search. Then another man wants to see it through, too, and Jun entrusts that his son was grabbing the tail of his coat at all times, following him.

He’s gathered a bunch of people following him when he arrives at the new side of the terrance. He almost loses the motivation to go around asking a whole neighborhood if they knew you, when…

He could hear music, faintly coming from a ground-floor window. He followed it, knowing the melody well—you would hum it all the time, it was your favorite.

He knocks on the door it leads him to.

You come out with a bowed head, and you’re more beautiful than he remembers, although you looked even more tired. If you were living here but working at Seungcheol’s company, you must be waking up so early just to make it there at 9 a.m. Jun reaches out to touch you, as if he had been fooled and you’re just a mirage.

“Y/n!”

You extend your arms to the little boy, and he climbs up. Your laughter is light. “Hao! What are you guys—Jun? What is this?”

He doesn’t know how to start this. He fumbled around with the pockets of his paddington coat, and there were just too many pockets. After going through each of six pockets twice and coming up with just stray used tissues and car keys, he checks his pants, and there it was. He pulls out the little velvet box; a bunch of people gasp. You just mumble, “he wouldn’t.” But you don’t know if he would.

But there is a ring, although at closer inspection you notice it’s not for engagements. A simple promise ring, which you putt out to inspect, and ‘1.1. 00:00’ is engraved on the inside.

Your first kiss. You look up at him, and just when you’re about to speak, Mini-Wen wraps his arms around you. “Missed you, Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Jun starts, “I just—I—I wanted to ask you to be mine. But I was just—I was just afraid. I’ve had this phobia against relationships ever since Hao’s mom left me, and…” (the crowd ‘aww’ed) “I was afraid of getting close to someone again, if they might break my heart, and well, you did–you did, you left. But… I found out it doesn’t even matter. I’m happy to be loving you and getting my heart broken by you. I think you’ve got your fair share of broken hearts, too, but if you trust me—” you’re looking up at him with a brand new look in your eyes. He falters, splutters, as he always did when you look at him. “I can promise you I’ll always be here for you. I’ll keep your place for you, I’ll always protect you, I’ll—”

With Hao still in your arms, you step in and kiss Jun. For a second he forgets to close his eyes, and he just watches you, lips sinking into his. He knows exactly what he feels for you, except he’s just too scared to say what it is.

“Did my speech move you into kissing me?” He murmured against your lips.

“No, but there’s just too many people watching I felt the need to perform.”

Hao plants a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly you and Jun are kissing him back, on each cheek—Jun had imagined showing his son love with this, but it was only you that made it possible.

He brings you and Hao closer into him, warm and padded inside his coat.

“I think I was too preoccupied to tell you on New Year’s,” Jun says. “I hope you have a good year, Y/n.”

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the-authoress-writes · 8 months

Text

Dangerous Games

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Navy Nurse Wife!reader

Synopsis: The saying goes “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”.

Well, Mrs. Thomas Kazansky is about to learn another version of this saying; “Play dangerous games, win dangerous prizes”.

But she doesn’t exactly mind.

Warnings: Mrs. Kazansky gets a little frisky in public, but nothing explicit, some cursing, and a little bit of steaminess, but again, nothing explicit.

Author’s Note: “I don’t write reader fic”, she said.

“I really don’t”, she said.

But here we are.

And I entirely blame both @valmare and Val himself.

I wrote this as a writing exercise, actually, because @valmare and I have slightly different approaches to Tom Kazansky; she has a more dominant take on him, while mine is more romantic and soppy, but no less passionate (I think).

I wrote this just to see if I could somehow combine both traits/takes in one story.

And… hoo, boy, I like to think I was successful.

That, combined with reading one of my grandmother’s ancient Silhouette Romance novels, I thought it was about time that the turns were tabled on the men.

Let’s be the ones to snap them like twigs, and not the other way around.

Without further ado, here we are!

“So what’s on the agenda today,” she asked her husband, as he sat at the kitchen counter eating his breakfast, while she stood on the other side, finishing her cup of yogurt, before she had to head to work for the shift she was called to fill in at the last minute yesterday.

“Well,” Tom began, after swallowing, “not much, just a meeting which apparently couldn’t wait until Monday, in the afternoon—other than that, nothing else really.

And uh, Mav and the guys are coming back home tonight; like I said last week, Sli and I were going to greet them, and they’re going out for drinks at the O Club later, but I can tell them I can’t go—”

“No, you go, enjoy yourself, I know it’s been a while since you last saw Mav and the flyboys,” she smiled.

In a rare occurrence, Mav and Tom’s deployments didn’t match up, leaving him and Slider on shore, while Mav and Merlin, Wood and Wolf were at sea.

She could hear the calls Tom would make in the evenings to the Vinson, to the various officers who owed him, already rather influential at the recently-received rank of Lieutenant Commander, for updates on Mav in particular.

She’d heard the stories both from the man himself, and from Tom, how the Mitchell name hung like an albatross around the diminutive pilot’s neck, how his basic medical needs were overlooked by dint of his “traitorous” surname.

As a nurse, especially a Navy nurse, it was beyond unconscionable.

She was glad that Mav had Tom as a friend, and it touched her to see the care he extended to his whole TOPGUN class.

“Such a Mother Goose,” Mav and Slider would say, both with sadness, but the former with a soul-deep sadness.

“Are you sure, milaya?” Tom’s voice brought her back to the present, as he came around the counter to step into her personal space, his hands on her waist, infusing her whole being with the warmth that only he could give her. “Because I’m really feeling bad that I have basically a whole day off, and you have to work.

We could have a movie night with some popcorn and ice cream, and you can talk about how people like me are the craziest sons of bitches around,” he grinned, referring to how they met a little over three years ago, after a little training mishap. “I’ll gladly keep your misery company.”

She smiled, resting her hand on the chiseled plane of his bare chest, as her index finger idly played with the chain of his dog tags, “No, like I said, even last week, you go and enjoy yourself with the boys.” Her smile took on a more devilish quirk, “Besides, you can make it up to me later.”

Tom raised an eyebrow, “Oh, I can, can I?”

“I’m pretty sure you’ll manage,” she teasingly replied.

“Uh-huh,” he breathed, stepping impossibly closer, “and how exactly do you want me to make it up to you?”

“You’ll think of something.”

“How about a little down payment, then?”

He didn’t even bother waiting for her positive, always positive, response before one hand was buried in her hair, and his lips were on hers.

It was a kiss full of the easy confidence of a man who knew he was given what he took, and the passion and devotion of one who knew what a gift that was.

She could have gotten lost in her husband’s embrace and kiss for eternity, but the rude realization that she had a shift to prepare for, made her reluctantly, oh-so-reluctantly, push him away.

“As much as I’d really love to continue this, I can’t.

I have to go.”

He pouted like a child, the effect amusing to see on his already-full, kiss-swollen lips, and she gently carded her hand through his hair, soft and slightly curling without the gel, pushing it away from where it flopped onto his forehead. “I know most of this day didn’t pan out how we wanted it to, but we’ll make the best of it—we always do.”

“I know.

You’re sure it’s okay with you if I go out with the boys tonight?”

“Yes, Tom, how many times do I have to tell you?

Go have fun—but not too much fun,” she smiled.

He leaned forward, tucking his head into her neck, inhaling deeply, “You’re the only one I want to have fun with.”

“I would hope so, Thomas Vasilyevich,” she replied, lightly poking him in the side, “seeing as I’m your wife.”

“Oof,” he mock-winced, drawing back to look her in the eyes, “Russian naming me, huh?

Well, Mrs. Kazanskaya, two can play at that game,” he rejoined, leaning in to kiss her again.

However, she pushed him away, laughing, “You are a menace, Thomas Jacob Kazansky!

I have to go!”

“Worth a shot,” he laughed, letting her go.

She gathered her lunch into her bag, along with her paperwork, and shouldered the tote, before turning back to face Tom, who was leaning against the counter, long, sweatpants-clad legs crossed at the ankles, mirroring his arms, a knowing smirk on his lips. “Not going to kiss me goodbye?”

With a sigh, she asked, “If I kiss you goodbye, will you keep your hands to yourself?”

He clicked his tongue, “You drive a hard bargain, lyubimaya moya, but I’ll try.”

“Don’t try, just do,” she replied, amending one of Mav’s favorite sayings, stepping closer to peck him on the lips.

True to his word, he didn’t move an inch, but the regret on his face made her have to resist the temptation to kiss him and say to hell with her shift today. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

And here, a sudden idea struck her. “Hey, wait a minute, you said that you guys were going to the O Club, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, drawing out the syllable. “Why?”

“Because I was thinking that if I can, maybe I can meet you guys there, join you flyboys.”

Tom’s eyes lit up. “That’d be great!”

“You guys won’t mind?”

“I won’t mind,” he shook his head.

She good-naturedly rolled her eyes, “I know you won’t mind, what about the guys?”

“I’m sure the guys won’t mind, but they can take it up with me if they don’t like it.

Try to make it?”

“I will—hopefully, I’ll see you later.

And you’re sure you don’t need your other girl today?” she asked, double checking that he didn’t need his Chevelle, since her car was in the shop that week.

“No,” he shook his head, “Slider’s picking me up, you take her.

I love you, milaya.”

“I love you too.”

With that farewell, she dashed out the door, fleeing her own house like Lot, because she knew she’d never leave if she looked back at Tom.

Chaos.

That was what her shift at NMCSD was like.

Some unlucky or hapless person somewhere had probably said “It sure is quiet around here,” or some other variation of that phrase, and brought the wrath of the medical gods down upon them.

She’d had no less than ten emergencies to deal with, and at the end of her shift, she felt—no—knew—she deserved a drink.

A quick glance at her watch showed that it was just before 1800–from her experience, the carriers usually docked at 1500 or 1600, which meant they should all be at the O Club already.

Not wanting to give the charge nurse an opportunity to call her for something else, she practically ripped off her uniform, changing into the nicer spare clothes she kept in her locker just in case she had somewhere to be that wasn’t the grocery or straight home.

It was a worn, but well-fitting pair of jeans, sensible shoes, a tank top, and finally, a white buttondown with vertical blue stripes which she pilfered from Tom’s closet, that she never saw him wear.

After throwing on the shirt, leaving it unbuttoned, and tucking in her tank, she hastily walked (okay, ran) out of NMCSD, and headed to her parking spot.

God had mercy on her, as the traffic was light all the way to the O Club, the Almighty surely knowing that she’d reached her limits of bullshittery, that all she wanted after this day was a stiff drink, and her husband’s company, despite the fact that there would be others around, friends as they were to her.

It was a Saturday night, and the parking lot was full, but she managed to find a spot on the far end of the lot, a slight sheen of sweat breaking on her skin despite the AC, as she maneuvered in, not wanting to scratch her husband’s beloved car.

The flaring, insistent ache in her feet was testament to the long walk to the entrance, exposing just how many people had to be here, and true enough, once she pushed the doors open, the bar was hopping.

She moved through the crowded bar, searching for Merlin, Slider, or Tom—there’d be little hope of finding Wood or Wolf, and no hope of finding Mav, in this press of people.

She was heading through the crowd towards the bar when she smacked straight into someone.

An apology was on her lips, when the person turned, and she heard, “Hey, Mrs. Ice, how are you!”

And she looked up, up, up into the smiling face of Sam “Merlin” Wells.

“Hey, Merls, how are you, how was deployment?” she said, hugging the ludicrously tall RIO.

“Ehh, hot, as usual, but otherwise, uneventful; just running our CAPs, and buzzing the tower every now and then.”

She guffawed, “That’s Mav for you—I don’t know who’s crazier; Mav, or you, for willingly sitting in the same jet as him.”

Merlin leaned down, “Tell you a secret?”

“Sure.”

“Probably me, because I actually enjoy it,” he murmured.

She chuckled, “Oh, Samuel, never change.”

“Hey, what am I doing, let me get you to the guys’ table!

Come on!!”

He put his hand on her shoulder to make sure she didn’t get lost in the crowd, and led her to a table in the back. “Guys, look who I found!”

“Well, hey, if it isn’t my favorite Ice Queen!” Mav cried, leaping to his feet and pulling her into a hug.

“Hey, Mav, how are you?” she beamed, glad to see her husband’s best friend and wingman.

“Better, after seeing your pretty face,” the black-haired pilot grinned a grin which would probably make quite a few people here swoon, if its full force were turned on them.

She smacked his shoulder, though she was unable to stop her smile, “Stop it, you incorrigible flirt, you’re not my type, and even if you were, I’m very happily taken.”

“Ah, you wound me, my fair Ice Queen,” Mav dramatically clutched his chest.

“You’ll live,” she teasingly rolled her eyes.

“Mind getting your hands off my wife, so I can say hello to her, Mav?”

A glance behind Mav showed Tom standing there, a sight in his summer whites, an arch expression on his face, but those who knew him would be able to see the glowing humor in his eyes—but over all, the joy and love.

Mav moved aside, gesturing grandly at her. “All yours.”

“You bet your ass, Mitchell,” Tom nodded.

“Excuse me, I have a very nice ass, I have that on good authority,” the other pilot affrontedly stated as he walked backwards to his seat.

The voice of Charles “Chipper” Piper called, “Ugh, come on, Mav, no one wants to hear about your pasty ass.”

“You’re one to talk, Chip,” Marcus “Sundown” Williams chuckled.

Tom shook his head and stepped closer, making everything else fade into the background, his beautiful smile on his face. “You came.”

“I needed to,” she sighed, “I need a drink.

And the whole you being here is a nice bonus.”

He blushed slightly, ducking his head. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, come on, let’s get you that drink,” he replied, leading her to the table, around which sat Mav, Merlin, Slider, Wolf, Chipper, and Sundown.

“Hey guys,” she waved, taking the seat beside Tom.

They all greeted her as Tom called over one of the waitresses, ordering his usual vodka on the rocks along with her usual Old Fashioned.

When it arrived, she shocked them all by drinking more than half of it in one sitting, heavily setting the glass down on the table.

“That kind of day, huh, sweetheart?” Tom asked, his voice full of sympathy, warmth, and the slightest hint of laughter.

She turned a baleful look on him. “What do you think?”

He blinked, obviously weighing his words, the rest of the flyboys holding their breath. “I think maybe I should get you another one when you’re done with that.”

“God, I love you, Tom Kazansky,” she breathed.

The table collectively exhaled, as Tom grinned. “Aren’t I lucky?”

The night wore on, dinner eventually being ordered from the bar’s kitchen for everyone, and Merlin was the first to leave, saying that his wife was coming home late that night from taking care of a medical emergency with her mother, who lived on the other side of the States, and he wanted to be there to greet her.

The flyboys tossed peanuts teasingly at Merlin, Chipper and Mav whooping, Merlin flipping them the bird with both hands as he laughed, and said goodnight.

The remaining group continued on, and the vodkas Tom had drunk had loosened him up—he wasn’t drunk by any means, but his laughter was a bit louder, his eyes a bit brighter.

He was telling a story about one of the instructors from the TOPGUN session he’d been asked to help out with, since he wasn’t deployed this rotation.

It was a story she’d already heard, and so she allowed his words to fade slightly, just watching him as he spoke, fiddling with the straw of the second Old Fashioned Tom had ordered for her.

She smiled as he gestured animatedly, making the light glint off the gold ring on his left hand, which matched the one on hers.

Seeing it did funny things to her stomach, seeing the tangible proof that that man was hers.

Add to that the fact that Tom was in his summer whites… it was a cocktail more intoxicating than anything the bar behind her could ever offer.

She exhaled evenly, taking a sip of the water she’d switched to after her second Old Fashioned, admiring the figure he cut, an exemplar of US Naval excellence.

If you asked her later, she wouldn’t be able to tell you why she did it.

But the devilish thought of wanting to see if she could tilt him off-kilter entered her mind regardless, and she hid a smile behind the rim of her water glass.

She nonchalantly shifted her chair closer to Tom and innocently placed a hand above his knee, making him glance at her, and offer her a fleeting smile, while continuing the story.

Ever so carefully, she inched her way towards the inseam of his trousers, rubbing small circles as she went, which got her a minuscule narrowing of his eyes and a barely-there glance as he spoke.

She smiled back, stilling her hand, and he continued.

Once he had relaxed into his chair again, she began moving again, shifting her hand higher and higher, letting her fingernails catch repeatedly on the seam.

He cleared his throat and soldiered on, shifting in his seat, but the slightest tone of strain was beginning to creep into his voice now, and she mustered all the stoicism she’d learned from her husband to keep her face straight.

As her hand moved further up his inseam, she was treated to the sight of his jaw tensing, the sheen of sweat gathering at his temples, the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed thickly, the sound of the strain in his voice, and the hitch in his breath.

She knew that if she continued this, she was playing a very dangerous game, but she couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment.

So she inched further up, letting her fingernails dig into the seam, flicking it almost audibly, which elicited a cough from her husband.

Slider whacked Tom on the back, saying, “You okay, Ice?”

“Yeah,” he rasped, “just—just swallowed the wrong way.”

At this point, she was mere inches away from being so obscenely high on his thigh that the other flyboys would probably see, but just to see what Tom’s reaction would be, she made as though she were going to go there.

Smoothly, he placed his hand atop hers, somehow managing to conceal the fact that he had plucked her hand from basically his lap, bringing it up to his lips as he finished the story, his eyes stormy as he cut his gaze to her.

Maybe, she realized, as she looked into his tempestuous eyes, maybe she had made a very, very big mistake.

After another hour, they began to wrap up, hugging and slapping each other on the back, and for the first time since she’d met Tom Kazansky, she was not looking forward to being alone with him.

When the final farewells had been spoken, Tom wrapped an arm around her shoulder, walking them towards the distinct shape of his Chevelle, visible now that they were some of the last people at the bar.

“I can drive us, if you want,” she offered, testing the waters.

“No, I’ll be the one.

Keys.”

His tone was unreadable, and she fished the keys out of her pocket, handing them to him.

He led her to the passenger’s side, but just before she reached for the handle to open the shotgun door, she found herself pressed against the back passenger door, looking up into her husband’s face.

She refused to buckle at his impassive stare, looking evenly into his eyes; depthless blue, the color of the sea at twilight, in the dim illumination afforded by the streetlamps.

His hand shifted, and her breath hitched, but he only moved his hand past her, the familiar click of the Chevelle’s door release echoing in the thick San Diego night air.

Tom pulled the door further open, inclining his head and stepping back.

She swallowed, but moved to sit in the passenger’s seat, the sound of the shutting door feeling like some sort of passage of sentence.

Moments later, he opened the driver’s side door, sliding in and shutting it, however, he didn’t start the engine.

She held her breath, waiting to see what he would do next, but he only started the car, the purr of the Chevelle doing nothing to ease her tension, serving only to ratchet it up, the familiar streets leading home passing by.

The silence in the car was almost a living entity, made worse by the fact that Tom kept his eyes firmly fixed on the road before them, and she would be lying if she said that her heart wasn’t racing.

She was beginning to see the reasoning behind her husband’s callsign, between his nonchalant attitude and his unerring patience to wait her out, wait for her to slip.

Well.

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

…

She hoped so, at any rate.

She’d always been weak for him, honestly, and she suspected she always would be.

Much too soon, they pulled into their driveway, and Tom cut the engine, leaving her in silence, literally and figuratively, as he stepped out without a word.

She briefly debated whether or not to stay in the car, but knew deep down that that was not an option, so she got out of the Chevelle, also making her way inside.

After locking up the doors and checking the rest of the house, she exhaled and looked warily up at the stairs. “‘Screw your courage to the sticking place,’ woman,” she murmured, striding determinedly up the stairs.

The lights were on in the bedroom, and she saw Tom at the dresser, keeping his submariner in its box, his face somehow still impassive.

She moved to the bed, picking up the pile of night clothes she’d laid out that morning, muttering, “I’m going to the bathroom,” and darted towards the en suite.

However, before she could make it there, a hand wrapped around her upper arm, and once again, she got the breath knocked out of her, finding her body pressed against the wall behind her by the solid mass of her husband before her, his hands on either side of her head.

“What was that about tonight, hmm, milaya?” he spoke lowly, making a shiver run down her spine.

“What was what?” she replied, affecting a light tone.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he replied, implacable.

“Oh, that,” she shrugged, caving slightly.

“Yes, that.

And just what were you thinking?”

“Ehhh—nothing much, really.” Well, she mentally admitted, that much was true.

“Uh-huh.

See, I think you were trying to get me to lose it,” he declared.

She somehow managed to muster up an innocent expression. “Uh, nope, not at all.”

“Sure.

So your hand at my inseam was just complete coincidence, was it?”

“Has to be.”

He stared her down just like he had in the O Club parking lot, attempting to keep his expression stoic, but this close, she could see his eyes—how there was only a thin ring of midnight gray, his pupils blown wide from the desire he was trying to keep down.

She inhaled sharply, her lips parting, and his gaze immediately locked onto the sight.

When he spoke next, his voice was low and trembling. “You don’t know what you do to me.”

“I think I have some kind of idea,” she breathlessly murmured.

“Fuck—” he whispered brokenly before kissing her like he was at 38,000 feet and she was the oxygen he needed to breathe.

Caught in his riptide, she was helpless but to hold onto him.

Air surged back into her lungs as his kisses moved down to her neck, only to be stolen from them moments later, a cry halfway between pain and pleasure carried on her breath, when his ardor seared into the delicate skin there.

“That hand of yours—and you wearing my shirt—you drive me crazy,” he spoke into the juncture of her neck and shoulder.

“I think you like it, though,” she whimpered, hitching her legs around his unfairly narrow waist, as he adjusted his arms to hold her up.

“Damn it, I fucking do,” he groaned, moving them towards the bed.

They had just collapsed onto the comforter, kissing like teenagers, when he broke away to breathe, “You’re still going to pay for what you did, though, you’re not getting out of that.”

“Oh, am I, because it seems to me like your mouth is writing checks your body can’t cash… Commander,” she cocked her eyebrow.

His jaw dropped slightly, followed by a shaky inhalation. “…I shouldn’t have told you about my rank thing.”

Her smirk was halfway to a grin by now. “What are you going to do about it?”

He tilted his head. “You’re asking for it, at this point.”

“Well, then, do what you’re going to do, flyboy; that’s an order.”

A wicked smirk quirked the corner of his lips, full of promise. “Yes, Ma’am.”

NMCSD: Naval Medical Center San Diego

The USS Carl Vinson is a Nimitz-class aircraft carrier commissioned in 1982, and she is still on active duty.

I stole @valmare’s headcanon that Tom drives a Chevelle, because if it’s good enough for Mir, it’s good enough for me!

I’m so sorry Mir!

According to a production photo, Tom’s full name is Thomas Jacob Kazansky, but since I headcanon him as Russian, his patronymic is missing.

So thusly, you have Thomas Jacob Vasilyevich Kazansky.

When Mrs. Kazansky refers to Tom as Thomas Vasilyevich, that is considered a casual, informal, yet somehow in its own way, formal, method of referring to someone.

There’s cultural rules about that.

Tom calls Mrs. Kazansky “Mrs. Kazanskaya”, which follows the Russian and Slavic convention of gendered surnames.

CAPs: Combat Air Patrols

Summer whites are the white version of the khaki uniforms, and you can see them in The O Club bar scene in Top Gun ‘86.

“Screw your courage to the sticking place” is a quote from Shakespeare’s “Macbeth”.

Did I basically steal a line from Top Gun, and completely change the context of it?

Yes.

Yes, I did.

Mrs. Kazansky calls Tom simply “Commander” instead of Lieutenant Commander, because of the convention regarding “double-barreled” ranks.

Russian Glossary

Disclaimer: endearments and translations taken from Google—please don’t hesitate to correct me if I’m wrong, which, odds are, I am.

Milaya: dear, darling (there are other translations of this word, however)

Lyubimaya moya: my darling/my one and only sweetheart

Taglist

@valmare

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

#not me 👀 at men literally old enough to be my father #officially in my val kilmer era #top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #top gun fic #tom iceman kazansky x reader #tom kazansky x reader #tom iceman kazansky #tom kazansky #val kilmer

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pillow-anime-talk · 9 months

Note

I meant nsfw 41 and hades with fem plz

Sry about that

# tags: scenario; current marriage relationship; romance; smut; goddess!reader; a bit of ooc!hades; nsfw

warnings: mention of sex, vanilla sex, sex on deck, in clothes, praise kink, body worship, wet kisses, pet names

includes: female reader ft. hades {ror}

author’s note: hades, my beloved

41. “Of course. I am yours. Only yours.”

You were in the middle of reading the fifth volume of novels written by Erato – the Greek Muse who specialized in romantic poetry. Her books were some of the best you’ve ever read; they always had the same strong effect on your mind, soul and body, causing tons of blushes, smiles, and sometimes tears of various emotions. But after a few more minutes, you put the tome down on the table next to your huge chair covered with sheepskin, then stretched your muscles with a quiet grunt. You decided to leave the enormous bedroom smelling of roses and silk, and then walked a dozen more steps to finally find yourself in your husband’s office.

The room was dim, and the only light that fell on the wall was there thanks to several candles placed on special, high metal stands. The room smelled of clean paper, pen ink and perfume your partner had used for hundreds of years. With a smile and love in your eyes, you looked at the tall god sitting in the middle of the room by the desk and then said ‘Hello’ to him. Hades just nodded with a soft smirk, and after a short second he invited you closer. You took pride of place on his massive thighs.

“What’s wrong, my Queen? Are you feeling unwell or hungry?” He asked, bringing his face closer to you, then leaned against your shoulder, inhaling the pleasant scent of floral perfume. Your presence gave the Underworld many colors, sounds and smells.

“I just missed you.” You answered honestly, pushing your back tighter into the man’s warm chest. “Is it wrong or indecent? My Lord?” You asked, turning slightly to face him. Your cheeks were rosy and your voice sounded like birds singing in the morning. There was an amused glint in your eyes, and your hands were warm and smooth. The pen that had been in the dominant hand of the King of Death hit the oak wood, and its owner brought your body much closer to his; this time Hades’s hands didn’t touch the papers but your hips. “Oh?”

You were the Goddess of Lust, Fertility and Family Harmony. So it was obvious that your dear husband always warmly received your not so obvious gestures or requests. You were extremely beautiful and incredibly intelligent; your person could easily compete in beauty with Aphrodite, Apollo or Eros.

“You always show up when I miss you the most and want you the most...” He whispered again, gently kissing your earlobe. “Are you doing this on purpose, my dearest?” He asked lightly amused, and you merely twisted your body so that you could look at the face of the God of the Netherworld in his full glory.

“I just feel your thoughts, Hades.” You replied, allowing the two of you to kiss after a short while. The touch of his hands was gentle, peaceful. Yours, on the other hand, is a bit more greedy and self-confident, so you decided to undo the buttons on his maroon shirt. Visible abdominal muscles caused another pretty blush on your nose, and you only brought your hips closer to the massive crotch. “Can we do it here?” You asked, looking out of the corner of your eye at the dark desk.

Hades would never refuse his Queen. He quickly pushed aside the documents that are worth nothing to him at the moment, and then tenderly placed your body in the middle. He pushed your legs apart in one move, placing himself between your soft thighs. Another kiss – a little harder and longer – led to your underwear being pushed to the side. After a short second, between the next dozen of kisses, your husband lowered his pants and underwear, and his wet cock touched your pussy.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” He asked softly, touching his forehead to yours. You nodded confidently.

“Of course. I am yours. Only yours.” You replied, sighing a bit as you felt a pleasant warmth between your legs. “H-Hades.” A meek moan escaped your lips as his hips moved for the first time. Soft, yet strong and deep.

“You are perfect.” He said, catching your hips in a tight grasp one more time. “The most beautiful, the sweetest. I love your body and lips. My precious Queen.”

A lovely smile appeared on your face as Hades sped up and you wrapped your legs tighter around his waist. Light bites, firm grips on your body, deep breaths.

This moment could last forever for the two of you.

#—🎉#quote prompts #prompts challenge #4k followers #4k special #prompt 41 #record of ragnarok #record of ragnarok scenario #record of ragnarok scenarios #record of ragnarok imagine #record of ragnarok imagines #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok x you #hades #hades scenarios #hades imagines #hades x reader #hades x you #hades x y/n

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jaeyong-sucker · 1 year

Text

FOREVER • KUN

PAIRING: Qian Kun x Male Reader

GENRE: Smut, Fluff (?)

WARNINGS: Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Praising Kink, Pet Names, Hickeys, Age Difference, Poor Attempt at Romance, (More of a Kun-centric fic??? idk it's my first time writing in years), NOT PROOFREAD

Word Count: 2,161

Summary: Kun and male reader making love.

Note: This was supposed to be uploaded last March but was delayed for some reason. Feedback and tips would be very much appreciated. ^~^

Maybe it’s because of the cloudy, lazy weather. Maybe it’s because you looked so dashing in the warm confines of his hoodie that was big for you. Maybe it’s because he looked so hot and irresistible with nothing but sweatpants on. Or maybe the tension is just too strong to beat, that all said clothes are now discarded on the floor as want and lust takes over. You couldn’t (or have no plans to) resist as your sugar daddy pins you under him and dances his tongue with yours in a heated kiss, which he plans to take further. Who would, if it was the sexy, dominant bachelor Qian Kun devouring you right now?

Just exactly how did everything lead to this? As far as you can recall, it will be your fourth year together with Qian Kun in a few days. Qian Kun, CEO of Wang Technologies, known for manufacturing the world’s finest and advanced aircrafts. His love for flying and skydiving has influenced the company, making the products untouchable ever since it was passed down to his dexterous, meticulous hands. It all started when you, a struggling second year nursing student bumped into him in the grocery. Perhaps you were both busy looking at the aisle of snacks when you bumped each other, his hot coffee spilling on you and ruining your laptop as a result.

Stunning was an understatement when you first saw him. Unlike all men who just shrugged off and walked away when they inconvenienced you, Kun showed you his handsome, apologetic smile as he cleaned the mess himself and even paid for all your groceries. Before you parted ways, he gave you a contact card. Sketchy? Maybe. But still, you made an appointment with his office and prepared Ten’s phone number in case something happened to you. Little did you know, Kun was looking for a sugar baby. That day gained you unlimited access to his unlimited wealth... and the start of a new relationship.

Unlike all of the men you’ve dated, Kun did not insist on sleeping with you immediately. In fact, your relationship was far from overly sexual. Cuddles and dates most of the time. Kun helping you with your studies in practical ways, such as lending you his veiny arms when you practiced your nursing subjects. Healthy home-cooked meals made by his health-conscious ass (but that didn’t stop you from buying bubble tea). Thanks to him, you left the cram dorm and moved in with him in his modern, luxurious condo. A few vacations every year in and out of the country. A lot of advice that saved you from consequences you’re more than grateful to have not experienced. He does not demand for sex. In fact, the both of you only get intimate when you consented to.

“Love,” he deeply moans before kissing your neck. He licks and bites the spots that make your mind go haywire, unable to process anything but pleasure and the buildup of anticipation of him entering you and rearranging your guts. Kun, being his observant and very capable self, gives the slightest almost teasing, light touches over your torso before fondling your erect nipples, only making you croak out for more. You lift your torso up in an effort to have more of his touches; Kun obviously noticed that. He knows you want, rather, yearn for something else.

At lightning speed, your shorts are thrown into the messy floor and you feel two long, slender fingers rubbing on your rim as if begging for intrusion, which you are always willing to give. Kun lifts one of your legs over his shoulder before adding another finger to penetrate your puckered hole. You could only grunt and curse as his fingers immediately rubbed and poked your prostate, never failing to make your toes curl and breath hitch in bliss.

One thing about Kun, he loves seeing you crumble under him. Being the dominant he is, it is his absolute pleasure to see you go crazy under him. It uplifts his ego knowing only he is the one capable to make you feel sexual pleasure and meet all your expectations and needs. He loves seeing you melt with only his slightest touch, just like right now with you tugging on his gorgeous dark locks as he continuously rubs and jabs at your abused prostate while stretching your hole for his cock. Your eyes clenched shut, toes curled hard, your never ending mewls and whimpers, your dick leaking with massive amounts of precum are such a sight to behold. Kun is more than lucky to witness this sight every day and time he wants to.

"Does that feel good, baby," Kun kisses your forehead as he whispers with his deep, gentle, caring voice, sending tingles of pleasure all over your body. "Good boy, you're taking my fingers so well~ who's my good boy?" Kun coos as he kisses your cheek and watches you with his oh-so-loving gaze. His hands never stop playing and fondling your nipples, making you unable to talk. He knows what he wants to hear from you. He wants you to whimper and moan under him, and he gets that easily.

"D-Daddy," you managed to croak out. Kun notices and slows down, making your mind clearer as you speak to him.

"I want you, daddy, please!" Small beads of tears trickle down your cheeks. "Fuck me, please, daddy," you clench and unclench around his fingers.

Kun gazes at you sweetly before withdrawing his fingers from your hole, leaving you needy and clenching into nothingness. "How do you want me, baby," he leaves kisses all over your face as he pumps his hardening cock.

"Anything, please, daddy!" You were practically begging to be fucked. "Just want you inside me," you choked as you looked at him needily.

Kun doesn't like you begging, unless he feels like teasing you and wants to see you cry for his cock. But today is not one of those days. "Let daddy take care of you, love~" he whispers deeply into your ear before generously lubing your entrance, then his leaking cock, knowing how wet you both want your sessions to be.

You spend your time kissing fervently as he gently enters you. He takes his time penetrating you, making sure to hit all the sweetest spots and crevices of your hole. He whispers the sweetest praises lovingly, just like he did when it was your first; he fucks you like it’s your first almost every time. The softness of his voice and actions just make you want to surrender yourself to him and give him your fullest trust.

Kun swallows the whiny moans you let out as you pull him by his nape for a deeper kiss. You clamp your hole tight around Kun as a signal to move; observant daddy didn’t need to be told twice. He lodges himself slowly and gently inside you, making you feel different sweet sensations as he inches deeper and deeper. Kun dances his tongue with yours and kisses you deeper, gaining more access to explore the insides of your mouth. His hands never stopped playing with the pink, erect buds caused by all the increasing arousal. Your weeping dick is not ignored by Kun as he reaches out for it before giving it the sweetest of strokes.

Having Kun plunge his cock inside you is one pleasurable moment. And him jerking you off and toying with the most sensitive parts of your body is another, making you ignore the squelching sounds of his cock sliding inside you and how awfully hoarse your voice is as you moan out loud. He doesn't mind it. In fact, he loves seeing you vulnerable under him.

His warm breath hits your sin glistening with sweat as he releases the sexiest of grunts. Kun is one who loves playing with different rhythms and he knows the best ways to make you bring out the sweetest of moans. One minute he speeds up, not giving your abused prostate a break, then slows down right after. Not painfully slow, but the slow pace where you feel the entirety of his length and girth dragging along the walls of your hole, hitting all the perfect spots inside you.

"Such a good fucking boy~ taking daddy's cock like the good boy you are," he moans, leaving sweet kisses all over your neck. The sweet praises were oh-so-sweet, that you don't notice Kun lacing your fingers together before pinning them above your head. Beads of sweat emerge from his temple and he lets out his hot breaths and his deep moans.

Only a few thrusts made you lose control over your body, making you surrender to Kun. His touches and thrusts make you lightheaded and dizzy, sending electric pleasure all over your body. A few broken moans escape your lips as Kun begins to bury himself deeper, harder, with your stomach bulging from every powerful thrust.

Without breaking rhythm, Kun shifts you both to your sides and never misses hitting your abused prostate. His thrusts are consistent before they get increasingly harder. Faster. Deeper. His lips find their way to the sweet spot on your neck before giving it the most sensual of licks. Kisses. Bites.

"Fuck, babe~," Kun coos before licking and nibbling your earlobe. "You make me feel so good~ you're such a good fucking boy~," he moans out before holding you closer and thrusts unbelievably deeper in your spooning position. "I won't ever get tired of making love with you~ and I'll do this with you everyday if I could~," he croaks as his thrusts become inconsistent and sloppy, signaling the climax he holds back.

His loving words seem to have had a direct impact on you that you burst your release after he said those sweet words. Your climax had your toe curled, legs trembling, eyes clenched shut, hands gripping the sheets and a moaning mess while Kun continued lodging himself inside you. He grunts and curses out loud, releasing his cum inside your wet heat.

His thrusts make you cry in overstimulation as he milks every single drop of your climax. He leaves kisses all over your face as he hugs your sobbing figure close to him before everything goes black. All you remember is Kun’s arms cradling you as he whispers the sweetest praises and loving affirmations.

The empty spot next to you wakes you up. The sweet aroma of waffles and butter brings you to your senses followed by the fragrance of brewed coffee. Kun did not need to be called for as you see his shadow approaching your room. Clad in a fresh pair of Armani boxers is your sugar daddy holding a tray filled with newly cooked waffles and freshly brewed coffee. He looks at you with the most loving gaze that never fails to make your heart flutter as he closes the distance between you.

The next few minutes is just you and Kun quietly enjoying breakfast and each other’s presence. You always want to feel his warm body next to yours. His warm smile. His loving eyes. His goofy, clumsy side. You wish to wake up and spend your life next to him. You live for him. You want to live forever to be with him, no matter what.

Kun breaks the silence when he hums and turns you around, making you straddle his lap. He gives the widest smile as he kisses each one of your hands and leaves peppery kisses all over your face. You only think it’s just Kun being his usual morning self and the next thing he does leaves you abashed with mixed emotions causing you internal turmoil.

His eyes almost disappear as he holds out a simple golden ring accentuated with a tiny, sparkly diamond. He cups your cheek as soon as he sees the first teardrop appear in the corner of your eye. There’s no way. There is no way he is actually proposing to you right now. Overwhelmed, you weakly fall toward him before crying all over his bare chest. He could not help himself either as he cried soon after, hugging you tight in his arms and planting kisses on your head. This is not real. As soon as the tears disappeared and the both of you calmed down, he pulled away before kissing your forehead.

“Y/N, my beautiful Y/N. I want to spend the rest of my life with nobody but you. I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to be your husband, your partner, your best friend forever. My love, let’s get married on our anniversary?”

Suddenly, the world stops. Only one word came out of you that morning. One word that sent you both to tears. One word that brought the golden ring to your finger. One word that starts a new chapter of your lives. One word that made your whole day and led to love-making.

“Yes.”

421 notes · View notes

crystalflie · 25 days

Text

𝐒𝐡𝐡..𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐍𝐨𝐰..

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 -> 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 (𝟏𝟖+)

Tags: Porn with Plot, Two Shot, Female Reader, Canon Divergence, Getou is a teacher at JJT, Rough Sex, Office Sex, Almost Caught, Crying, Filming, Degradation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Making Out, First Time, Dirty Talk.

Word count: 5200~

[Cross-posted on Ao3]

Description: Getou sees how whipped his best friend was for the cute new office assistant. It's too bad that his best friend was also a total idiot when it came to romancing, so it's not Getou's fault if he got to fuck her first..

Romantically..

Over Gojo Satoru's desk.

————————————————————————

Getou pulled your hips down until you felt his own press into your ass, the unmistakable hardness beneath his pants telling you he was just as affected as you were.

“Or..you can beg me to fuck you silly, right here, right now.”

You blink up at him, not knowing whether to focus on ignoring the unbearable slickness- arousal pooling in your lower half, or on the audacity of this man, for making it seem like it was your idea, that you were the one that asked him to kiss you and touch you and make you like this.

“You’re fucking crazy..”

You decide that for better or worse, you were not about to defile your boss’s poor desk with his literal co-worker. You use the remaining strength in your arms to shove Getou’s chest, hoping to at least throw him off a little so you can get up. However, he hardly budged, chuckling under his breath about how adorable it was that you think you can do anything to him.

“Ohh.. am I now?”

You huffed in frustration, at how all you were doing was further humiliating yourself in front of the insufferably sexy man, and how your currently impure thoughts kept lingering on said man’s rock-hard chest underneath his office casual shirt, which you copped a good feel from during that brief moment of contact.

“Yes-”

Getou rolled his hips, the motion grinding into your dripping cunt, juices practically turning your panties translucent. It was nothing more than a flimsy piece of fabric now, and you wanted it off. Not that you can voice your requests, when you were busy moaning under Getou over a pathetic amount of friction.

“You shouldn’t be talking doll, not when you’re acting like a total slut, and we’ve hardly done anything yet.”

He smiles, a deep shade of rose dusting over what otherwise would’ve been a charming expression, dimples and all.

“Ah, I know. It’s cause you're used to Satoru already fucking his dick miles deep in you by now, right?”

Unholy images flash through your mind for a split second.

“S-Stop talking like that! It’s not true..”

Getou took the time to let his hand roam slowly up to your chest, cupping one of your breasts in his palm and gently giving it a squeeze.

“What isn’t? Hmmm?”

You turn your head to face away from him, with your cheek squishing against the wooden table as you stare forward at the blank wall to your right.

“I-I was just joking.. I didn’t sleep with Gojo-san.”

While you didn’t exactly see how the man reacted, you did hear his breath hitch as you both stilled.

“Listen Getou-san, it-”

The next thing you felt was him gripping your chin, turning your head over to catch you in another messy kiss. This time, it was a lot more aggressive, with Getou forcing his tongue inside to invade and dominate your mouth. He didn’t shut his eyes, holding your helpless, teary gaze threatening to droop, and proceeded to have a long taste of your sweet saliva, which escaped over the corners of your lips. He groans into you at some point, fondling the breast he held in his other hand. You felt nothing short of lightheaded, trembling beneath him as the hand suddenly reached the buttons of your shirt and tugs.

You knew what was coming, Getou made no indication of letting go of your mouth and stepping back to let you slowly take your clothes off. Of course, of course the way you're going to lose your best white collar shirt is from utter horniness.

“Mmph!”

You tried to protest against the man still holding you captive with his mouth, but a ripping noise along with the sound of buttons popping told you it was too late. However, Getou does finally part from your swollen lips.

“Holy shit..you really aren’t wearing a bra. I mean, I could kind of tell, since your cute tits got all hard before I even started playing with you..”

He smirks and then dives down again to flick his tongue over one of your nipples, the action causing you to whine, making you realize how sensitive your chest is.

“W-what! are you..doing?”

Getou looks at you but instead of responding first, he begins licking and sucking on your flushed breast. You gasp but then close your eyes, brows furrowed as you unintentionally indulge in the new sensation. It was wet..and warm, with Getou swirling his tongue and grunting every few seconds or so.

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but everything felt so, so good.

“Ah..!”

Getou lets his teeth dig into your soft flesh, and he sucks harder after hearing you cry out. Your hand finds its way up into his head to grip on the dark locks, accidentally tugging off the band that previously held his hair together. Getou lifted his face from your heaving chest at the feeling of his bangs falling over his eyes. He stares into you and cleans the residue of saliva on his lips with obscene slurping noises.

“Ugh..you’re gross..” You try to avert your gaze to block out the sight of him acting so vulgarly.

“Yeah yeah, keep talking while you still can.”

You huff, which gave him even more pleasure in what he was about to do next. The pads of Getou’s thumbs graze over both sides of your hips, slipping under the cotton fabric of your underwear. He chuckles when you freeze, shooting him a threatening look.

“Do not. Rip these.” Your voice had as much bite to it as a growling puppy, trying to pretend you weren’t desperate for him to hurry up and stop teasing you.

“Relax, I won’t.” At those words, he surprisingly slips off your panties gently, over your legs until it rests in his hand. A wolfish grin takes over his smile as he observes the wet patch on the fabric, then, to your bewilderment, he slips them into his pockets.

You blush harder at that than over the fact that all your parts were completely exposed under him. Getou drags his eyes over your plush, dripping cunt, while you lie uselessly on the desk, waiting for him to make the next move..

“Are you a virgin?” He asks and you stutter, until he cuts you off again.

“Depending on your answer, I may or may not be nicer..Probably.”

You said nothing, only reluctantly nodding, praying that he wouldn’t take the opportunity to make fun of you and just get on with it.

“Oh no darling..” Despite his words, you saw his eyes gleam as you felt his hands creep in between your plush thighs, so close to where you needed him to touch but going no further to your frustration.

“You probably imagined your first time to be all romantic with your patient and loving boyfriend, but that’s too bad.. Sorry baby.”

You didn’t even care that he was just spewing some nonsense to patronize you, but when he retracted his hand from your legs is when you whine at the loss of contact. Through your clouded gaze, you see Getou step back from the desk. You were confused, hearing a little squeak, realizing that the motherfucker plopped himself on Gojo’s chair.

What was he doing?

You annoyingly lift your back off the table to silently glare at him in your sitting position. Getou ignored your grumpy look to take in your exposed and disheveled appearance, skirt rolled up above your hip bones to display your pussy, shirt half off your shoulders and doing nothing to hide your pretty tits. The only thing that was still properly on was your stocking, still hugging onto your thighs.

He wanted to take a photo so badly, and maybe he will. Later. After making more of a mess of you.

“Don’t just glare at me. Go on, prepare yourself.”

Getou propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, waiting for you to move.

“What?” You were stunned. Is he saying what you think he is?

He sighs dramatically, almost imitating how Gojo would.

“I’m telling you to fuck yourself open with your fingers. You have touched yourself before, right?”

It was way too humiliating. There was no way you could do that in front of him, while he..just watches. You cross your arms.

“You’re just going to watch?”

Getou tilted his head, amused.

“What? You want me to get some popcorn too?” He smirks and starts to stand up, causing you slight panic that he might actually leave, but he paused and sat back down again after seeing the cute worry on your face.

“Just kidding..but you better put on a show if you don’t want me to get bored.” Getou himself knew that he was never going to leave this room pitching a tent in his pants, but the bluffing seemed to encourage you.

“Fine..”

You spread your legs wide open, wrapping one arm beneath a thigh to lift it up to your chest, giving the man an eyeful of your twitching cunt. You slowly trail your other hand down until it reaches your sopping pussy, and you bite back a moan at the first touch. You used your index finger to rub a few circles into your aching clit, sighing at finally reaching some proper simulation.

“Don’t hold your voice back.” You hear Getou command.

You couldn’t even look at him right now, only focusing on yourself to forget the spectator that made you slick up even more. You continue to play with your dripping folds, whining at how much your pussy was throbbing. However, the pleasure didn’t make the embarrassment go away, knowing that Getou was burning the image into his mind. The squenching sounds you were producing didn’t make it better. But the thought of him watching..made warmth pool at the bottom of your stomach. You begin pushing a finger into your slit, whimpering at the intrusion, trying to wiggle the digit into your tight walls. After a little work, you were able to fully sink your finger inside, using it to try and loosen yourself a bit more. The second finger went in with a struggle, and you pant as you started trying to scissor yourself, stretching your cunt around your hand. It didn’t hurt too badly as you practically lubricated yourself with your own juices, and you pulled your fingers in and out, the lewdness of the entire situation making you tremble. What’s worse was that you felt your orgasm approaching, your breath becoming unsteady at the building pleasure. Getou must’ve been able to tell as well, as he groaned and you looked up to see him wearing a pleased expression.

“Are you going to cum?” He breaks the silence, eyes still focused on your hand.

You squeak at his voice, fingers stilling inside your pussy as you mutter a quiet yes. Getou hummed, his next sentence making you freeze.

“Take your hand out.” He got up from the chair and walked towards your shaking form, your teary eyes, along with a pout showing how betrayed you felt after all the effort you put in.

You didn’t pull your fingers out yet, but you didn’t dare move them against Getou’s word. Getou stared down at you with a pretend frown, wasting no time in grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand out himself.

“W-Why?” You ask brokenly, not wanting to wait any longer. You were so close, you just needed a little more to go over the edge, your pussy was fluttering around nothing and you were so, so empty.

“You can’t cum without my permission. Ask nicely, and I might let you.” Getou’s grip remained on your wrist.

You swear that you hate him. But apparently not enough to hold onto your dignity. You were too needy and too horny to care, you needed to cum now or you were going to burst out crying.

“P-Please..” You manage to squeeze out.

“What? You gotta use more than just one word, I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You really wished he wouldn’t make you spell it out.

“Can I..can I please cum? Please Suguru..” You knew that using his first name was going to rile him up, but what you weren’t expecting was for him to trap you between his arms against the desk, like earlier, hiding his face in your neck only to growl out,

“I change my mind, the only way you’re cumming is on my cock.” He pressed one last kiss on your throat, and pulled back to undress. You focused on the wall behind him, brain still trying to catch up on what he said and what he was going to do, when you heard the rustling of Getou taking off his belt. You were ashamed to get so excited at the noise, but you wanted nothing more for him to finally fuck you like he promised. Your eyes dart down when Getou unzips his pants and pulls out his erect cock, standing tall with a few pearls of pre-cum on the tip.

You almost did a double take at his size, definitely way bigger than you expected. You didn’t have low expectations either, and you started to get a little nervous wondering how it was going to fit.

Getou hisses as he gives it a few strokes, then catches your eyes flickering toward his length shyly, unsure of what to do at that moment.

“Don’t act coy now, you can touch it.” He said as he took your hand into his, and wrapped it around his stiff cock, your soft palm driving him insane. Getou guided your hand up and down, shamelessly moaning while relishing in your slightly scandalized expression.

“It’s not going to fit..” You whispered.

“Yes it will.” He asserted, continuing the ministrations until suddenly pressing a thumb on top of your lips, pushing until you let him in.

“Mmph..?”

His index finger followed, the long digits stuffing to the back of your throat.

“Get them nice and wet for me princess, or I can’t promise this is going to be pleasant.”

You did your best in sucking and using as much saliva to cover his fingers, and when Getou was satisfied, he pulled them out to stroke at his cock again. You watched as your shining fluids covered his dick, anticipating how he was going to fill you with that monstrosity.

“Lay down.” His voice was strained, clenching onto his cock while eyeing your pretty, inviting pussy that begged to be fucked.

Your back met the cool surface of the wooden desk, glancing at Getou who situated himself between your spread legs. He roughly grabbed onto both your thighs, pushing them to press against your chest until the heels of your feet touched his shoulders. He then took his cock, sliding it against the lips of your pussy, not yet entering, but teasing you. His hot length felt agonizing against your cunt, and you whined at the delicious friction.

“Hurry..” You rushed him, Getou’s slow movements were making you more impatient. He only tsked, shaking his head at you like you were a naughty child.

“Didn’t I teach you to be polite?” The annoying bastard still had it in him to wait, which made zero sense to you as his eyes were nearly feral staring down at you. You didn’t have the same self control though.

“Please! Please, just fuck me already..”

“As you wish.”

It wasn’t hard to convince him this time, and if Getou hadn’t started to press his tip into your entrance, you would’ve thought he enjoyed cockblocking himself. Your breath hitched as he slowly sunk in, having a little difficulty although you made sure to stretch yourself as thoroughly as possible.

“Holy shit, you are tight.”

He was surprisingly gentle, softly rocking into you a few times to fit the rest of his pulsing cock. Your hands scramble for something to grab on, but there is only paper surrounding the desk with some pencil holders.

“Hold on to my shoulders.”

You obeyed without hesitation, attempting to grab onto his broad shoulders, but a sudden hard thrust had you shrieking, latching onto the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. Getou hushed you, whispering that it was going to be okay and little apologies for what he did. There was a stinging pain but also a feeling of satisfaction after all you’ve done to reach this point. Your thighs trembled around his hips, and the overwhelming full feeling confirmed he was now completely sheathed inside. Getou’s hands grabbed onto your waist harshly, enough that you were sure it was going to leave marks the next day, and he grinds into you as you both consecutively moaned. He begins moving a little when your breathing steadies, making sure not to go too fast at first.

“Fuck.. you’re clenching me so well..it’s hard not to destroy you right now.”

You whimpered at his words, feeling Getou drag his cock in and out, brushing perfectly against your pussy walls. Soon enough, the pain had melted away into hot, burning pleasure, and you were unable to stop the tiny, slutty noises escaping your lips. That only seemed to encourage him to go faster, his hips slamming into your squelching cunt, producing slick that smeared on his pelvis. The sensation was mind-numbing and the downright dirty act had tears streaming down your face, feeling so guilty of what you were doing on Gojo’s desk, but so good you almost wish he was here to see you debase yourself as nothing more than a filthy whore.

“What are you thinking about, hm?” Getou asks without stopping, fucking you at a beyond leisurely pace.

You let a few more moans, unable to form a single coherent word, eyes glazed over and mind far gone. But to answer his question, you were thinking about nothing but dick. Dick that you had and dick that you wish you did. You hear Getou laugh, and one of his hands leaves your hips to fumble around in his back pockets. You didn’t know what he was searching for until he pulled out his cell phone, unlocking it with a quick swipe. You should’ve been embarrassed and even concerned, but you just didn’t care anymore. All that mattered was that he continued to fuck you with his thick cock.

“Last week. I heard..fuck, that you and Satoru went on a little movie date.”

You were confused, why was he bringing this up? It didn’t matter that Gojo just happened to invite you to the movies since he said he had extra tickets, nothing mattered when Getou was here and the one fucking your brains out.

“I was really upset you know, that I wasn’t invited.”

You babbled something in response about how it was just on a whim, and that it wasn’t a date.

“B-But.. It looks like this time..Satoru is the uninvited one.” Getou leaned his upper body over yours, unintentionally pushing his cock further in, to prop his phone up against a framed photo with three people, which you had learned from Gojo it was from his high school days.

“Ahn..!”

Getou’s eyes trail down on your face to shoot you a mischievous look, before gripping your hips again to begin to pull out. You had thought he would begin moving again, so it confused you to no end when you suddenly felt fully empty. You let out another noise in protest, about to question him, but you don’t get a chance as you are flipped over on the desk , having your chest pressed against the smooth wood and ass held up by Getou. Your eyes flicker forward, blinking towards how you were positioned aligned to the entrance of the office, in perfect sight to anyone that could walk in and see you getting railed from behind by your boss’s best friend. However, that wasn’t the only thing that caught your eye. Diagonal from where you were lying, you see Getou’s phone resting on the framed photo, with your messed up reflection staring right back.

“Y-You’re recor– A-ahn!”

Your voice cuts off as Getou sunk his cock back into your pussy, from this angle it hits so much deeper than before and so, so much more sensitive against that one spot. Your mouth falls open with an unexpected moan, your body frozen and trembling and utterly struck with a sensation that slapped all the thoughts out of your mind.

“Oh? Here?” Getou starts moving to confirm his thought, and he was right as the sounds you made pitched higher and higher, your arm failing back to try and grab at his hold on your waist. Your efforts were dismissed easily as one of his hands gripped yours, pinning it back on the table

“Nope, be good and look cute for the camera.” Getou began plummeting his cock harder through your hungry cunt, drawing wails from your reddened lips. The sound of skin slapping on skin, decorated by wet, slick noises was absolutely lewd and you were able to see how your face twisted in pleasure, adding onto the heat coiling in your tummy.

“S-Since I wasn’t invited before, I think we should just make our own movie..fuck–, and make Satoru watch alone this time..”

It took you a bit to catch up to what he was referring to, the thing you were talking about earlier, right..your ‘date’ with Gojo. The logical part of you was screaming no at the thought that Gojo could possibly see what you’ve done, but the you with pussy stuffed to the brim only clenched at Getou’s comment, getting him to hiss and thrust harder into your inviting warmth.

“Oh shit..you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that..fuck-” Contrary to his words, Getou continues fucking into you like a wild animal, too clouded by the feeling of your gummy walls enveloping his hard cock. You were perfect in his eyes, soft skin with curves in all the right places, sweet lips and an even sweeter cunt. You fit around him just the right amount to overwhelm your pretty little head while you try to fuck him into your sweet spot. It was so adorable how you didn’t realize what you were doing, only mindlessing chasing your own high looking all ditzy, with drool escaping the corner of your mouth following shameless gasps. You felt all tingly and hot, your nipples pressed on the desk adding extra friction with how hard Getou was rocking the furniture. You wanted to touch yourself so badly, to finally bring yourself over the edge, but you couldn’t move with his body weighing down on you. Getou could tell that you were about to cum by the way your pussy began squeezing down on his cock, attempting to milk his release as well.

“Don’t, not yet.” He grunted, and you cried out weakly in response, mewling as he gradually slowed down again. You felt more tears prick up at being denied, and you were fully prepared to beg as much as he wanted if only Getou would fuck you like you deserved. You were so patient and obedient, but you just couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Hey don’t cry–”

Two strong knocks came from the door.

Both of you consecutively paused, complete silence falling between your connected bodies. Fear douses your head in cold water and you say nothing, waiting for Getou to make the next move. You couldn’t see him, with his face cut off through the recording, but your eyes widen when you felt him eventually shift, twisting you around while you were still pierced on his cock. You bite back a moan when Getou’s palms slips under your ass and halts you off the desk, your legs instinctively wrapping over his hips and your arms circling around his neck.

“W-What are you doing?” You whispered.

He lets out a throaty laugh, proceeding to calmly walk to the door as the knocking gets louder, the person outside calling out.

“Gojo-san. I got the report.”

Recognition flashes in your head, that voice..

It was Nanami, the helpful blonde man that you’ve encountered several times when you got a little lost on campus. You panic when Getou continued carrying your practically naked self to the entrance, but your little fuss didn’t phase him, only stopping when you both were inches from the door.

The knocks resumed again with Nanami’s tone rising.

“I heard you inside. You’ve been asking for this, so don’t ignore me now.”

Nanami was so close, the door being the only barrier that protected your exposed tits and dripping cunt from his view. You wouldn’t know what to do if he came in and saw the indecency you were committing in a professional workplace.

Would he be disgusted?

Would his stoic persona finally break?

You were scared..but also dangerously aroused. Getou groans feeling you tighten around his cock, knowingly massaging your ass in his grip. He pinned your back against the door, not being subtle at all when a thud noise resulted in Nanami’s knocks seizing.

“Come. Back. Later.” Getou growled out under his breath, thrusting up into you as your head fell back, releasing a high whimper.

It was over. There’s no way Nanami wouldn’t be suspicious now, hearing a voice that clearly wasn’t Gojo’s. Your nails dug into Getou’s back, unable to hold back your little moans as he moved fast and harsh inside of you. He showed no sign of stopping or slowing down after holding back on you so many times, and you were able to feel deep within your stomach every time the head of his cock hit your best places. The amount of wetness and precum that you collectively gathered was gushing around where your pussy connected with him, obscene noises once again bringing a cherry flush to your ears.

“Ngh..h-he’s outsid-”

Getou was busy ramming into the delicious cavern of your cunt, ignoring your comment and how his junior was probably able to hear everything that was happening. He didn’t care, you belonged to him and Nanami can fuck off or bear witness to him fucking your stupid brains out. You were just too sweet, eagerly clamping down on him and offering your tight pussy to him for your first time. Him, and nobody else. Not Gojo, not some other unworthy guy, but him. And he was going to give you the good fucking you deserve after giving him all those looks the past few weeks you started working here.

Little gasps and stutters in your voice tells him that your orgasm was close, and fuck he needed to see you make a mess of yourself and have you sob pathetically around his cock as you do.

“Cmon baby, touch yourself for me.”

You felt so relieved, you reached a hand down before he changed his mind, shaky fingers gliding through your sensitive folds. You panted against Getou’s chest, feeling the tension in your stomach building with every thrust he sends deep within your pussy. The added stimulation from your fingers sent quivers over your lower half, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for much longer. Clouded in pleasure, your sight was blurred by tears as you said something unintelligible to Getou about needing to cum and needing it badly. He chuckles, leaning forward to press a kiss along your jawline.

“Go ahead, be a good girl and cream on my cock.”

Getou’s hips speed up, and not even a second later, your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you gasped, an intense wave of pure white washing over your twitching body. You whined, muttering Getou’s name in meaningless rambles as he continues fucking you through your high, feeling your slick gush down your pulsing cunt and escape every time he pulls back.

“Oh- fuck..you’re so fucking tight..” Getou’s thick length was quickly beginning to overwhelm your overstimulated pussy, and your noises of protest had his grip on your ass tightening.

“Hush..s-shit, just a little more..” His cock pounded impossibly harder, abusing your soft, plush walls to the point where you were wailing and scratching at his arms, trying to form a coherent sentence to tell him to slow down. Lucky for you, it wasn’t long until Getou’s head tucked into your neck as he released a low groan, filling your pussy with his hot cum. Warmth spread throughout your stomach and you sighed, rubbing your cheek against Getou’s. His movements were slowing down, but he made sure to fuck his spent into you nice and well, milking his cock for all its worth. You were trembling all over and way too tired to try and stop him, so you allowed him to handle you like a doll till he was satisfied. Your head was spinning, and whether it was the comfortable buzz or just pure exhaustion, you were ready to pass out in place. Getou eventually pulls out, making sure to support your hips and legs as he temporarily sets you on the floor. Your back leaned against the door as you blink tiredly at the ground, unaware of the mixed fluids escaping from the confines of your pussy. Rustling came from where Getou stood above you, he must've been fixing himself up, which made you realize he hasn’t actually taken any of his clothes off fully. Compared to you, he looked as put together as he was this morning, and you didn’t care to cover your body, only basking in this nice tingly feeling with your mouth slightly agape. Footsteps traveled across the room, and then Getou appeared in front of you kneeling, one hand holding some tissues and the other his phone.

“Hm..it’s a shame that we didn’t get everything on camera.” He mused as he took one of the tissues to wipe the remaining tears off your face. You scrunch your eyes and then yawn, to which Getou laughed, taking another tissue to clean between your thighs.

“Uhm..are you going to tell Gojo-san?” You voiced a concern that has been on your mind since the beginning. You didn’t know if he was being serious about showing the video to his best friend or if it was all just sex talk. Should you be concerned? Well.. it was a little late for that.

Getou’s hand brushed against your leg, now trying to rid the floor of any excess residue.

“How do I put this..he might already know.”

His statement didn't make any sense, how could Gojo know?

“Unless he actually isn’t here, but I’m pretty sure he never left campus. I can still feel his cursed energy present.”

You suddenly shot up straight in your sitting position, looking helplessly confused.

“How..? Even so, he isn’t here s-so..”

Getou shook his head, a guilty smile crossing his face briefly.

“Satoru sees everything, as ominous as that might sound. But maybe if he happened to be wearing his blindfold and shades at the same time then-”

The door supporting your back started jiggling just then, frightening you to scramble and fall forward into Getou, who caught you in his chest. Your eyes flicker to his in panic, whispering

“Did..Didn’t Nanami leave..?”

The voice that came from outside, however, was a much worse possibility than Nanami at the moment.

“Open the door Suguru.”

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AN: yes i will make a masterlist soon to organize my stuff.. but i am lazy

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you

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