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madschiavelique · 9 months

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𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : miguel didn't like very much the way you left him all horny for you in the toilets during the unexpected mission, so once the anomalies have all been maintained, he decides to teach you proper manners

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, lots of tension, soft!dom miguel, quick boob job, cunnilingus, "it's too big", pnv sex, miguel teaches reader magic words, so much kissing i swear, no use of Y/N, biting, mention of scars (from fights, miguel's) - let me know if i forgot any !! word count : 7,7k

note : i'm sorry i took SO LONG writing this baby, but here it is (and not yet proofread but i couldn't wait hehehe). the end is corny i AM SORRY but it was already long and this is to keep a pretty open. thank u all so much for ur support !! we passed the 400 subscribers today and i'm literally jumping to the ceiling of happiness. this is the last part of the 4shot, i hope you liked it <33 i was super inspired by Shameless by The Weeknd (one of my favourite songs hehehe). enough of me talking, love u guys !!

the previous parts : 1 - love bite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission

tag list : @marit332 @coralineyouareinterribledanger @sunnyx07 @mamamiriamxo @l3laze @amy180801 @gojos-goth-gf @readingfan @cheezit-luv3rr @scaleniusrm @cowboyharrryy

Miguel hadn't followed you, so you decided to lure the creature back by calling out to it:

"You're really terrible at hide-and-seek, you know that?”

Suddenly, it turned towards you and charged at you as you leapt into the air to keep it at bay, at least long enough for Miguel to finish... what he had to do. The sound of his breathless voice replayed in your head, the heat in your cheeks rising. You propelled yourself silently up to a floor above, observing the behaviour of the dough.

The feel of his fangs on the skin of your neck, his tender kisses on your cheeks, the hard feel of his erection against your thigh as his claws pressed into the skin of it...

"Oh my god you're going to be the end of him!" exclaimed a small voice beside you.

The anomaly turned towards it at the same time as you: Lyla.

"Lyla?" you choked out, swivelling your head just in time to avoid the anomaly that had climbed extraordinarily nimbly to your floor.

"His pulse quickened, his body heat increased and his muscles contracted amazingly hard!" she chirped as you mimed shutting up or lowering her voice, but she wasn't listening and you started darting from floor to floor as she continued "You've got him completely wrapped around your finger! No pun intended."

"Please Lyla, keep it down!" you begged her, feeling like a huge red tomato as you blushed and above all hoping not to be chased away by this abomination.

"Oopsie," she smiled, placing a hand over her mouth.

The anomaly swung a ball of paste at you, and you narrowly avoided it as it crashed and exploded with power, splattering you as it went, a large drop smearing across your suit.

"I didn't know you had access to... all this," you muttered breathlessly as you ran down a corridor to get away from the unspeakable thing. "It doesn't matter... Yes, it does matter actually, how come?"

"Don't be angry, you've just given me what little fun I'm allowed to have," she said with a pout, "you know, programme life isn't always fun."

Out of breath, you let out a sigh that relaxed your shoulders with its depth. You shook your head for a moment.

"Well, we'll talk about it later, can you identify this for me?" you asked breathlessly, silently, as you spooned some of the substance and held it up to a small metal support on your watch, which lit up when you dropped a little on it.

"My pleasure, sugar," she said with a quick clap. "Hmm, that looks like a basic bread dough mixture to me. Flour, water, salt, yeast, not forgetting the anomaly gene, otherwise it wouldn't be any fun."

"It's true that I'm bursting with laughter," you say, putting both hands on your hips, still trying to catch your breath. You looked at her for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek, hesitating before asking, "Is Miguel... Done?"

"Yep, he's on his way," she said, giving you an amused wink, and you couldn't help but let a little laugh slip from your nose.

"Right," you said, clearing your throat so the anomaly could hear, "I'm going to lure this thing towards the exit!" You could hear the oily, slimy sounds coming in your direction, turning to Lyla one last time to ask: "Make sure you send Miguel my location, okay?" you said as you started to trot off.

"Already done!" she replied, blowing you a kiss which she pressed onto her hand before disappearing in a cloud of pixels.

You ran on, stammering aloud to keep the beast at your heels: " Come this way! You know, I think you'd really like rock, I've got two friends who play really well, I think you'd love to meet them!"

The pile rumbled behind you. You leapt into the air, grabbing the glass dome and hanging upside down, standing with your arms crossed over your chest.

"No, really, I think you'd like it. Oh well! You've got a head that could listen to metal, plus you've got exactly the right mouth shape to sing it, you know."

It was rumbling from the ground, right underneath you.

Then, just above you, you felt a tap on the thin glass roof, and when you looked up, you saw Miguel. It was a funny sight, the way you were standing made it look like you were reflecting yourselves in a mirror.

"Oh, hi there," you smiled behind your mask, taking on a slight intonation as if you hadn't been the cause of his delay. "Did everything go well?"

He let out a desperate sigh, the red glasses on his suit narrowing, before simply saying:

"Something unexpected came up, it was very... frustrating. But I'll wait."

I'll wait. The very word made you gulp.

"Observations?" he asked, jerking his chin in the direction of the anomaly just below you.

"It's dough, we'd just have to find something to bake it with," you suggested.

Outside there was a loud bang: the lorry Gwen and Hobie had been chasing had started to roll over, and the anomaly, just as alert as you and Miguel, leapt towards the first bay window to get out.

Gwen and Hobie seemed to have managed to deal with their anomaly, the truck was completely dented, sideways, and luckily for you, the oil from the truck was starting to spread on the ground. You got out, Miguel following to examine the situation. All it needed was a spark...

"I'll try to coat it with a bit of oil, find a lighter, a box of matches, whatever," he warned, before dashing off towards the pile of dough.

You looked around, and there, as luck would have it, was a convenience store. You leapt towards it. Managing to light a lighter with your costume on would be complicated, so you managed to find a box of matches, rushing towards the street again.

Miguel kept jumping up and down to coat the anomaly, and when he finally saw you coming, he shouted: "Light it up.

So you grabbed a match, struck it against the side of the box and threw it into the oil. You stepped aside and ran further to avoid taking any damage from the fire. It immediately licked at the anomaly, which let out horrible, high-pitched screams as the paste on its body cooked and smoked, turning golden and thinning little by little.

And so, you launched the multidimensional cell that had been given to you, and finally imprisoned the anomaly.

"I think 'the more the merrier' is a phrase I like less and less," said Gwen as you catalogued the anomalies.

"Are you kidding me? This was so much fun," said Peter. "It was like doing MMA!"

"Speak for yourself, we took care of the Magic Bus driver," Hobie huffed.

"I think Gordon Ramsey would be proud of our muffin," you agreed.

"You have to admit it smelled good," confirmed Pavitr.

Everything had gone well, Gwen had finished her exam period and you were all filling in your reports. Everything was going well, and everyone was pretty relaxed, except maybe you.

It was a pretty nasty trick you played on Miguel, leaving him like that, so close to the climax, and then leaving. And somewhere in there, you feared and waited impatiently for what was to come.

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. He seemed to be concentrating, but sometimes you could feel his gaze on you, insistent. You found him incredibly calm, and maybe it was just because he hid it well, but just to see him lose a little of that control, you managed to brush past him for a moment when no one was looking, your knuckles deliberately brushing his thigh before joining the others. Pretending to be interested in their conversation, you couldn't help but glance over at Miguel.

Death stare was probably the closest you could come to defining the look he was giving you at that moment, and a shiver of dread ran down your spine as you swallowed. He seemed to chew the inside of his cheek for a moment, trying to act as if nothing had happened.

You weren't going to get out of this alive, or entirely.

"Well, I don't know about you, but the lack of sleep knocked me out, so I'm going to bed, see you later!" said Gwen before leaving.

"Same here, see ya," said Hobie.

And successively, the only ones left were Peter, Miguel and you.

He waited patiently, with you beside him, until Peter had finished his report and, like all the others before him, had gone to sleep. The seconds seemed to stretch out painfully, every movement and possibility accentuated by the wait. Miguel seemed tense, and you had no idea whether Peter could feel it from his side too, but you could feel your skin tingling with anticipation.

Every moment, every second tickled your mind and body like tiny needles, Miguel's gaze resting insistently on yours.

"Well, that's not all, but I think we've all got better things to do than hang around making a report," Peter yawned. "Good night, sleep well."

Oh, it won't be sleep.

He then waved goodbye one last time, turning his back to you as he headed for the exit. Miguel turned to look at you, taking a deep breath as he tilted his head back to look at you from an even higher angle.

The footsteps echoed around the room, fading away little by little as Miguel's eyes turned red, yours watching them and stifling a gasp. He took a single step closer, no more, but it was enough to intimidate you and for you to take a step backwards.

It was when the door finally closed behind Peter that he grabbed you powerfully around the waist and pinned you down on one of the desks, causing you to squeal in surprise as you widened your eyes for a moment, blinking frantically. In less time than it took to say 'empanada' Miguel had you completely under control, immobilising you faster than poison and more powerfully than a pair of handcuffs.

His nose wrinkled slightly.

"Did you enjoy your little act?" he asked, his tone extraordinarily calm, which made him all the more menacing. "Leaving me like that without finishing what you'd started?"

Your heart was racing, and suddenly just meeting his gaze seemed too powerful to maintain eye contact, so you turned your head to the side. Was it simply because you were embarrassed by your own little prank, or was it just that the intensity of his eyes on yours was too much? But Miguel wasn't going to have it any other way, so with one of his hands he grabbed your jaw and redirected it so that you were facing him.

"It's very rude not to look into someone's eyes when they're talking to you, you know that," he whispered, moving a little closer. "We're going to have to correct that, and teach you polite forms of address."

And you couldn't argue with that, because right now it wasn't a choice you had to make.

"Speaking of politeness, I realise that you haven't used any magic words so far for our little encounters," he said, his thumb pressing and digging into the skin of your cheek.

He moved a little closer, tilting his head to one side as you felt his nose brush against yours, moving a little closer still to feel his lips brush against yours, the simple touch of them sending little electric currents of excitement through you...

But nothing, he just grazed his lips against yours, not moving any further, but not backing away either. Your breaths collided softly, his eyes still fixed on yours with insistence.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice composed and contained, as you tried to free yourself a little from the hold his hand had on your jaw, to no avail.

His lips, so close to yours and yet so far away, gave you electrifying sensations, but you wanted more. You wanted the two of you to kiss, for your lips to become one again, for you to be able to offer him the body's 'I love you'.

So you tried to move a little closer, meeting his lips to satisfy your desire, no, your need. But he pulled back slightly, causing you to sigh in disappointment. No, you'd have to tell him.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice small but audible, as if you were pouring your desire into his plump lips.

A smile, the stretch of his lips pulling them a little further away from yours.

"Where," the question sounding more like a command.

His thumb eased a little in its pressure and caressed the skin of your cheek for a moment before sliding across your chin, settling just below your bottom lip.

"There," you replied, your desperation for more contact growing stronger by the second as the only thought on your mind was his kisses.

You wanted to taste that rainy, woody flavour on his lips again, and feel them assault your body with kisses.

"Only there?" he questioned, provoking your cravings even more as your impatience was felt almost painfully.

It didn't seem fair, he seemed to possess incredible composure and cold-blood as your veins pulsed through your body like lava flowing from the volcano of your heart.

The little game Miguel was playing with you almost felt like a little revenge. Could you blame him? He wanted all this as much as you did, but he liked balance, he liked things to be even, and he was making you pay for the advance you'd dared to take from him.

His thumb pressed against your plump lip, his skin barely brushing against it, and it felt like a thread sticking out with no way of pulling on it.

"Yes- No!" you moaned, feeling like a child who was denied a sweet treat, unable to hide your longing for more as his touch confused you, "everywhere."

His lips were parted, as close as ever, his warm breath spilling over yours. His thumb had moved up the curve of your lips to press against the volume of her, his eyes fixed on it.

"I didn't hear that properly," he said, his eyes returning to yours.

Their carmine colour reflected your face: eyebrows slanted back, eyes almost watery, his thumb resting on your lips as he continued to caress it mathematically to elicit a reaction from you.

You tried to squirm away for a moment, but Miguel's hand on your waist held you in place with incredible ease.

He raised an eyebrow, obviously your attempt was in vain, he hadn't started hand-to-hand training the day before like you had, he'd been an ace at physical power and combat for much longer, so of course he could immobilise you in less than no time and much less delicately if the mood took him.

His lips brushed yours a little closer, and you could almost feel them completely. But this tiny glimpse of heaven wasn't granted to you, and you whimpered for a moment before finally just saying:

"Kiss me," you whined, "please."

His eyes crinkled with his smile.

"Mira que buena."

He finally kissed you, and it was like you had taken cotton candy in your mouth and as it melted you could feel all the little crystals of sugar that were hidden by the fluffiness of the sweet, a moan of relief vibrating from your lips against his lips.

Millions of tiny sparkles crackled under your skin, rising to the surface like champagne bubbles as Miguel cupped your face and kissed you. He took your lips as if you were holding the air that allowed him to breathe, his hand going round your side to slip under your back, pressing against your pelvis to bring it close to his.

He bit your lower lip lightly before pulling away, his half-closed eyes looking into yours again. His hand came to caress your cheekbone gently, with a tenderness that was almost unlike anything he had ever offered you before.

"Tell me more about these desires you mentioned.”

Your breath caught slightly, and you suddenly felt your face heat up fiercely, as if you were leaning over the hearth of a fireplace, its fire licking your face and your being from afar. You swallowed, formulating out loud your desires, all those thoughts you'd had about him even after your meeting at the Conditioning Centre and what had happened in the cabin, seemed difficult.

"Come on, don't be scared," he murmured before leaning over to kiss your forehead gently, offering you soft, sweet words to help you get the burning out of your soul.

All those thoughts you'd had, those warm nights during that week when you'd imagined the feel of his fingers, his lips, the sweet words that interested you as he searched inside you to expose you to him emotionally, all of them could be said, especially the one that was vibrating immensely inside you at the moment.

"I want... I want you to..."

You had the impression that the words you were about to say would be like throwing a tiny stone into still water, like stepping on ice and feeling it crack, like throwing alcohol into the fireplace that was warming you up.

The hand that was resting on your cheek ran down your neck, brushing your chest as it slid to your hip and slid all the way down to your thigh, stopping in its descent at that very spot, his hand gripping it.

"Hmm?" he asked, his humming vibrating against the skin of your cheek and tickling you.

You bit the inside of your lip, your teeth pressing into your flesh and trapping some of the wet skin against your bottom teeth. You released this clutch with a gasp as your voice dropped to a whisper when you whispered :

"I want you to fuck me."

His eyes crinkled as he smiled, an eyebrow raised, his proud grin stretching across his cheek as his lip parted wide enough to reveal his fangs. He came to kiss your cheek, his soft lips caressing it as his lashes offered you butterfly kisses.

His grip on your thigh softened, his thumb making circular movements against your covered skin as a warm cloud began to form in your lower belly.

"Say that again," he said, his breath landing on your neck as his thumb began to move slightly up your inner thigh.

You tilted your head back, closing your eyes as the simple sensation of his fingers on your body caressed you sublimely, a sigh of ease slipping from your lips. Miguel then took the opportunity to kiss the corner of your jaw, laying a trail of kisses that mixed sweetness and hunger, kissing and biting your skin. He lowered his lips a little further down your neck and kissed you lazily, the coolness of his lips meeting the fire burning at the back of your head. His lips reached a sensitive corner, causing you to let out a moan.

You moistened your lips, your cheeks burning as Miguel's fingers traced the sensitive skin of your thigh and his other hand rested on the small of your back, close to the cloud of heat.

And he expected you, with all these delicious distractions, to be able to string a sentence together properly and clearly. So you tried to speak louder, swallowing before saying:

"I want you to fuck me."

His lips came away from your neck, just brushing your ear before coming back to face you. The red of his eyes was deep, hungry, but above all attentive to your every move, which made him even more intimidating. His lips were so close to yours that you could feel them moving close to your skin as he spoke.

"There must be something with my hear because I can't hear properly what you said," he said, his tone a little less contained than he had managed to convey before, less composed, "say it louder."

His fingers continued their trajectory, very close to you, to where your desires came from, the knot in your lower abdomen tightening even though he never reached the spot. So this was the intense despair he'd felt earlier? The pain of his desire overcoming his thought and logic in the simple hope that he would be touched to turn the pain into sweetness?

You tried to move your hips a little, in the simple hope that he might go further, touch you, but he steadied you in an instant with his hand on your back, making you let out a little cry of longing.

You bit the inside of your cheek, your gaze meeting his for a moment, and you saw it in the reflection of his eyes: the breadth of your desire spreading through your whole body.

You breathed in, gathering your strength and thoughts to say, "I want you to-"

His hand went up your back to the nape of your neck and traced up and down your spine, your body undulating uncontrollably as you concluded with a strangled sigh:

"Fuck me, please."

His carmine eyes watched you through his long black lashes, a proud sneer stretching his lips, your request seemed to have pleased him greatly.

If you had something to ask him, you might as well ask him politely. He tilted his head to one side, the light illuminating his jaw over his massive shoulder, it was so sharp it could have cut glass. Did he have any idea of the hold he had over you?

"Muy bien, bien hecho, muñeca," he murmured before kissing you again, gently.

His kiss was demanding, hungry, eager for your lips to be captured by his. Your hands, until now too afraid to touch anything or attempt any gesture, were tempted by the need to touch him in turn. They came to rest on his face, cupping it as he devoured your mouth relentlessly, his kiss a mixture of thirst, craving and the occasional sensation of his canines scratching your skin.

His thumb had moved up to your groin, deliberately avoiding and brushing very close to the part you'd been dreaming of him touching. Both his hands were now on your hips, gripping them to draw them to his.

And the electrifying sensation of his erection meeting in a single touch the excitement of your cunt that had grown inside you caused you both to moan together.

Your hand snaked through his hair, his sighs of comfort rushing into the depths of your body, blowing on the already burning fire inside you making it blaze and shine. His pelvis had begun to undulate against yours, the friction he was exerting against your covered flesh, against your throbbing clit, sending sparks throughout your body.

"Coño," he let out between kisses, one of his hands gripping your hip a little tighter to pull you closer to him and hold you in place while the other moved up your body like ivy on a statue, pressing against the back of your neck so that you were even closer. He wanted to eliminate any space between you, and you wanted it just as much, arching your body to his touch.

The kiss went from gentle to passionate, from passionate to hungry, and from hungry to needing more. Your tongues exchanged a waltz, and the next moment Miguel was back at your neck as your hand rested on his hip.

You needed more closeness, more of everything, but less clothing. He pulled you in again, straightening you up so that you ended up sitting on the desk, both your mouths still dancing.

He placed both hands firmly under your thighs, ready to lift you up.

"Hang on," he whispered between two kisses.

Without missing a beat you wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck as he lifted you with incredible ease, heading for a door at the back of the room: Miguel's quarters.

To avoid being bothered by anything during his precious, absent sleep, Miguel didn't belong to any of the dormitories, sleeping in secluded quarters. One of his hands came up to grip one of your buttocks, grasping it with his full hand and kneading it, a little hum of pleasure vibrating from your lips against his as you nibbled on it. You kissed his cheek, tracing his jaw with your wet skin.

As he depixelised his hand from his suit and placed it on the digital recognition pad, you gently kissed his neck, a rumble rising in his throat, a mixture of threat and plea for patience. But how could you still be patient? It was impossible, you were each other's tinder box and lighter.

As soon as the airlock opened, he came to kiss you dangerously, not tiring for a moment of the sensation of your lips caught between his. He walked quickly and eagerly, his erratic breathing colliding with your warm skin.

You rounded a corner, and the familiar sensation of a mattress under your back met you almost brutally. You were out of breath, lying back, looking at Miguel.

He stood there, looking down at you. His hair was dishevelled from the passage of your hands, his eyes shining like two rubies in the half-light, watching you hungrily. He towered over you, dominating you with his size and power. You shuddered, because at the moment he looked like a predator facing the prey he was about to devour.

He chuckled, moving closer as he put one knee on the mattress, one of his hands coming to rest beside your head, leaning gently over you, crawling up to spread your thighs as his face came level with yours.

And it was with the sensitivity that only lips possess that he whispered to you:

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for this," his mouth hungrily came to reclaim yours, his other hand sliding up your waist to reach your hip and hold it in place as he consumed you.

You were in his grip, entranced, trapped in the web of desire he had woven in your mind, every thread of which you touched bringing the spider back to its prey.

His hand came up to your head and nestled under the nape of your neck, looking for the zip to take off your suit. You helped him, pressing a little harder against his lips in your kisses as you raised your head to help him pull it off.

He found it, and you could feel with what composure he was pulling it. You knew perfectly well that if it had only been up to him, your suit would have been ripped to shreds and it would have been impossible to reassemble it properly and put it back together in one piece. But he was holding back, with difficulty.

The sensation of all those little metal teeth coming loose against your back and letting your abundantly heated skin breathe sent tingles through each of your ribs and down your spine, your back arching all the more at the sensation. Maybe having absolutely nothing under your costume could be complicated in certain situations, but it had never been as practical or as pleasant as it was right now. And Miguel seemed to agree.

His hand came to pull at the fabric, exposing your shoulder, and feeling his fingers run over it made you shiver. He continued to pull gently, your chest meeting the cool air until your breasts were bare.

He broke away from your lips for a moment, watching your skin like a flame and its enchanted dance. And you were burning, your whole body aflame with his touch, his kisses, his eyes. You couldn't undress him on your side, his costume knew no beginning or end other than pixels, and you found that profoundly unfair.

Then, very gently, his hand came to hover over your skin. It barely grazed, not even touching it, passing over the roundness of your shoulder, following your collarbone up to your cheek. He placed his hand on it, and it was as if your body was a diamond, every facet of which was illuminated by the light from his hand.

"Tan linda," he whispered, nestling back into the crook of your neck, kissing the warm, tender skin there. His kisses trailed down to your collarbone, sucking on your skin from time to time to reveal violet and pink flowers.

You hummed with delight under his touch, your body lighting up and glowing a little more with every touch of his lips against your skin. They came to rest between the valley of your breasts, his red eyes meeting yours as, while one of his hands pulled a little harder on the part of your suit that was still in place, his own suit began to depixel as he straightened up to face you.

Lips parted, you watched his body reveal itself, his tanned torso sculpted like a god. But above all, you couldn't help letting your eyes wander along the countless scars that marked his body.

Various shapes were mixed in, cuts, burns, strange, sinuous lines, all marking the traces of past dangers. And he had survived them all.

Gently, your hand came to rest on his cheek, pressing against your touch and kissing your palm as you let your fingers move down his torso. You let your fingertips trace a scar, caressing it gently, Miguel's breath shuddering against your skin for a moment.

Your breath caught in your throat as his bare hand grazed the skin of one of your tits, his thumb gently tracing the bouncing skin. His lips moved down the ridge of your breasts, kissing the soft, tender skin of it.

He looked into your eyes as he stuck out his tongue and ran it over your nipple slowly, the warmth of his saliva and the roughness of his muscle sending all sorts of little stars into your body.

It was as if your flesh was bare soil, and with his hands he brought forth flowers of many colours and intoxicating scents that enchanted you, making you drunk with his touch and the colours he painted under your skin.

His tongue traced the separation between your skin and your nipple, his hand resting on the other, pressing it gently between his large fingers. Then he kissed it gently, sucking lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin. And as the moans multiplied between your lips, he stopped, a smile stretching his lips as his hand dripped down your waist and clutched the rest of your costume.

As he pulled it off, in a slow motion, he kissed his way down your belly, letting buds of caress blossom on your body. Reaching below your navel, he exchanged a glance with you, seeking approval.

As a simple response, you raised your hips, and he gently pulled the rest of the costume down, his bare fingers brushing your buttocks and thighs as he pulled until you were covered by nothing but your panties.

One of his hands grabbed your thigh, the other settled on your waist, lazily tracing your skin until it reached your groin, stopping there, drawing indescribable patterns as the fire in your lower belly heated up.

He stayed there, eyes riveted on yours, his other hand moving slightly up your inner thighs but not reaching your core either. The tingles it sent through your being were delicious, but you were getting impatient. Your pussy was almost starting to ache from the lack of touch and contact.

"Lower..." you murmured, your desires taking possession of your body, your reason silenced.

He tilted his head to one side, and the same words you'd said to him earlier in the bathroom came back to you:

"Say that again."

A grunt of frustration rattled against your teeth. Your own cards had just been used against you in your own game, and you had no say in the matter. His fingers continued to draw as if nothing had happened, sometimes reaching for half a second a little lower than where they were staying. You needed more.

"Touch me lower," you said, looking into his red eyes, which raised an eyebrow as if to say 'aren't you forgetting something?', so you punctuated your sentence with a little "please."

He smiled, dark, his tongue passing over his canine and his lip as he ran his fingers between your skin and the elastic of your panties, pulling the latter so that only the air, his hands and his warm breath covered you.

His fingers returned to your now naked groin, and he gently traced your skin, finally coming to touch your cunt, a sigh of respite taking hold of your chest as he gently passed a single finger between your lips.

"Hmm?" he hummed, raising his fingers to the height of his head, observing the sticky substance that glued to his skin, "would you look at that." Evidence of your arousal was placed before your eyes, "Am I the reason you're so wet ?"

Your head tucked into your shoulders, your cheeks heating intensely as he smiled wider.

"Tengo suerte," he murmured as his finger returned to your entrance, coating itself in more of your wetness as his thumb settled on your clit, making slow, hypnotic circular movements that tightened the knot in your lower abdomen.

Your hands clutched the sheets as you drew in a shaky breath, but he reached down and guided one of them to his hair, which you grabbed without hesitation.

"Like it when I touch you there?" he asked, echoing the words you had said to him in the cabin.

"Mhm," you agreed, unable to formulate a coherent sentence, inhaling more air as he pushed in his first finger.

His hands were big, his fingers thick, and he manipulated them all to perfection. His finger was streching you out, undulating to awaken exceptional sensations in you.

"How does that feel?" he asked, his tone composed and almost teasing in the way he asked you things.

"Good," you assented as he inserted a second finger, causing you to gasp out a moan, your eyelids closing of their own accord.

His fingers worked you out, curving up to touch the spot that made you see stars.

"Keeps your eyes on me," he whispered as his head lowered against your cunt, his hot breath falling against your damp skin, "I want you to see me."

With difficulty you complied, and he brought his tongue against your pussy, a moan of pleasure rising from your throat. The sensation of his hot, wet tongue licking your clit made your whole body burn.

Your hand gripped his hair more firmly, needing something to anchor it so that you didn't succumb entirely to all your vices. Miguel groaned at this gesture, and the sensation of his vibrant voice on your sensitive skin almost made you come in an instant.

Your pelvis moved of its own accord, and Miguel immediately grabbed it to immobilise you, his fingers and tongue working together to make you moan even more.

The sight reminded you immensely of the bullet incident: his eyes reddened, his tongue and lips resting on you while your fingers were knotted in his hair.

You were beginning to feel as if you were flying away, but it was at that precise moment that Miguel stopped, pulling his fingers out and his mouth away. You whimpered, a whiney complaint filling your mouth as you laid your head back in disappointment on the pillow, Miguel moving up to your face.

"I just wanted to make sure you'd know what it feels like."

The torment was unbearable, and you bit your lips for fear that, on the instant, you might send an insult into his face.

"Oh," he said, raising an eyebrow, "did I make you mad?"

His tone seemed almost condescending, addressing you as if you were a child. He brought his face close to yours, his eyes falling on your lips.

"Want me to fuck you, querida?" he questioned, his lips brushing yours "want me to fill you up with my cock?"

You looked up at him through your eyelashes, simply nodding in response as his simple words managed to make your hair stand on end.

"Use your words," he said simply.

"Yes," you said, beginning to learn from his lessons, trying to find more strength in your voice, "fuck me, please."

He nodded, proud.

"Good," he said, bringing his two fingers, still covered with yourself, close to your lips, "open up."

Timidly, you parted your lips.

"Wider," he ordered in a calm voice.

You obeyed, and soon felt his moist fingers on your tongue. You licked them, his eyes watching with great interest. They were thick and having them both in your mouth wasn't easy, but by relaxing your jaw you eventually managed to suck them off properly, your eyes returning to his, feverish with desire.

Without further ado, he removed his fingers from your mouth and came to kiss your lips, hungry. The entre-met you had offered him wasn't enough, and he was fasting from it to be able to taste all the other parts of you that were still untouched by his lips.

His naked erection pressed against your cunt, and your hips undulated against the sensation as you let out an excited moan against his lips, your walls closing in on nothing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he splayed his hand across your lower back, undoing the kiss to press his forehead against yours. He adjusted his cock in front of your entrance, coating himself in your juices, and just by that gesture and the memory of your hands, you knew it would be too much.

"Miguel it's," you breathed softly against him, "it's too big. I'll never-" but he cut you off.

"I'm sure you can take it, muñeca," he murmured softly, kissing your cheek.

He returned to kiss your lips, then asked before doing anything else:

"Ready?"

You inhaled softly, your eyes plunging into the red of his, before murmuring against his lips:

"Ready."

He nodded, coming to kiss you chastely before lining up his cock and thrusting in. A moan slipped from your lips, he was big, way too big.

"Shh," he soothed, kissing your temple, "you're tense cariño, breathe through your nose."

So you followed his instructions, trying to relax as much as possible as your nails on his back began to dig into his flesh. Your breath was coming in shaky gasps, your teeth sinking into your lip as Miguel whispered:

"You're doing so well," his hands gently caressing your arched back and thigh.

His voice relaxed you, your breathing a little more settled as he thrust deeper, stretching you out. He kissed your forehead tenderly, brushing the tiny tear from the corner of your eye with his lips.

"Just like that," he groaned, finally managing to fill you completely, "look at you taking me so well.

He kissed your lips gently, caressing the skin of your side. He kissed your cheek, then the side of your neck, sucking in one more mark.

Full, that's how you felt. He stretched you out fully, filling every inch of your being, meeting the warm cloud as he kissed you to contrast the sensation. And soon enough, you relaxed a little more.

"Are you ready for me to move?" he murmured, his thumb resting on your cheek.

As a simple response, breathing softly, you moved your hips on him. He smiled, kissing your lips softly as he pulled back slightly to push into you again, a shaky breath mingling with a moan that he swallowed from your lips.

His tongue came to meet yours, curling around it, sucking it between his lips tenderly as he took a slow rhythm to get you used to him.

He sprinkled kisses across your face, sloppy ones running over your warm naked skin, inevitably coming back to your neck, nibbling lightly. He traced your collarbone with his lips, running along it until he reached your shoulder, where the rounded skin was bitten and a moan was torn from your lips.

His hand came to take your arm, kissing the skin gently as he raised it, straightening slightly to manipulate and kiss it better.

His lips came to linger on the inner skin of your arms, depositing his lips gently as he traced that softened area, his pelvis taking on a slightly faster rhythm.

After the little treatment he'd given you, you weren't going to last long, so you let yourself be carried and touched by his adoring lips.

His tongue traced the skin on the inside of your wrist, his teeth grazing the separation between your hand and it. He came to kiss your palm, then delicately placed his lips on each of your knuckles before pressing it against his cheek.

Your thumb caressed it, and he surrendered to your touch. He then guided it to the side of your head, his fingers nestling in the crack of yours until your hands were intertwined.

"Qué guapa," he breathed.

His rhythm quickened, and you could feel the knot in your belly gradually tightening as Miguel's thrusting in and out of you became sublime, and the sounds you were making multiplied as he hit all the right spots.

Your fingers tightened on Miguel's hand as your other reached down his back to grip his arm, squeezing hard as you felt you were going to come.

"Miguel," you sobbed as he returned to kiss your lips, "I'm close."

It was a miracle you managed to get those few words right. The hand that wasn't intertwined with yours came to cup your face before moving down your body to grab your hip, a deep sigh escaping from his throat.

And you felt his canine gently bite your lip as the knot burst in your lower belly and a moan echoed in your throat. It was like a bolt of lightning striking against metal, spreading out in a powerful electric shock in your entire body as the pleasure beat like a second heart. Miguel's voice growled against your skin as you closed around him spasmodically, your nails clawing at his arm.

You twitched, Miguel kissing your forehead, your eyelids, your nose, your lips. You were slowly coming down from your clouds, the sensations you had gradually fading.

"Tan buena..." he whispered, close to your lips, "but I'm not done with you yet.”

His fingers loosened from yours as he grabbed your arms with both hands to pull you against him and straighten you up. He was sitting, still inside you, making you sit on top of him, facing him.

One of his hands grabbed one of your buttocks, guiding you to move back and forth on him, while his other was on your back, caressing it.

He came to attack your lips again, the sound of your two bodies meeting clapping in the air as you felt completely disorientated by the pleasure. The speed with which he entered you was exceptional, and the sensations he triggered were even more so.

His lips moved over the back of your neck, then settled on your shoulder, his breathing becoming more and more jerky.

You tilted your head back, your voice interspersed with the feeling of him pounding you, the heat in your belly not entirely gone and tightening again.

Then the hand that had been resting on your back slipped between your two bodies and caressed your clit, your breath catching as you felt the cloud spread once more to the small of your back.

Miguel's voice grew less hushed as his rhythm quickened, his fingers working your clit with speed as you felt the climax building up again.

And all at once, you felt his fangs penetrate your beloved as he gave a powerful thrust, and you both came. The earth stopped spinning as you felt like you'd been sent miles above the clouds, both your bodies warm against each other, both of you breathless.

Everything seemed soft, floating, an inner peace had taken hold of both of you as you came down from this peak of pleasure.

He held you against him gently, running his tongue over the two slits he'd made in your skin. He pulled out of you, placing you so gently and carefully on the mattress that it was as if he had a spider's web in his hands.

You snuggled up to him, and he pulled the blanket over you as he kissed you again.

You felt safe here, cuddled in his huge arms that wrapped around you, his hands caressing your body with pure adoration and softness.

You kissed his chest, on one of his scars, and he breathed a profound sigh.

"How did you know?" he whispered.

The end of his question never came, but it was simple: how did you know I wanted to be kissed here? Probably no one had ever touched him this way, here, like that.

"There's nothing like tenderness to soothe the scars." you smiled.

He breathed out, his eyes had returned to their natural brown. He pressed you a little closer to him, his eyes locked in yours. Blue words are the ones you say with your eyes, when your lips are too tired.

"Maybe we'll have to find a name for this pseudo-friendship?" he smiled, the little chat you'd had on the first mission coming back to you as you smiled and kissed him sweetly.

"Why when we already have two letters?" you replied, placing your hand on his cheek, kissing your palm as his hand caressed your waist.

"Two letters?" he asked, curious.

"Yeah," you confirmed, your voice becoming a whisper, "us."

He gave you a candid, sincere smile before kissing your lips softly.

"Yes," he nodded, "we could make a great us, muñeca."

Us, two letters, a whole world.

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wholoveseggs · 3 months

Note

Hey, just an idea that would work really well, I think. Can you do a smut with a horribly jealous Elijah? They have a casual affair going because she has severe intimacy issues, but Elijah is deeply in love and needs her to realize that?

Strings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You've denied what your heart wants for so long and Elijah is tired of waiting.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking / drunkenness, men being gross, white knight Elijah, dom!elijah (as dom as I can write it, I'm just a sappy romantic), rough(ish) sex, rim job (f!receiving), blood drinking, biting & hangovers.

{Moodboard->}

It was annoying, really, how good Elijah was in bed. You never thought you would be the kind of girl who would lose your mind over a simple touch, but you couldn't get enough. You had never felt this way, even after months of sex, and it was maddening.

You had started sleeping together on a whim, one night of drinking leading to a night of fun. It was just meant to be a one-time thing, but it became more frequent, and then more, until you found yourself spending more time with him than alone.

‘No strings attached’ you had said when you first started sleeping together, but as time went on, Elijah was getting more and more attached and so were you.

When you were underneath him, clinging to his strong shoulders, panting and moaning as he completely unraveled you, it was easy to forget that it was supposed to be casual. But then his gaze would lock onto yours, those dark intense eyes with so much love pouring out of them and you couldn't stand it.

You would close your eyes and look away, your heart beating so hard you thought it would explode. He would always pause for a second, then keep going.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't the deal, and you wanted him to stop, but at the same time you didn't. The look he gave you frightened you, it was like he was seeing inside your soul, seeing all the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep secret.

Elijah had never hidden the fact that he wanted more from you, but he had respected your boundaries. He hid how much it hurt him when you told him that you didn't want more, and you knew that, yet he kept going, because he couldn't stay away from you.

He would give you anything you asked for, and he would take anything you gave him, and he would never tell you that he was unhappy.

He was always so good to you.

Until you started seeing other people.

And then he wasn't so good.

Elijah heard the click of your boots before you even entered the compound. He'd been listening for them all morning, his ears trained to the sound, his heart lifting every time a woman with the right footfall walked in. Only when he'd heard you arrive would he relax his shoulders, his mind no longer consumed with the idea of you and another man together.

It was a new torture. Before, he had just wanted you. Now, he had you, and he knew that someone else was touching you, and that someone wasn't him.

"Beks! Beks! Oh my God, what a night!" You came bounding through the courtyard, you had a coffee in one hand and a fresh bouquet of flowers in the other. Still in the same clothes you left in last night, the only change was your makeup smudged, your hair a little messy.

Elijah watched you from the balcony above. You hadn't seen him yet. You were too busy gushing to Rebekah, who had been waiting eagerly for your return.

"What happened? I lost you after we did those shots with Klaus." Rebekah asked, taking the flowers and looking you over.

"Okay, you know that hot guy who was flirting with me at the bar? Well I went to some house party with him and a few of his friends," You said, sitting down next to Rebekah and taking a long sip of coffee. "So we were all drinking, and then we did some shots, and then a couple of lines, and then one thing led to another..."

You trailed off, grinning at her. She gave you a look, gesturing for you to go on.

Elijah tried his best not to listen, but he could help himself. He had never been able to resist the sound of your voice.

"So what happened?" She asked.

"Well, we ended up in the kitchen and he was fucking me against the counter," You said with a giggle.

"Was he any good?"

"Not really," You replied, taking a big gulp of coffee and rolling your eyes. "But the kitchen was real fancy, and there was a maid who saw us."

Rebekah laughed, shaking her head.

"That is classic, darling," She said, handing you back the flowers.

"Yeah, and then when I was on my way out in the morning I stole these right out of a vase," You said proudly, putting them down on the table next to you.

The sound of your giggles floated up to him. It was utterly infuriating, and at the same time, it was like a balm to his soul.

Elijah had never felt this way before.

Pure, untamed, jealousy.

He knew he shouldn't care, he knew he should be happy for you, but he couldn't stop thinking about you with other men. He couldn't stop wondering what it was like, what they were like. What did they say to you, did they make you laugh, did they touch you the way he did?

Did you want them, the way you wanted him?

And most importantly, why wasn't he enough?

"So are you going to see him again? Did he get your number?" Rebekah asked, breaking Elijah out of his dark thoughts.

"No, and yes. He wanted to go out again tonight," You replied.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"Maybe," You said, shrugging. "I'd prefer to go out with you guys, though. Maybe we could get Kol to come along."

"That would be lovely, maybe we could even convince Elijah to join," Rebekah said, smiling mischievously.

Elijah perked up at this and decided to make his presence known. He descended the stairs, trying to appear nonchalant, his usual charming self.

"Good morning, ladies," He said, his eyes fixed on you. You turned and smiled, and it made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey," You replied, grinning.

"We were just talking about going out tonight," Rebekah said, glancing between you.

"Oh? Where are you going?" Elijah asked.

"Not sure yet, wherever Beks wants," You replied. "But we were thinking that we could all go, you included."

Elijah tried not to react. He didn't want to go anywhere, not if you were going to bring one of your...paramours.

"Maybe," He said, keeping his tone light.

"Aw, come on, please?" You begged, flashing him those big, pretty eyes and batting your eyelashes.

"Yes, come with us," Rebekah joined in.

Elijah knew he would cave, like always. He couldn't say no to you, not when you looked at him like that.

"Fine," He agreed, and Rebekah and you cheered.

"It'll be fun, I promise," You said, and Elijah hoped so. He didn't think he could take much more of this.

Elijah found himself in the back of a car with his siblings. He had tried to stay home, to come up with an excuse, but Rebekah had dragged him out the door and into the car, saying that she didn't want him to sit at home and brood all night.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, talking animatedly to Rebekah. Klaus was driving, and Kol was on the phone with Davina, telling her all about the plans for the night.

"I can't believe we managed to get you out of the house without you wearing a suit," you teased, admiring his outfit. He had opted for a white shirt and black pants, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He looked ridiculously good.

"I can dress casually, when I want to," He said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe when you are going to bed," You replied, winking. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, the sight of it sending a rush of heat to your core.

"I'd be happy to show you, if you would like," He said, his voice deep and sexy.

The rest of the Mikaelsons didn't know about the affair you and Elijah were having. It was meant to be casual, you didn't want anything serious, and so the two of you were keeping it a secret. But they definitely suspected something was up, considering the flirting, the longing looks, and the time Klaus saw Elijah sneaking out of your room.

"Maybe later, if you're lucky," You shot back, giving him a wink.

He chuckled and shook his head, trying not to grin like an idiot. He was failing.

"Don't mind me, I'll just sit here and pretend I can't hear any of this," Kol interjected, looking up from his phone.

"Hush, brother," Elijah said, and Kol made a face, returning his attention to Davina.

You continued talking to Rebekah and Kol, trying to ignore the heat of Elijah's gaze on you.

When you arrived at the club, Kol immediately disappeared to go find Davina and Klaus was swarmed by women within seconds of entering the place.

You and Rebekah got drinks, and Elijah stayed close, trying not to stare at the way you moved your hips, the way your skin glowed in the dark, the way the tight dress you wore clung to your curves.

"Dance with me," You said, turning and holding out a hand. Elijah hesitated, his eyes roaming your body.

"I don't dance," He said.

"Liar," You accused, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd. He followed, letting you lead him.

Once you reached the dance floor, you started moving to the beat. Your hands rested on his chest, his arms wrapping around you, the two of you moving together. The way you felt around him was indescribable, and you never wanted to leave his embrace.

The music was loud, and the people were packed together. He could feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the way your breath hitched when he pulled you closer.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear, and he inhaled sharply.

"Come on, Elijah, have some fun," You purred.

"I'm having plenty of fun," He replied, his voice low and rough.

"Are you sure? You seem a little tense," You teased, your hand slipping under the bottom of his shirt, feeling his skin.

"I'm sure," He said, his hand resting on your waist.

You smiled, your eyes glittering with mischief.

"Let's go somewhere quieter, then," You suggested, pulling him away from the dance floor and towards a secluded corner.

"Is that a good idea?" He asked, his tone serious, but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Probably not," You replied, and he grinned.

You stopped, the two of you hidden by shadows, and Elijah pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the hint of whiskey, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on his skin.

He was so gentle, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you slowly, his lips warm and soft against yours. You wanted something more aggressive from him, you tugged at his hair, trying to deepen the kiss, but he kept his pace slow, steady, torturous.

You pulled away, the alcohol coursing through your veins, your head spinning. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, feel his breath hot on your cheek.

He was gazing at you, his eyes dark and intense, and you felt a surge of fear and vulnerability that made you snap.

"Stop. Doing. That." You said, pulling away.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that," You replied.

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like...like..." You trailed off, unsure how to explain it. Like he was looking at you like he loved you, like he wanted you. It was unsettling.

"Like I love you? Because I do."

"Shut up," You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He took your chin and forced you to look at him. His expression was serious, his gaze boring into yours.

"What do I have to do to convince you?" He said pressing you further into the wall, his body trapping yours.

"Do I have to fuck you so hard you never think about another man again?" He growled. "Is that what you want?"

You stared at him, unable to speak.

"Do you want me to tear off your clothes right here and now, and fuck you against the wall, where anyone could see us? Is that what it will take to convince you?" He said, his voice low and husky.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

He chuckled, and his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, making your knees weak and your heart race. His hands were everywhere, pulling at your clothes, touching every inch of your skin.

"What do I have to do to make you mine and only mine?" He asked, his voice thick and raspy, his fingers gripping your hips and digging in.

You whimpered, trying to catch your breath. He was usually so reserved, so gentle and controlled. This was something else, this was him letting go, and it was overwhelming.

"Lijah-," You moaned, trying to form a coherent thought. "I need some air," You said, pushing him away.

He reluctantly let you go, watching you walk away with pain in his eyes.

You slipped through the crowd and towards the bar, ordering a drink and trying to compose yourself. You could still feel his body heat, his touch on your skin.

"Hey dollface," A voice came from behind you. It was a guy you'd met the night before. Flashes of the fancy kitchen returned to your mind, but you really didn't want to repeat what you'd done last night.

"Hey," You said, smiling politely. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, me neither," He laughed. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thanks," You replied, finishing the one in your hand. "I'll have a whiskey,"

"Be right back," He winked, disappearing towards the bartender.

You waited for a few minutes before he came back with two glasses of whiskey.

"What are you doing tonight?” He said, giving you a flirty smile.

You gave him a coy smile, sipping your drink.

"Oh, I don't know. Whatever you're into," You said, watching his expression change.

You loved this, the chase, the anticipation of knowing what would happen next. It wasn't even necessarily about the sex, it was about being wanted. You loved to be touched, to be desired, to be looked at with awe and lust. It was easy for you, just a game that you liked to play, a way to make you feel special.

But Elijah was still on your mind, eating away at any enjoyment you should be getting out of this encounter. So you drank, more than you usually did, hoping the alcohol would help numb the feelings you had for him.

Unfortunately, it only made everything worse.

You didn't care about this guy, nor did you want to sleep with him again, you were just enjoying the attention. You needed to forget Elijah and focus on something else, anything.

The rest of the night became a blur, a messy, meaningless haze of alcohol and sounds and hands on your skin. You lost track of time, you stopped caring and you found yourself outside the club, being pulled towards his car, giggling and hiccupping the whole time.

"Come on, sugar, it'll be fun," He slurred, wrapping an arm around you. "Let's have another round at my place," He was trying to pull you into the backseat, and you were too drunk and dizzy to put up a fight.

"I don't know," you mumbled, trying to focus on his face but having a hard time keeping him in your line of vision. He flashed you a dopey smile, leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss.

"My friieennds will be worried," you protested, trying to get him off you. He wasn't really listening, his attention focusing on groping your ass. You tried to get him to let go of you, pushing on his chest, but he didn't budge.

"I'm sory-" you slurred, "tis was bad idea,"

"Why?" He asked, confusion etched across his face.

"I'm farrrrr to drunk," you said, the words coming out slowly, "I shouldna had that fifth drink,"

"You're very cute when you're drunk," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Shtop," you slurred, struggling to get out of his grasp.

You saw Elijah leaving the club with Klaus and tried to push the man off.

"My frriiieends areleaving,"

"Come on, they'll understand," he replied, tightening his grip on you.

You started to panic, the world was spinning, and you couldn't think straight. Elijah saw you and came over, the look on his face making it clear that he knew what was going on.

"Lijah-" you said, reaching for him.

The man backed off immediately when he saw Elijah, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Too drunk," you slurred, your head lolling against his chest.

He picked you up bridal style, glaring at the man, who was shrinking into himself. He brought you to the car and sat you down in the back seat, he leaned over to fasten your seatbelt and you looked up at him, trying to focus on his face.

"I'm sorry, he jus-just wouldn't stop." You said, your words coming out slowly.

Elijah's demeanor completely changed when he saw how drunk you were. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, see the fog in your eyes.

"Klaus, watch her. I'll be right back," he said, before disappearing.

You tilted your head back, the whole car felt like it was spinning. Klaus was saying something you couldn't quite make out, the words muffled.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, until Elijah came back and got in the car. He had a grim look on his face and there was blood on his shirt.

"Lij-lijah," You whispered, reaching out for him as he sat next to you. "Please tell me you didn't killed him,"

Elijah didn't say a word, just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You leaned into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," You mumbled, your words slurring together.

He smiled slightly, holding you tightly.

You began to drift off to sleep, feeling safe in his arms. He stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Elijah was hurt that you ran away after his confession. He was the patient one, the one who always waited for you, always put you first. But he was tired of waiting. He couldn't pretend to not have feelings for you anymore, so he'd said something. Then you fled, too scared of commitment, too frightened of intimacy to stick around.

He'd hoped you would give him a chance, that you could learn to trust him and open your heart. But you had rejected him, again and again, and he was done waiting for you to change your mind.

When the car pulled up in front of the compound, you stumbled out, the alcohol making you unsteady on your feet. Your heels making it impossible to walk properly.

You took a tumble but Klaus caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and helping you stay upright.

"I got her," Elijah said, his voice soft.

"I'm fiiiiinnnnneeee," You protested, trying to push them away, but you fell again and Elijah picked you up and carried you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

"Always such a gentleman," You giggled, your face buried in his neck.

"Sometimes," He said, amusement clear in his voice.

"You look very nice tonight," you added, tugging at his hair.

He brought you to your room and set you on the bed, pulling off your heels and helping you under the blankets.

"Lijah I'm cold, will you come keep me warm?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes at him.

Elijah let out a long sigh, and climbed into bed with you, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You cuddled up to him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around you. You couldn't deny the feelings you had for him, but you were determined to push them away. You didn't deserve him, he was far too good for you.

"I'm sorry, Lijah," You whispered, you placed your thigh around his hips, wrapping yourself around him. You wanted him closer, you wanted to feel his skin against yours, feel his heartbeat against your chest. "I want you," you breathed, pressing your lips to his.

He didn't respond, just pulled his head back and stared at you. His gaze was intense, and you found yourself unable to look away, you felt like your heart was being cracked open, exposed.

"No, you don't, you're just drunk," He whispered, his breath hot on your cheek. You were confused, conflicted by the emotions you were feeling, the sensations his closeness provoked.

"Let me show you," You whispered, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled back, breaking your hold.

You whimpered, frustrated, as he carefully unwound your arms, freeing himself.

"I can't keep doing this," He said, his voice pained, "it's not fair to either of us. I'm done being the second choice. I'm done being the one you run to when you have nowhere else to go."

"That's not true-" You said, tears welling up in your eyes. You felt like your heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces, but you couldn't let him know, you couldn't show how much you were hurting.

"Isn't it?" He asked, his tone calm, but there was a fury in his eyes, "I love you, but this isn't working. I'm done wasting my time waiting for you to pick me. I'm just...I'm done,"

You felt like he'd punched you in the gut, your heart was pounding, your stomach twisting in knots. You tried to think of a reply, but you couldn't find any words. You laid there in silence, unable to speak.

He looked at you for a moment, then nodded to himself, as if he'd made up his mind. He got out of bed and left without a word.

Your mind raced as you processed what had just happened.

You were overwhelmed, your emotions a hurricane in your mind. Everything was a mess. You could feel your heart rate rising, your body starting to shake, your breathing coming in shallow bursts. You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, trying to relax, but the panic wouldn't go away.

Then it started, you were shaking uncontrollably, tears pouring down your face, and you couldn't stop crying. You rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, gripping your legs as tightly as possible, the tears flowing freely as you let out a strangled sob.

You cried yourself to sleep, Elijah's name on your lips.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a mouthful of sand. Your whole body ached, and the sunlight streaming through the windows made your head throb.

You dragged yourself from the shower, then to the kitchen, in search of coffee like it was a life line.

"Morning, sunshine," Rebekah chirped, way too cheerful for how shitty you felt.

You just grunted in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and adding a splash of whiskey. "Can you turn me so I don't have to feel like shit," You asked, leaning against the counter.

Rebekah snorted, sipping her coffee.

"That's a terrible reason to become a vampire," She replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it would save me from hangovers," You shot back, and she shook her head, amused.

"So, how was your night?" You asked, and she smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"It was fantastic," She replied, and you chuckled, taking a long drink of your coffee.

"I'm glad someone had a good time," You said, and she gave you a sympathetic look.

"I thought you and Elijah were hitting it off?" She asked, and you sighed, shaking your head.

"It's complicated," You replied, not wanting to go into detail.

"It's not," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "You are just making it so,"

You glared at her, irritated.

"Look, I'm not trying to pry, but I've seen the way you two look at each other. You are both just being stubborn," She continued, and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever, I don't want to talk about it," You replied, trying to change the subject.

"Love can be messy," She said, and you laughed, shaking your head.

"Yeah, that's why I don't do it," You replied, and she gave you a look, her brow furrowed.

"You love Elijah, it's not a dirty word," She said, and you scoffed.

"I do not," You protested, and she sighed, exasperated.

"Love isn't something you can opt out of," She replied, her voice soft. "Trust me I've tried,"

You were silent, unable to think of a retort.

"You are just scared, that's all," She continued, and you looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze.

"There's nothing wrong with that, but it's also no reason to run away," She added, her voice gentle.

"I'm not running, I'm living my best life," You replied, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

She just stared at you, her expression one of pity.

"Yeah, well, maybe your best life needs some changes," She said, finishing her coffee and standing up. "I'll see you later,"

You slunk into a chair, nursing your coffee and trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

You didn't even try to deny her accusations, the words dying in your throat. Because she was right, you were scared.

You found Elijah in his room, sitting on the window seat, reading. He looked up when you entered, a small smile on his face.

"How are you feeling? He asked.

"Like shit," You mumbled, shuffling your feet.

"Understandable," He replied, looking back down at his book.

You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze.

"So, last night..." You started, trailing off.

He glanced at you, a curious look on his face.

"I'm sorry," You continued, looking down at your feet.

He put his book down and stood up, walking over to you. He kept his distance, but there was a familiar look in his eyes.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you didn't want this?" You asked, gesturing between the two of you.

"What would you have me do?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn't know what to say, you didn't have the words to describe what you were feeling. So you did what you always did when things got tough, you shut down, closed yourself off and tried to run.

You turned away, ready to walk out, but Elijah grabbed your arm, stopping you. He pulled you close, his face inches from yours.

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" He asked, his voice soft.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You tried to think of something to say, something that would make him understand, but your mind was blank.

"Because... Because I'm scared," You said, your voice barely a whisper.

He lifted your chin up, his gaze searching yours.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked, and you let out a shaky breath.

"I'm afraid of losing you," You said, your voice breaking slightly. "I'm afraid that you'll break my heart,"

His eyes grew dark and he pushed you back against the wall. Your heart hammered in your chest, fear and desire surging through your body. His hands gripped your hips, his gaze hungry and dangerous. You saw his desire, his love, and for once, you didn't want to run from it.

You pushed against his chest, your breathing becoming shallow, but he didn't budge. He was firm, unyielding, just like his love for you.

His hands traveled up your body, pushing up your dress. He pulled it over your head and tossed it aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him. He looked down at you, drinking in the sight, and you felt a rush of heat in your core. His gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, refusing to back down. He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss hungry and rough, and you moaned against his lips.

"I can't share you anymore," he whispered, his voice strained with effort, his nose buried in your neck.

"You don't have to," you mumbled, gasping when he sank his fangs into your neck. You gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

"Good," he growled, withdrawing his fangs. His tongue lapped at your neck, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

"Mine," he said, a possessive edge to his voice.

You trembled under his touch, his kiss growing even more heated. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifted your thigh, wrapping it around his hips and pressing your back against the wall.

"I'm going keep you in my bed until you understand," he growled, and you moaned, unable to think straight.

He ripped your panties off, tossing them aside before sinking two fingers into you. You arched your back, grinding against his hand, desperate for relief. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in slow circles as his fingers pumped into you.

He watched you, a small smirk on his face, enjoying the way you came undone beneath him. Something in him had snapped, and he could not longer hold back his need for you to be his. He tried many times to show you how much he loves you, but you always ran away at the first sign of intimacy. Not this time though, he was going to break down every wall you'd built and claim you.

You were getting closer to the edge, your breathing labored as your pleasure built. Just as you were on the verge, he removed his fingers from you, denying you relief. You cried out, trying to grind against him, but he held you still. He loved seeing you like this, desperate and begging for him.

"Now you know how I feel," he whispered, and you gasped, his words sending a shockwave through you.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you around, slamming you against the wall, making the painting beside you rattling in its place.

He pressed himself into your back, his hand circling your throat, the other wandering freely. He ran his finger along the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts from the lacy material.

His fingers traced your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks, his lips on your neck. You whimpered as he rolled his hips against you, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your ass.

"I'm going to mark every inch of your perfect skin," He purred, his voice thick with desire. "So everyone knows you are mine,"

He nipped at your neck, his fangs threatening to break the surface again. You moaned, grinding against him, desperate for more. He chuckled, sucking at the spot on your neck, leaving a dark hickey behind.

He pulled you away from the wall and pushed you onto the bed, forcing you onto all fours. His hands gripped your hips, and he leaned forward, licking a strip down the length of your spine. You shivered, your whole body alive and sensitive to his touch. He slid his tongue between your cheeks, stopping to suck and lick at your tight little hole, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

You tried to sit up but he pushed you back down, his tongue spearing into your rear entrance. You moaned, squirming under him, your face flushed with desire. He inserted a finger into your pussy, and began to slowly fuck you.

It didn't take long for your thighs to start shaking, your muscles tensing as your orgasm approached. You bit your lip, trying to hold back, but it was futile. You let go with a low moan and suddenly yelped as he sunk his fangs into your ass cheek.

"Lijah!" You exclaimed, surprised.

This rough, wild side of him, so completely different from the gentle, refined man you knew, it scared and excited you. The way took control was the most erotic thing you've experienced in a long time.

He flipped you over and pressed you down onto the bed, straddling you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips stained red with blood, his breathing heavy. You tried to reach up and touch him, but he pinned your wrists down. You lay there, unable to move, completely at his mercy. You had never felt so safe and loved in your entire life.

He freed your wrists kissed them gently, a soothing gesture that contrasted with the roughness from earlier. His lips trailed down your arms, kissing, sucking, and nipping at your skin. You shuddered as his breath ghosted against your neck.

You tugged at his shirt, and he let you strip him of it, his bare skin warm and firm against your own. You ran your hands over his chest, relishing the feel of him.

He pulled off his pants, laying down beside you, your naked bodies intertwining. You stared up at him, a soft smile on your lips. He returned it, his gaze unguarded and gentle. He captured your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands stroking your face and hair.

"I'm sorry for being a fool," you said softly, your eyes glassy with tears.

"Shhh," he murmured, nuzzling your neck. "You have nothing to be sorry for,"

"I do," you insisted. "I love you, I've always loved you. I was just...I was just scared to admit it, to myself or anyone else."

You looked up at him, your expression vulnerable, your eyes pleading. He smiled softly and brushed his lips against yours, a gentle kiss, almost a question.

"Be mine, only mine," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"Yes," you breathed, your heart hammering in your chest. "Always."

He parted your legs and slowly eased inside of you, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He began moving his hips in a rhythmic motion, his fingers gripping the sheets.

You looked into his eyes, feeling whole. He was giving you such pleasure, and his love radiated from him, engulfing you. Everything behind his eyes, the trust and tenderness, the pain and loneliness, you saw all of it.

It made you feel like you were part of his inner world. He was baring his soul to you, letting you in and you were doing the same, letting him see beyond all of the walls and boundaries, right into the depths of your heart and spirit.

And the intensity of it all wasn't scary, it felt liberating, it felt right. His body was just a shell for his fire, for the overwhelming love he felt for you. You both weren't physical beings anymore, but something beyond. Like you are one entity, one flame, burning bright.

You couldn't really describe how you felt, but there was this sense of completion, like you've found something that had been missing all this time. You could see it in his eyes too, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he looked lighter somehow.

You two were making love, and you were both acutely aware of it. There was no mistaking this for anything less, even if you tried. Time seemed to stand still and the outside world fell away, leaving only the two of you. No past or future, just the present.

You didn't need to talk, there was no need for words. You could feel his thoughts, and you could feel him understand yours, the two of you harmonizing and flowing with each other in an endless, gentle rhythm.

This was what he wanted all this time, to show you what sex can really mean when it is shared between two souls, two hearts. Not just animalistic fucking, but pure love-making, a deeper level of intimacy. And you understood now, you were becoming one.

You didn't know how long you had been making love, it could have been hours, or maybe it was days. All you knew was that it was the best experience of your life.

He was being serious when he said he was going to keep you in his bed until you understood. And now you do, now you understand what it means to be loved by him. What it is like to be part of him, to share that connection, that bond.

Your bodies were covered with sweat, entangled as one, both of you out of breath. Every muscle was sore but you didn't care. You were drunk off his love.

"Can we stay like this forever?" You asked, your eyes half closed, exhaustion setting in.

"Yes," He whispered, caressing your cheek. "Because you are mine, all mine,"

"Yours," you said sleepily, snuggling into him.

This was just one night together, a small taste of what being with him was going to be like, and you knew you would never be the same again. He had destroyed your walls and torn down every boundary you had built around yourself.

He held your bleeding heart in his hands, and instead of crushing it, he gave you his own.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @vamprium ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡

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dreamauri · 5 months

Note

ok so i saw your sub!lando post and for some reason the only thing i can think abt is if the roles were reversed??? j a clingy and cuddly reader (i love the fact that she’s gonna be clingy when lan’s streaming) and dom!lando cause brainrot 🤧 ok bye ilysmsmsmsmsmsm (please don’t feel pressured to write this if you don’t wanna!!)

♪ — 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗛 𝗔 𝗚𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟 lando norris x girlfriend! reader (smut) “. . . being clingy and teasing can lead up to something.”

( my master list | more of lando norris ) ( requests | taglist )

You snuggled further into Lando's chest as he gently stroked your hair. You were finally in pyjamas, sitting on your boyfriend's lap as he played games with his friends on stream. and you watched quietly. You didn't want to disturb them. but you didn't want to be away from Lando either.

You didn't need him giving all his attention to you. Leaning your side to his chest with the occasional kiss and affectionate touches was enough. You were feeling tired and sleepy anyways and you felt like you'd doze off any moment now.

"Well—" Lando cut himself off with a yawn. "The puppy that has claimed my lap as her own personal property and real estate has a very contagious desire for sleep." And with that he signed off the live stream, pulling you to straddling his lap. Your first instinct was to nuzzle in his neck, pressing soft kisses against his nicely tanned and warm skin.

"What are you doing?" He sucked in a breath feeling you wiggle on the spot. "Getting comfy." You chuckled, tone holding a slight tease as you leaned up to connect your lips with his. It was a sweet and soft kiss. Until you felt the brit thrust his hips up slightly. A small tiny moan left your mouth. And that was all it took to trigger Lando.

The kisses weren't short and soft, but longer and more passionate. You even struggled to try and keep up with Lando, the hungry pace he was going with was too fast for you. "Lan." You tried to stop him when you felt his hands trail up your thighs and under your shirt.

A yelp sounded as he lifted you up, carrying you all the way to his room and his bed. He was too quick to pull your clothes and half of his own, too desperate to feel your skin on his. "Stop." You giggled feeling ticklish as he pressed kisses to your tummy and hips.

"What?" Helooked up at you with clear concern. He thought he hurt you, but thankfully not. "I'm not having sex with that." you motioned to his facial hair that he was growing. "What, you don't like it?" He crawled up, leaning his forearms on either side of your head. "No. It tickles. And I wanna have sex, not laugh." You argued trying to hold in your smile while looking Lando deep in his eyes. You watched him as he stroked his chin proudly, going back down to where you needed him most.

"Lando no," You laugh, pushing his head away as he tries to catch your clit on his lips. "Hey—" The brit scolded you, pushing your hand away. "Let me work." You laughed at the statement, ready to mock him when a moan broke from your throat. “I take my job very seriously, thank you very much.”

"Fuck— ok ok, I'm sorry." You went to push his head away, feeling him lap and nibble on your bud. The brit made sure to hold your wrist, stopping you from sabotaging him in any way. "Lando-" "Be a good girl." His muffled voice was stern as he held your thigh, gently stroking his thumb against your skin to at least comfort you as he tongue fucked you.

His nose and little moustache were doing your clit no justice. And Lando knew it. He watched you squirm and moan his name, a jolt running up your spine every time he nudged you. “You’ll be good?” You nodded quickly, trying to hold his hand at least. But he held your other wrist too, confining you completely under his mercy.

“Can’t hear you, my love.” “I’ll be good. I’ll be super good.” You nodded, starting to heave as you felt the coil in your stomach tighten. “You’ll be a good girl?” “I’ll be a good girl, a very good girl. T—the best girl.” You promised, squirming each time you felt him intentionally drag his tongue on the spot that made you see stars.

“I’ll take your word on that.” He hummed, letting go of your wrists, concentrating on your sensitive bud since he knew you were more prone to a quick orgasm from there. Your fingers were quick to tangle in his hair, not really pulling. But since his hands were too busy trying to take off his pants, the soft curls would do for now.

“Lando, no.” You whined, leaning up on your elbow to look at him. You were almost there, seconds from a climax that would’ve left scratch marks on Lando’s shoulder. Your eyes were teary and your chest was heaving. You got up shakily, helping him pull his pants down. A gulp went down your throat seeing the size of him, hesitantly pulling his boxer shorts down as well.

“Go on.” Lando leaned back on his elbows, waiting for you to settle between his legs. “But it was my turn.” You looked up at him, begging slightly. You need him, you couldn’t wait any longer. You crawled up, sitting on his lap, a desperate look on your face as you looked between his sky coloured eyes. Lando looked at you, a smirk on his lips as he pretended to be thinking. “I’ve been a good girl.” You begged again, kissing him gently yet passionately. “Please please please.”

Lan tilted his head, smiled even wider, glancing down at his dick then you. No words or explanation was needed. You knew what he was asking you and you weren’t going to deny him. Your mind was too foggy and if it took giving him an orgasm first to receive your own, then so be it. You shifted your body between his bent knees, getting comfortable as you took his length in your mouth inch by inch. The noises he made were not helping with your situation at all. Lando’s eyes grew heavier, he was determined to watch himself disappear in your mouth and reappear, again and again.

And for the next few minutes, you picked up the pace. You even added tongue which you knew would speed up the process. But apparently not. You were suspecting he was holding back on purpose. His moans and grunts were loud, and with the occasional shift or thrust you’d think he’s on the edge. But he can’t be on the verge of an orgasm for 5 minutes straight. Looking up at him, his face was scrunched up and jaw tense, breathing through his teeth.

“Okay, okay! Enough! Enough. I’m dying.” He gave up, gently cupping under your chin and pulling you up forcefully. Your eyes were wide as you looked at what was just in your mouth. Lando slumped back on his back, breathing heavily. “I came like 7 times, Y/N.” He scolded tiredly, body practically shaking on the spot. You crawled up to him, looking at him confused. Nothing was in your mouth, you were pretty sure. Did he cum dry? You didn’t say anything, you instead gently pressed kisses to his jaw and neck. Once you lay beside him, you let Lando recover, watching his breath even out. He opened his eyes looking at you. “Sorry.” You whisper. “You should be sorry, how am I going to compete with that?” The two of you giggled softly, sharing soft kisses.

With a deep breath, Lando sat up, sitting with his back against the wall, patting his lap for you. You got on with no hesitation of course. Wrapping your arms around his neck as you slowly sunk on his length. “Awh, that's a good girl.” Lando’s praises went straight into you, a moan echoing in your throat as he connected his lips with yours.

The thrusts started shortly, gaining speed within a certain pace. You even switched positions a couple of times; on your side and back to prone, which was a little more frustrating because he was pressing all of his weight into you. You were too out of it to even unhook your heels from around his abdomen.

“You’re so fucking tight, Y/N. You’re such a good girl.” Lando huffed, arms wrapped around you as you messily made out. He eventually slipped, accidentally falling on you. All his weight now on and inside you. That was all it took for your body to rock from an intense orgasm, helpless moans and whimpers following suit. “Fuck, baby. I’m sorry.” he kissed your jaw gently, but you were practically putty, head rolling on your side as he pressed kisses, fucking you through your high.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“One, two, three.” Lando pulled out quickly, a pained moan slipping from your mouth. Your walls were too sensitive, even the action of Lando just whipping you clean felt overwhelming.

That feeling was quickly over though and you were thankfully just left with your boyfriend and yourself, cuddling under the fuzzy sheets of his bed, deciding on whether you should get pizza, chinese, or just to call max and make him cook for you since both of your legs were very much not working.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Look at these two idiots.” Max Fewtrell sighed deeply as he stood in your kitchen, pointing at your practically passed out figures to the camera that was leaned near the stove so he could cook and talk at the same time. You were splayed out on the counter in Lando's merch hoodies and shorts and Lando was on the floor only in his fluffy pyjama pants.

“Disgusting.” He shook his head as the two of you waved at the camera.

“I had to buy ear plugs when you and Lando were still roomies. I couldn’t stay over and sleep peacefully with how-” “Y/N!” Max cut you off looking at you shocked and panicked. Lando was laughing his ass of the floor while you gave Max innocent puppy smile.

"I hate you guys. Making me do forced, unpaid, treacherous labour." "treacherous?" " don’t know, sounds like a long scary word."

"Chat is cursing at you, Lando." "They hate me because they aint me. They wish they had my ass." "Lando you don't have an ass." "EXCUSE ME?!" "He’s right, Lan." "DONT SIDE WITH HIM Y/N."

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sethsclearwater · 2 months

Note

I was scrolling through the Seth master list and noticed that there’s nothing about Seth being a father and taking care of a child ( like one that is not with Paul). So I was wondering how Seth would deal with taking care of reader and baby because she is healing and might need some help sometimes.

-✨

y'all i am SO SORRY i haven't been posting!! really trying to get back to regular posting but i promise i'm not ditching y'all lol

...

you let out a heavy sigh as you sat down on the couch, unable to contain the wince that left your lips as you were reminded that you'd quite literally given birth less than a week prior.

seth and his unusually heightened hearing didn't miss the sound, peeking his head around the corner of the kitchen to see what was up, "everything okay?" he asked, eyes softening as he watched you let out another heavy exhale before nodding.

"i'll be over in a minute - just gonna put her down real quick okay?" he asked, referencing your newborn baby who seemed to always be wrapped up on her dad's chest.

seth was pretty insistent on skin to skin, never ceasing to let up on how important it was for bonding with your newborn daughter. so it wasn't unusual to see him with your baby all swaddled up on his chest while he went about his day helping clean up the house.

you hummed, cracking a smile when you heard your daughter let out a soft whine in her sleep, "you can bring her over here you know," you teased, giggling when seth rolled his eyes, a smile on his face as he stepped over to you.

"hi baby," you whispered as seth sat down next to you, smiling when seth helped her out of the baby wearing wrap so you could hold her for a bit, "i missed you," you mused, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.

seth wrapped his arm around your figure, helping you curl into his side so you could both admire the newborn in your arms, "i think we've got one of the best looking babies out there," he teased and you giggled, rolling your eyes.

seth was nothing if not insistent that you had done the world's best job of making your baby, constantly reminding you how good of a job you were doing even when you felt like the opposite.

"she is pretty," you agreed, peeking up at him only to see him watching you adoringly, "seth," you started when you saw the way he was watching you, both of you laughing.

"mrs. clearwater," he replied, the name leading you to playfully roll your eyes again at his antics.

you paused before continuing, "i love you," you murmured, deciding against teasing him some more when you realized just how infatuated he still was with you.

despite your insurmountable insecurities about having a baby and how you'd look after giving birth, seth never once seemed to see you as anything other than gorgeous.

he didn't miss a beat before he was responding to you, "i love you too," he reassured, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, "so much," he added after a moment, pulling his lips from yours so he could rest his forehead against your own.

you could hardly contain the smile on your face, only breaking your moment when you heard a familiar cooing from your baby as she woke herself up.

"oh hi sweetpea," seth whispered when he saw her brown eyes looking up at his. despite her having most of your features, she did end up with her dad's eyes - something you and seth couldn't seem to get enough of.

you smiled at seth's nickname for your daughter, resting your head against his shoulder as she reached her tiny little fingers up until she was able to wrap her hand around seth's ring finger.

"hi sweet girl," you whispered, letting out a happy sigh of content when she reached her other hand out to grab your finger as well, clearly loving having both of her parents so close to her.

#seth clearwater #seth clearwater imagine #seth clearwater x reader #seth clearwater fluff #seth clearwater blurb #twilight #the twilight saga #twilight imagine #twilight fluff #imagine #blurb #fluff

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nincompoopydoo · 2 months

Note

Hi! Happy Valentines Day, and may you have a great day! May I request from this prompt ‘ I couldn’t sleep. ’ with Bobby Floyd and shy!reader please? They'd be so cute together. Thank you so much!❤️❤️

OUR TINY APARTMENT

PAIRING: Bob Floyd x Shy!Reader WORD COUNT: 1.3k [i know i said < 1k words but i got carried away] SUMMARY: You're in love with your roommate and after accidentally finding out that he may share your feelings, all you can will yourself do is make an omelette. even if it's 3am. A/N: so damn happy to finally write for my other baby, Mr. bob floyd! thank you for your request and happy valentines! WARNINGS: swearing. TENSION. Natasha snitching. military inaccuracies idk. no beta we die like men. PROMPT: "I couldn't sleep." [from a this prompt list] MASTERLIST

Your apartment is tiny — a two-bedroom and two-bathroom apartment.

Well, it used to be huge when you first moved to gleaming San Diego. So huge that the empty void space made you feel small. From cold, dim, and rustic urban forests, your new job took you across the country to warm, bright, shining beaches. Quickly, the sounds of car honks were replaced with the cries of seagulls.

Alone in a postcard landscape with orange skies for sunsets.

Every creak and every shuffle echoed a little too loudly within these four walls; your home began to feel cold and dim.

Your apartment needed company.

You needed company.

Entered Robert “Bob” Floyd: Weapon System Officer, bespectacled, sandy blonde, responsible, intelligent, and devastatingly cute.

Bob, a naval pilot, resisted moving in with the other pilots because extroverted naval soldiers never understood the privacy inclinations and dwelled in silence for more than five minutes.

He was someone of little words, and so were you. As two introverts, you immediately clicked. Between tight smiles and awkward small talk, you saw yourselves in each other.

So, your huge apartment became tiny.

Your apartment, drenched with salt air from the sea and bathed in orange from sunset skies, remained silent – a comfortable silence. The kind of silence that lingered between two people who have normalised each other’s presence in a tiny space with an understanding that conversations don’t come as naturally and as often.

Bob understands. He always does.

It’s hard not to love him, and it has become harder to see him as only a friend when your waking days are spent contemplating on how much you want to be more than just friends with Bob.

Your chest aches at that thought.

In the kitchen is where you find yourself rummaging through the cabinets for eggs. The analogue clock ticks at a quarter to three in the morning, and the refrigerator light floods through the darkness as you whisk two eggs in a blue ceramic bowl Bob had gifted you as a peace offering when he first moved in.

Hours before, you bumped into Natasha, Bob’s colleague, at the entrance of the local grocery store. With a wide grin, she excitedly approached as you returned a bashful wave.

“Hey, you.” Natasha chirps with a growing sly smirk. “So, how did the date go?”

You blink.

“...Date?”

Natasha continues to smile with bright eyes.

“Yeah, the date with Bob?”

Your eyes widen, and your breath hitches.

“What?” is all you manage to say, and you watch her grin immediately vanish at your words.

“Oh, um…” Natasha’s expression reflects yours as her eyes dart around the area. Anywhere but you.

You’re still trying to process her words. Why would she think you went on a date with Bob?

Unless…

Oh.

“Woah, look at the time!” Natasha croaks while glancing at her watch. A nervous chuckle escapes her lips, and her panicked eyes return to you once more as she promptly waves you goodbye.

“You have a nice day ahead!”

You watched her scurry back to her car, throwing a quick wave at you again, and you’re left at the store doorstep with your heart thrumming against your chest.

And now, you’re in the kitchen, whisking your anxiety away.

With a huff, you reach for the pan hanging by the stove when the handle slips from your grasp and lands on the floor with a loud clang, followed by a flurry of pots and pans that, too, made its way to the ground, crashing.

“Fuck,” you silently curse, gasping at the sight of your sudden accident of massacred utensils on the kitchen floor. While you scramble to clear the mess, you hear the doorknob of Bob’s room rattle, and the door creaks open, revealing an exhausted Bob. Wrinkled shirt and tousled hair, he squints through tired eyes and takes in the scene before him, although, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

With a nonstick pan in one hand and the other a fork, you stare at him with wide eyes, brows shooting up like a deer caught in the headlights. He glimpses the blue ceramic bowl on the counter behind you.

He knows it, and you don’t have to elaborate: you were making an omelette.

“I couldn’t sleep.” are the words that leave your lips, uttered with a bashful tone of embarrassment.

You press your lips into a thin line and continue, “I’m sorry for waking you.”

Bob flashes you a gentle smile and waves his hand as if to dismiss your worries silently. He immediately bends down to collect the scattered saucepans and the casserole pot you never use without a second thought. You join him, knees on the floor.

“No, it’s fine. I couldn’t sleep either.”

Your heartbeat quickens at the sound of his voice, soft and merely a whisper. His drawl is a tad deeper than usual, sending your stomach a flutter. Immediately, your meeting with Natasha returns to prominence in your mind, rewinding her words. At the thought, a sense of sheepishness trails up the hairs of your neck.

A glimpse at Bob, you catch the steady furrow of his brows and the dark circles that line his eyes – a conspicuous facade to his mild distraught that you figured had kept him awake. You wondered if he had been pondering about whatever Natasha had accidentally slipped earlier.

When you find yourself back on your feet, you are immediately faced with Bob already staring at you in all his ragged charming glory, glasses catching the reflection of the refrigerator light. You spot a glimmer in his eye as he takes a step towards you so careful. You watch the way his lashes touch the expanse of his cheeks, blinking whilst attempting to hide his growing anxiety.

The tension in the room shifts as he says your name so softly, as if whatever he’s about to say next is so sacred and so secret, they’re for your ears alone.

You don’t dare say anything.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he pauses, gaze darting every corner of your face. He’s trying to get a read on your reaction. “I’m not sure how things will turn out once I say it because, well, I… like what we have right now.”

Bob nervously fiddles with the hem of his shirt, and you cannot breathe.

“This,” Bob vaguely gestures to the close space between you. “This has been the best thing that has happened to me ever since I arrived here. I would hate to ruin it.”

A twitch right at the corner of his lip. Your heart melts.

Bob huffs loudly.

“I guess all I’m asking is –”

“Yes.”

Bob blinks, dumbfounded.

You breathe.

“Yes, I’ll go on a date. With you.”

It’s simple, short, straightforward.

You watch him blink again, mouth agape. Still very much silent.

Then, a terrible feeling of dread settles in your stomach. You start to panic.

“I mean, if that’s what you’re asking. I didn’t mean to assume –”

Before you could even further delve into your self-created exaggeration of the consequences of your words, you were brought back to the reality of your apartment kitchen when Bob brings his lips to the corner of your mouth, chapped lips against your flushed cheeks.

Minutes ago, you were about to make an omelette. Now, Bob just kissed you.

You carefully watch Bob pull away from you, his palm still on your right cheek, expression reflecting a sense of an equal astonishment to your own of his actions. You feel the tremble of his exhale against your skin.

His touch lingers, his expression soft, and you finally find the courage to do the right thing.

Your hands find the sides of his face, and you kiss him, nose bumping the lens of his glasses. You feel him smile against your lips, a hand grasping the curve of your waist.

In this tiny apartment, this tiny space you share, your heart feels so incredibly huge for the first time.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd imagine

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sc0tters · 8 months

Text

New Cities Mean Fresh Starts, Right? | Jack Hughes

summary: you’ve finally moved to New Jersey and whilst most people seem happy to see you, one man in particular doesn’t. And did you forget? He’s your new neighbour!

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.21k

authors note: we have been waiting but the first chapter of the brutal series is now here! It’s a little bit shorter than what I would have wanted but nevertheless I like the ground roots it has set for the rest of the series. This is an interactive AU so you guys are the ones who drive the blurbs and social media posts for this series!

brutal masterlist

You watched as Alex brought the last of the boxes up to your apartment.

The frown was clear on your face as he looked back up to you “we promised that you wouldn’t cry!” Alex groaned at the sight of your lip quivering “c’mere,” he sighed holding his arms out for you to come and hug him.

It took you like less than ten seconds to respond as you ran over to him almost tackling your best friend in the process “it’s not too late for you to come back to LA with me.” Alex reminded you as he squeezed your waist.

This was a common moment for you two as he let his hands slide up to cup your face “I gotta stay here Al,” you mumbled placing your hands on top of his.

He smiled nodding “was worth a shot,” Alex shrugged making you laugh ��and are you sure you don’t want me to have a talk with Jack?” The Kings player added as the idea of you being left alone with Jack made him feel sick.

Sure Alex liked his friend when it came to the way Jack was around you, Alex felt better being there to tell him to lay off. The older boy felt like it was his job to protect you “I can handle him!” You complained rolling your eyes.

Being Jacks new coworker was not exactly something you were looking forward to, but your position with the Devils was a promotion from the one with the Kings and the money was also better here. So Jack was going to have to put up with you like how you planned to put up with him “just let me know if he gets too much for you.” Alex mumbled taking the cap from his head and placing it on yours.

That black cap of his was on the top of the list of clothing items that you stole from Alex whenever you went into his closet. You had the blue version of his hat but Alex’s was always your favourite “you finally letting me keep this one?” You gasped dropping your jaw as your eyes lit up.

Alex nodded as he let out a laugh “we can have split custody for it.” He proposed wriggling his eyebrows as he made you smile.

“I can get behind that.”

Your first night in your apartment was rough to put it lightly. Alex had left to go back to LA which meant that you were living on your own for the first time in your life since you had living with your best friend from the moment you left university.

New Jersey was humid in the morning as you sat on your balcony enjoying a much needed coffee and Redbull as you swore you only got three hours of sleep all together.

It was peaceful at you watched the city wake up beneath you “mom just listen to me!” Your neighbour groaned slamming the door behind him as he walked onto his own balcony.

Your eyes went wide at the disruption turning to see the what was going on “I think she’s here!” The voice all of a sudden began to sound familiar.

It was Jack.

You were quick to slide onto the floor as you tried to avoid being caught by him “I think I’ve got a new neighbour.” Jack mumbled as he had heard you hit the floor.

There was a mental coin toss going on in your brain as you contemplated what to do “fuck it,” you grumbled getting up as you brushed your fingers through your hair.

What you didn’t expect was that he’d be looking right back at you “I’ve got to go.” The Devils players eyes went wide as he stared at yours.

But before he got the chance to talk to you your legs had already pushed you back into your apartment leaving the boy alone with nothing more than the mug from your coffee and your empty can of Redbull “move into the place with no neighbours they said, it’d be fun they said.” He grumbled to himself slamming the glass door behind him.

Today was going to be a long day for the both of you.

Sure you knew what you were doing was going to piss Jack off but you were friendly with Luke and wanted to have at least one friendly face at work.

short stack 😎: howdy neighbour 🤠

tall shot 🦅: what.

tall shot 🦅: NEIGHBOUR?!

Your couldn’t help but laugh as your phone began to ring with Luke’s contact information lighting up your phone “hey tall shot,” you smiled walking into the prudential centre for your introductory meeting with the players as the previous photographer had apparently been integrated pretty well amongst everyone.

Luke shut the door behind him as he obviously didn’t want Jack to hear about this “you better not be fucking with me short stack.” The nickname was something he had called you for the last three years from the moment he overtook you in height. It started off as a joke when he had said it since there was the guy who was trying to flirt with you and Luke came to your rescue and the joke his came from there.

You giggled hearing his words “you think I’m lying?” You asked smiling as you sat on your chair “come and visit the media office when you get to the centre.” You proposed grinning to yourself.

The youngest Hughes boy chuckled to himself “I’ll be there in a bit shortie.” His tone was serious as he now looking forward to all of those fitness tests that he was going to be put through.

What you didn’t know media day meant was that you were going to be forced to be stood alone with each of the players individually.

John and Nico and each offered to show you around the city and of course you accepted on both occasions because Luke’s inevitable tour was going to be to the nearest Costco and maybe to the apartment building gym “who should I send in next?” John asked sending you a toothy grin as he grabbed his jersey to pull over his head.

You looked at the list of player you had left “little Hughesy would be nice,” you proposed ready to see the youngest Hughes boy again “you got it!” He called out walking to the door “oh one more thing.” John spun around to face you as he smiled.

Your head tilted up to look up at him “yep?” You cocked your chin as you sent him a grin “you’re gonna fucking smash it!” His words of encouragement made you laugh as he walked out of room.

With the little time you had left to try to work on things in preparation for Luke’s arrival as you pulled his jerseys off of their stack “pretty sure that you’ve got the wrong Hughes jerseys.” The voice came from the door causing you to drop the hanger on the floor.

You spun around so fast that you almost fell over “now do you mind telling me what the fuck you are doing in Jersey?” Jack asked letting the door slam shut behind him.

Fuck.

#brutal au #Jack Hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x reader #imagines #oneshots #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you

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lovelyhan · 1 year

Text

— mirage ⟢

he loves with a passion that bleeds into his actions, never his words. you can see it in how he doesn’t make a sound. how he’s seemingly on the cusp, teetering dangerously across the knife’s edge. you're nothing but a stranger to him and yet he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

★ FEATURING; wonwoo x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 3.5k words

★ TAGS; strangers to lovers, lawyer!wonwoo, one night stands, smut

★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI!)

★ NOTES; i've been studying non stop for this exam i gotta take on wednesday and instead of getting some sleep, i reworked another old fic into a svt one HEHE this was a tears of themis fic i wrote almost 3 years ago and couldn't help but imagine wonwoo in artem's place 🧍‍♀️

★ SMUT TAGS; no specifications abt gendered anatomy, soft sex, really vanilla, aftercare

★ TAGLIST; i'll update this when i get on my computer lol

You spot him early into the evening—lights dim and music blaring, but the sight of him is no less blinding, no less enchanting to someone like you.

He looks like a white-collar fellow, shirt buttoned all the way up as he hangs a stuffy-looking coat across one arm. Vigilant eyes, neatly gelled hair, domineering presence—everything about the man screams ‘professional’ and ‘sophisticated’.

But what is an Adonis like him doing in a place like this?

You continue observing from a distance, nursing a drink you sweet-talked a college boy into buying for you. God knows where that guy went off, so you let yourself ogle the gorgeous newcomer a few minutes longer.

He’s no regular—this you’re completely sure of. Even if you didn’t spend as much time as you did in this bar, you can tell from the tension in his shoulders that he isn’t well-acquainted with Seoul's nightlife.

The man takes the laminated menu that the bartender slides over the counter, perusing its contents like he’s ordering at a family restaurant. When he’s made up his mind, you could almost hear how polite he probably sounds while ordering the mildest drink on the list. Sparkling water, maybe.

You don’t waste any time.

Mister tall, dark and handsome becomes considerably wary the moment you slide into the stool next to his—complaining about your ghastly work life out loud. The bartender eases into his role as your wingman seamlessly, much to your amusement. He tells you how his new patron needed a break from the monotone of a nine-to-five biorhythm, too.

“No, it’s not that,” mystery man laughs softly, and God, if sex had a voice, he is most certainly the one behind it. “A friend recommended that I drop by when I have the time.”

“You’re not the type to get plastered alone, though, are you?” A tentative smile worms its way onto your face. “This your first time?”

You half-expect him to deny it, like every stingy salaryman you’ve tried to seduce in the past. But Adonis here seems more honest with himself than most.

“Kind of. And I do have my reasons,” he sighs, dark eyes piercing through yours as he holds out his hand. “I’m Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo. Beautiful name befitting of a beautiful man, but thank the gods you aren’t cheesy enough to say that out loud.

You introduce yourself out of courtesy, yet you find yourself quite fond of how the syllables of your name roll across his tongue when he repeats it. There’s nothing even remotely erotic in the way he speaks, but something about this man just pulls you in. Like the polar ends of two magnets, you’re unable to resist the attraction.

The small talk is sparse. You learn he’s an attorney in one of the city’s big-shot law firms, and you tell him about your childhood dream of opening a flower shop in return. He already lives the same cycle of corporate slavery as you do so you doubt he’ll be interested in your trivial work stories.

But…he asks anyway. About your job, your boss, even the work environment. Wonwoo seems like someone who likes to delve into the details—even if you’re no one but a complete stranger he just happened to meet tonight. He’s so catastrophically different from the idiots you settled with for a good time, and you’re afraid he might be setting the bar a little too high. No man looking for someone to warm his bed for the night can be this sincere.

Although, there is one thing that Wonwoo and the unwitting men in this place have in common.

You know the look in his eyes a bit too well. Sadness. Dejection. Resignation?

Who did he lose? A girlfriend? A boyfriend? You have no means of making sure without asking him directly, but you’ve encountered enough heartbroken souls to pick them out of a crowd with ease.

A man as prolific as he is won’t purposely visit a shoddy establishment like this. That’s if he isn’t rearing to forget whatever—or whoever—is weighing on that pretty little head of his.

Wonwoo patiently sips on a glass of bourbon (not sparkling water, thank God) as he listens to you drone about the flowers growing in your balcony. From the looks of it, he doesn’t seem like an ordinary ‘yes man’ either. He even asks for tips on growing aloe vera because he’s heard the natural gel is good for the skin. A handsome hunk that’s polite and gives a damn about skin care? You could marry him on the spot at this point.

“Do you have any favorite flowers?” you wonder.

He considers your words for a moment and you watch the way he traces the rim of his glass with his finger. When Wonwoo meets your gaze, you see it again. That hint of sadness carefully hidden beneath a kind smile.

“Roses,” he murmurs. “As cliché as the preference might sound.”

You shake your head. “Not at all. Roses are big in the market for a reason, but…”

“But?”

“You’re going to think I’m petty if I say it...”

Wonwoo laughs, bringing the glass to his lips as he takes another sip. God, why does he look so unintentionally sexy in everything he does? It’s so unfair…

“I won’t question the expertise of a veteran gardener,” he reassures, and your heart warms at his blatant sincerity. “I take it that you’re not very fond of roses?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah. They’re kind of tricky to take care of. Once, I tried to grow a rosebush but I kept pricking myself on the thorns. Roses are pretty but they hurt.”

“Pretty but they hurt,” Wonwoo repeats the words under his breath. “That’s one way of putting it.”

And then comes the silence.

For a moment, you’re seized by a twinge of panic. The atmosphere suddenly became stale the moment Wonwoo uttered those last words, and you aren’t sure how you should respond. Bartender-wingman is serving someone else on the other side of the counter, so you can’t exactly rely on him for moral support. Oh, God. What if Wonwoo thinks you’re just some pick-me person that makes growing plants a personality trait?

“It’s getting pretty late.”

You startle the moment he speaks again. Wonwoo downs whatever’s left of his drink before flashing you another heart-wrenchingly genuine smile.

“Yeah. The night just passes by when you’re enjoying a conversation,” you laugh. “Do you really have to leave so soon, attorney?”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No, not really. It’s my day-off tomorrow. How about you? Didn’t you mention you’re from downtown Seoul? That’s a bit far from here.”

You wave away his inquiry. “Nah. I can just take a train back. I’m used to the commute.”

“But you’re under the influence.”

“But I’m not drunk.”

“My apartment is just a few blocks away,” he insists, clearing his throat. “I think it’s safer if you stay the night first. It was raining quite heavily when I got here.”

You stare at him with your lips slightly parted—the gears turning in your head when you finally realize what he was trying to do.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you say, grinning from ear-to-ear, “are you saying you want me to go home with you?”

His face flushes so badly, even his ears turn red. “Is it working? I mean— I didn’t think I’d really meet anyone worthwhile when I decided to go here, so—?!”

“Good enough for me,” you sigh, getting up from your stool as you link your arm in Wonwoo’s—tugging him along. He sputters a little before fishing out his wallet, and you don’t comment on how he drops a fat wad of cash onto the bar without counting it.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks, unfolding his coat to drape it across your shoulders. “I don’t want to be imposing.”

You scoff when he leads you to the parking lot. True enough, the rain still hasn’t pittered out when you got out of the bar. Maybe taking advantage of his offer isn’t so bad after all.

Grabbing Wonwoo by the front of his shirt, you make him lean down to your level with a smile. He makes a disgruntled noise out of surprise, but doesn’t struggle. You take it as a positive sign. The coat on your shoulders smells like fresh detergent and expensive cologne. You’d be a fool to walk away now.

“Yes, attorney, I’m sure,” you tell him sweetly. “Now why don’t you show me where you plan on growing those aloe vera, hm?”

Spoiler alert: he does not get to show you at all.

Despite how demure he looks, Wonwoo is surprisingly responsive when you jump him the moment the door to his apartment shuts. His lips are sinfully soft, molding his flesh against yours as he pushes his coat off your shoulders, onto the floor.

Though you’re very much liking the feel of his large hands slotting themselves on your hips, there's still a hint of hesitation in his touch. Like he’s unsure whether he wants to carry on with this or not. You pull away with a pout, fingers teasing the buttons on his iron-pressed shirt.

“We can just…hang out if you don’t want to,” you offer.

Wonwoo laughs breathlessly, taking one of your hands in his. You shoot him a weird look before heat starts to creep up your face as he plants a soft kiss on your knuckles.

“What makes you think I don’t?”

His hands travel south again, fitting the swell of your ass in those large palms. You sigh, slotting your lips together again as you jump—wrapping your thighs around his waist before you feel Wonwoo pressing you up against the wall.

Even the way he kisses is enough to drive you over the edge. He doesn’t have the displaced ferocity that most of your old flings thought made make out sessions hotter. You’re not particularly fond of overeager men, and Wonwoo’s pacing is tempered just the way you like it.

He licks into your mouth slowly, sensually, as if he wants you to embed the feel of him tonguing his way in your frazzled brain. You can’t help the moan that reverberates in your throat when he detaches himself from your mouth—taking the time to pepper your neck with little bruises.

But while he’s busy making his mark, your eyes end up focusing on the picture frames Wonwoo hung on the walls of his doorway.

You thread your fingers in his dark hair to distract him as you study each picture. One depicted what you assumed is Wonwoo with his colleagues at the law firm, smiling professionally for the camera. Wonwoo himself looked like a million dollars—tailored suit, unwrinkled shirt, debonair visage. You wouldn’t have mistaken him for anyone else.

But you also notice how his right hand is entwined with someone else’s. A man in a sleek gray blazer, his blond hair falling across cat-like eyes.

He’s present in the other frames, too. The first is a shot of him and Wonwoo sitting on a park bench, the other man sleeping soundly with his head on his shoulder. Wonwoo gazes at him with so much endearment in his eyes, it could only be called love.

There’s another photo with two more men in it. The blond grins brightly with one arm draped around Wonwoo's wide shoulders, while the other attempts to headlock another man whose eyes disappear when he smiles. In the background is someone much shorter than the three—equal parts annoyed and amused by their antics.

“Hey.”

You startle enough to lose your grip around Wonwoo’s legs, and you end up barely balancing yourself on the carpeted floor. Wonwoo laughs, and you shoot him a disgruntled look.

“You’re distracted,” he comments.

Well. Now that the cat’s out of the bag…

“Is he…your boyfriend?” you ask nervously, pointing at the blond in the picture frames. “I’m not committing adultery, am I?”

Wonwoo manages a sad smile, undoing the top buttons of his dress shirt before casting a sidelong glance at the frames mounted on his wall.

“He was about three years ago,” he admits. “But he’s getting married soon. You don’t have to worry about being a third party.”

The house is silent as you observe Wonwoo with keen eyes. It’s been three years, yet the grief in his gaze is still so raw. You’ve been with enough people to know if they’re only doing this with you for a good time, or to forget about someone else.

And you’re more than willing to help him with the latter.

You hook your arms around Wonwoo’s neck before bringing him down for another kiss—one with more fervor, more intensity than you would otherwise offer. He doesn’t reciprocate for a moment, seemingly astonished with your sudden vigor. But in time, he melts against your lips until one after the other, both your clothes start to litter the hall.

His mattress is soft when Wonwoo gently lays you atop the sheets, worshipping every inch of skin you’ve willingly exposed. But after he rises back to meet you in a fleeting kiss, he presses two fingers on your bottom lip. You’re embarrassingly compliant, parting your lips at the same time, inching your thighs apart somewhat subconsciously.

You get his long, dextrous digits nice and wet—tongue swirling around his skin as you cover them in a sheen of saliva. Wonwoo doesn’t say a word, but there’s an uncharacteristic glint in his eyes that you never would’ve associated with him earlier in the evening. A smolder in his usually composed gaze that makes you want to see just how far you can push him.

Wonwoo embraces you with one arm when he slides those spit-slicked fingers along your entrance, preparing you with a delicious stretch that has you keening his name into the cold air of the bedroom. He remains silent still, but you can feel those eyes on you regardless. The heat of his gaze penetrates into your being as his fingers make good work between your legs. When he kisses you again, your lungs feel like they’d been set aflame.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper, lips trembling as he rests his forehead against yours. “Please…”

He chuckles again, soft and reassuring as he lifts your thighs with strong hands, bracketing them across his hips. The cut of his abs from where you can see them look so well-defined, you wonder if he works out regularly. But once he maneuvers around to rid himself of his boxers, your thoughts drift to another impressive segment of his too-perfect-to-be-real body.

The familiar sound of a foil package being torn open snaps you out of your reverie. Wonwoo sighs as he rolls the rubber around his length—face red with lust or embarrassment, you aren’t quite sure. But when he glides the tip of his cock along your swollen entrance, you nearly sob.

“Want you…so bad,” you whimper, grinding down against him. “Wonwoo, please, please—!”

His initial preparation is all for naught, it seems. Because when the beautiful man above you finally buries himself to the hilt, you’re momentarily blinded by the pain of his entrance. You gasp out loud—tears welling in the corners of your eyes. But Wonwoo swallows the noise with an open-mouthed kiss, framing an apology on your lips as he wipes away the tears.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, brushing your hair away from your face. “I got a little excited.”

He stays still inside you, watching you get used to the stretch. The patience is a little endearing, given that you’re accustomed to just getting fucked out of your wits. Wonwoo even takes the time to trace comforting shapes along the skin of your thighs in an attempt to calm you down.

“You can move now,” you tell him shyly, turning your head to avoid his gaze.

Wonwoo nods once, pulling his hips back slowly before easing inside you once more. You sigh, burying your face in your hands as he builds you from the ground up, stoking the flame he started inside you the moment you laid your eyes on him.

“I want to see you.”

You jolt when he pins your hips in place with one hand while seizing your wrist with the other. There’s a crease on his brow, like he’s disappointed with you hiding your face from him. But the look immediately morphs into something more captivating.

Then he makes a particularly rough thrust that coaxes a broken moan from your lips.

His sudden, unrelenting pace continues from then on out. Wonwoo grips your thighs hard, but not enough to leave bruises. His discretion makes your heart flutter, but you can’t quite bask in the sentiment given that his cock is hitting all the spots that make stars dance in the seams of your vision. You clench your walls around his length, desperate to get a reaction out of him, and it works. Wonwoo bites his lip like he doesn’t want to make any forthcoming noises, but you bring him back down again for a kiss before anything else.

“You don’t have to hold back so much,” you murmur. “I can take it.”

Those dark eyes widen with surprise, and you can almost feel his self-control snap.

But contrary to your expectations, Wonwoo doesn’t start fucking you into the mattress like a wild animal. Instead, he hoists your hips even higher, holding your body at an odd angle. You’re about to ask what he’s trying to do, but when he plunges his cock back into your weeping hole, the words evaporate on your tongue.

Deep. He’s so impossibly deep that you fear it’ll take you days to sweat him out. A trail of saliva dribbles on your chin as Wonwoo slowly guides you to the apex of an orgasm. Your toes clench, your fingers tangle themselves in his hair. His name sounds like an incantation on your lips, and you wonder if the gods would let you have this man forever.

But…

He loves with a passion that bleeds into his actions, never his words. You can see it in how he doesn’t make a sound. How he’s seemingly on the cusp, teetering dangerously across the knife’s edge. You’re nothing but a stranger to him and yet he looks at you like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

That man is lucky, you think—to be loved by someone as devastatingly devoted as Jeon Wonwoo.

Wonwoo comes down from his post-coital high a bit later than you do. But regardless, he takes it upon himself to carry you over to the bathroom despite your protests that you can do it yourself.

Even the way he washes the evidence of your sultry affair is equal parts firm and tender. He cleans you up patiently, doing the same for himself before handing you a fluffy white towel from the rack. You blush, noting how the fabric smells exactly like him as you dry yourself.

The two of you climb back into bed thereafter—not bothering with clothes, and instead choosing to bask in the heat of your bodies. It feels nice, pressing yourself against his toned chest, and Wonwoo doesn’t seem to have any complaints to raise either.

You don’t expect any pillow talk, nor does it come. After all, this is just one night. Though you’re curious about that old flame of his, you don’t really want to ruin the nighttime mirage you’ve weaved for yourself.

The rain continues to pour outside his windowpane, but the feel of your bodies slotted together can keep you warm for the night. It’s just you and Wonwoo, legs tangled underneath his expensive sheets.

Nothing more, nothing less.

When morning comes, you’re alone on the queen-sized mattress.

Last night’s rainshower has long passed, and you’re forced to squint at the sunlight filtering through a crack in the blinds. You blink groggily, fumbling around Wonwoo’s room for your clothes. You don’t know where he is, but you’re sure as hell going to see yourself out before he gives you a polite rendition of ‘please get out of my house’.

As softly as you can, you shut the door once you’ve dressed yourself—glancing around in the living room to check if the coast is clear. You remember leaving your bag somewhere on the couches last night, and it should be—

“Hmm? You’re leaving?"

You jolt like a cat thrown into a bathtub at the sound of Wonwoo’s deep voice. When you turn around to meet his gaze, you see him at the entrance to the kitchen. Like you, he’s fully dressed now, albeit in more casual clothes compared to last night’s corporate uniform. But what baffles you the most is the cat-printed apron he tied around his waist. The scent of frying pancake batter fills your senses, and your mouth immediately waters.

“Uhh, I figured you’d want to kick me out first thing in the morning,” you laugh nervously, scratching the back of your neck. “Didn’t want to overstay my welcome and all.”

Wonwoo shoots you a confused look before laughing. “Kick you out? I’m not that terrible a person, you know. Come on, I’ve made breakfast.”

He marches back into the kitchen like you have no say in the matter. Like he actually expects you to follow and join him there. Your jaw drops into a semi-offended scowl…

But you stride after him anyways.

⟢ end notes: if you spot any mistakes, do forgive me. it's 3 am and my brain is mush LOL. and if it wasn't obvi enough, the ex is junhui and the dudes in the photo are the 96z 🫡

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen fanfic #lovelyhan #I CNAT BELIEVE I FORGOT THE TAGS SNDJSA #full length fic 📚

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lyramundana · 4 months

Text

No feelings involved...right?

Prologue and Part 1

Warnings❗: Implied baby trapping, dubious consent. It all happens at the end.

If their current predicament could be resumed in one sentence, it'll sound like a mother's voice saying "I told you so".

They didn't plan it. It all started with a small mishap, a consequence of their exhaustion and the amount of issues going on in their personal lives. Then the mishap repeated itself, and then they decided to turn it into a game for their own pleasure, no strings attached to her. Then the game grew beyond their control and became a mountain of lies, too big to seize them.

Jisung first met her through a friend of his, and although he found her beautiful then, she didn't catch his attention beyond that. They met frecuently, since they both ran in the same circle of friends, and after one night being left alone by their drunk friends, they spent the time talking and turned out they had more in common that he thought. They clicked, in a way it's hard to explain, but just felt like he knew her since forever. They went from mere acquaintances to suddenly having her name appear at the top of his contact list along with Minho's.

Minho met her through his boyfriend, of course. He first saw her when Jisung brought her home to hang out, without even warning him about it. Their introduction was pretty formal, quick. They shook hands, made some small talk and Jisung inmediatly stole her attention again. Minho wasn't interested in befriending her and viceversa, but Jisung was their common point and she eventually became a regular presence in their apartment, so they really had no option but get along. Forced proximity and all.

Jisung has always known a lot of people, plenty of familiar faces that tend to flock towards him wherever he goes, but few of them can say they truly know him. Jisung cracks jokes, plays long with them, but rarely speaks about himself. He keeps a careful, calculated distance, because he knows that despite all those smiles and compliments, they only see the surface, what they want to see, and don't care about the rest. Which it's okay, it comes with the job, and this facade actually helps to keep undesirable people away without being rude. But she...she's different. From the moment she spoke to him and he listened, he found there was more to her than what she showed. Like him, she never allowed people to see beyond the surface, simply letting them believe the version they liked to spare herself the headaches. She understood him. And for the first time in years, Jisung felt a genuine connection to someone besides Minho.

The funny thing is that they don't talk that much, outside those events where the whole group meets and they stick together to not get bored. And when they get to talk, it's mostly about stuff only they know and deep, phylosophical converstations where they discuss the meanings of life. Maybe, if he's in a certain mood, he complains about a recent argument with Minho and asks for advice, but that's not the norm with them. When he brings her home is to get drunk over petty drama and gossip, without the others. They just fall back in the comfortability of a quiet friendship where no small talks were needed and they could simply let go of their masks.

Things between Minho and her weren't ideal at first. The few times they interacted was when she was at their flat, usually drunk and leaving a mess, and he got mad at it. He could look past it when it was Jisung, but having a stranger doing it was something else. He made sure of letting her know after the drunk haze, barely holding back the bite in his words. He expected her to get offended or feel embarrassed, but no. She never showed an ounce of shame, instead replying him with the same snarky tones, and sometimes that small lopsided grin of hers that made his blood boil. But what started as mostly petty arguments and cold greetings turned into a sense of complicity when they realized their humour was similar and they both acted like Jisung's babysitters more often than not.

Minho is used to be misunderstood. His resting bitch face, his brutal honesty, his reserved demeanour and that perpetual indifference in his face that rarely expressed emotions. People were quick to form opinions about him and not all were good. He was considered cold, arrogant, a snob that didn't like to mingle with those he saw "beneath him", you get it. Most wondered how someone so sweet and cheerful as Jisung could fall for him. It's okay for Minho, he doesn't see the point in caring for what strangers may think. The people he loves know him for who he is and that's enough. Then she came, all carefree and playful and open-minded. Jisung only spoke good things about her, but Minho knew his boy could be biased. Until they started talking and he found out she was truly different. She wasn't intimidated by him, even though he pulled the worst of him sometimes with her around, but she never reacted on it. She was quick to stand up against him, all prideful and confident. And her lack of respect felt like a wheeze of fresh air. After being constantly misjudged, it felt nice to have someone apart from Jisung that made an effort to see through his facade.

Before they noticed it, she became a constant in their lives. Even if they didn't meet often, even if the phone calls sometimes got short, she was present and they felt it. Whenever they needed a favour, she was the safest option. When something juicy happened, she was the first person they called. Even when their fights got brutal and they had no one to seek advice from, her door appeared in front of their eyes.

She never turned down, although her complaints were very much heard. She acted as a bridge between them both when they refused to take the initiative, pushing them to apologise and communicate their problems and feelings. Minho was stubborn, but Jisung could easily win him at times, and persuade them to move past it was a pain. Nevertheless, she did it every single time, to the point the walls of her house and the natural scent that filled it became so familiar to them.

They genuinely don't know when things started to change. They talked it before and both agreed she was beautiful, easy to the eyes, but nothing more. Sure, she was a vital part of their lives now but that's all they wanted her to be. At least that's what they told themselves until that night behind that club, when they tasted her for the first time and found the missing piece they had been bothering them for so long. That annoying empty space in their sex life that have appeared coincidentally shortly after meeting her..

Of course, things couldn't be the same after that mindblowing experience, not like they wanted it to either. They planned the whole affair while she slept in their arms, dead to the world. It was easy to convince her, with her body still vibrating by the last events and her mind still waking up. Granted that wasn't exactly correct from their parts, but they were slightly desperate and the idea of letting her go after that sounded awfully wrong.

And so that was the start of their downfall.

Looking back, they asked for it. At first it was all very natural. They were still friends but now they also fucked sometimes. She was open to every kink and preference of theirs, and she also introduced them to her own tastes. No commitment, no explanations expected or needed. But when their encounters became more often it got harder to stay away from her, they had her sign an NDA to continue. Which was..okay, not something they accounted for but it wasn't necessarily a problem.

No, the problems started when their feelings began to get in the way of the commitment-free arrangement they wanted.

Their doll was a gorgeous creature, a delightful sight for sore eyes, and they knew it. She was like this when they met her and they had no problem with it, Jisung even admired it and made jokes about it, about how ridiculous easy those idiots fell for her charms, scrambling on their feet to get an ounce of her attention. But at some point, seeing such scenes evoked less amusement and more disgust. And following disgust, there was something else. Something twisted and painful and deadly that climbed to their throats when another worthless scum tried his luck with her. Minho could heard this tempting voice in his head telling him to rip their guts out and Jisung imagined a number of creative scenarios where he taught that bastard a lesson.

Sometimes, those voices told them to grab their precious doll and drag her away from those dirty hands, keep her near where they couldn't lose her, which was weird because she meant nothing to them. Just a close acquaintance they casually fucked from time to time very often. And yet...

These sudden, strange emotions were translated in their bed.

The sex with her was always rough and fast, and the only aftercare that ocurred was sharing a smoke in bed over some small talk. But suddenly, it wasn't enough. Their usual routine felt short, uncomplete, unsatisfying. The mouths started to trace her face, her body, the marks they left on her. Their movements turned slower, more gentle, more precise. They wanted to see how it was when she burst in pleasure, when she gave herself up entirely in their arms. They kissed, caressed, worshipped the entirety of her skin, and they whispered words of praise in her ears for the duration of it. And when it was done, they needed wanted her close, lulling her into sleep as their arms trapped her against them.

"You're doing so, so well, doll. Can you give us one more, please? You look lovely like this."

"Look at you, already crying and shaking. Shh, it's okay, love, we got you. Leave it to us, okay'"

But when they couldn't stand that twisted feeling in their guts, after seeing some other clown trying to steal her away, both men turned animalistic on her. They were all confused at this change, and the two of them couldn't explain where did it came from. They just felt the urgent need to cover her in bites, scratches and hickeys, in every place where those undeserving eyes feasted upon. ¿How dare those assholes? ¿Didn't they know she was with them? ¿Had they no shame? ¿Did they really think they stood a chance?

"That's it, keep looking at us, slut. That's where your eyes should always be. ¿What the fuck were you thinking, uh?"

"¿You wanted him to fuck you too? Is that it? You greedy whore. Clearly we need to fuck you more. We'll make sure you can't even talk or walk without our help."

And it didn't end just there. They started to bring her to their dates, inviting her everywhere they went, giving her their clothes. They had love-hate feelings towards her revealing dresses, because as much as they enjoyed the view, they hated seeing others do the same. She became part of their routine, outside the sex part. She was always there. And as time passed, it felt like she had been there since the beginning. They hardly remembered how things were before she came.

But they kept lying to themselves, lying to everyone. This wasn't anything. They could stop whenever they wanted to. There no other feelings involved. Of course not.

And things finally went downhill when someone asked them:

"So, that girl that's always with you two, what's the deal with her? Is there something serious going on? Because you have to introduce her to us, then."

That question struck them. Brutally.

They never thought too much about it. Things with her just...happened naturally, and they barely noticed it. They simply followed their instincts at the time, not realizing the weight those actions could hold. ¿What was the deal with her, truly? Granted, she was more than just a quick fuck, but still. And what was up with them? Why the fuck did they want to meet her? She was perfectly fine where she was.

At the end of the day, the three of them moved in different worlds. There were things about themselves they couldn't tell her, things she would never understand. Maybe that was better, they thought. To keep her away from that circus of drama and lies and dirty secrets they were part of. She didn't belong there. And to keep her far away from idiots butting their noses where they shouldn't.

So they quickly defused the situation. She was just an acquaintance, they didn't really know her, yeah. They already had each other, it had always been just each other. She meant nothing.

If she did, where did that leave them?

¿Were they supposed to know someone was going to post their answer on social media? Were they supposed to know she would see it and demand explanations too?

Yes

They never saw her so angry, so emotional. She was bursting in anger and sadness and dissapointment, and they could both feel how their hearts stopped at the sight. It didn't feel right.

When she started to speak, they sort of panicked. They couldn't control the situation this time, they couldn't control her, and they didn't have proper answers for it. At least, not the kind of answers that would help them.

Most of all, they were confused. As she confronted them with facts, about how their strange behaviour with her and their motivations, they were forced to acknowledge the reality of everything.

That she meant more than they thought. Way more than they wanted her to. It was a liability. A problem. An unexpected turn of events they weren't prepared for.

And because they weren't prepared, they simply said the words that sounded logical at the moment. Cold statements of what they all knew, of what they agreed on the beginning. They didn't truly mean it, as they would realize later, but they felt cornered. And at the moment, the only strenght they could rely on was their pride.

They foolishly thought she would stay after that. That she would see their point of view and calm down.

As expected, she didn't. When it fell on them the terrible error they made, it was late. She left the place. Emptied it of whatever part of her and blocked them from her life.

And as expected, the aftermath was fucking disastrous.

Being deprived so suddenly from her presence after getting used to have her near everyday was hellish. No more calls, no more dates, no more lazy afternoons in the couch. She was gone, leaving a gaping hole in their lives that they couldn't fill, no matter how much they tried. And god knows they did.

No vice or person could replace the feelings she invoked in them.

They turned down invitations, calls of friends, choosing to stay at home and just hang out by themselves. Staying at home too long drove them insane, but going out wasn't much better. She was everywhere. In the streets, in the shops, in the people. It was a nightmare.

When a close friend of theirs invited them to the opening of club, they only accepted in hopes for a distraction, and to keep appareances a bit. But the cold, boring night inmediately acquired a brilliant colour when they saw her.

More beautiful than ever, with her pretty dress and carefully done make-up. Her damned smile brightened the whole club and, for a moment, they felt in peace. Like nothing changed.

Until they saw she wasn't alone. Her warm arms, who used to be held by them, were now occupied by other men. Some they didn't know. A pair of strangers taking their rightful places, and she just laughed and danced with them like it was normal.

They spent the whole night like that, watching her and brooding, with that familiar green boiling in their stomach. She looked gorgeous, out of this world, and it wasn't fucking fair. That should be them. She should have been with them, filling their ears with her cute laugh and letting them wrap their arms over her.

Deep down, they knew they fucked up. It was solely their fault. They had their chance to make her stay, to trap her, and they messed up. ¿Why did things have to be this way? Why did they have to realize the size of their mistake in a moment of jealousy? It was stupid.

When they saw her walking outside alone, they exchanged a glance and they knew it.

They made several mistakes, but they learnt from them. Having her hating them was better than not having her at all, so they followed.

It was so easy to fall back into routine. She was already weakened by their presence, and it was the same for them too. Some yelling here and there, insults being thrown back and forth, a bit of fighting, but they ended up right where they wanted: Locked bathroom, against a wall, and the music covering their moans.

They didn't stop until she was bursting with their cum, pushing it right back inside where a drop ran down her legs. Until there wasn't a single trace of skin unmarked. Until she couldn't fucking walk without their help.

And when few weeks later, she showed up in their apartment with three positive tests, they pretended to be shocked and made her move in with them.

They could already see the picture she would make. It was going to be perfect.

(i had this shit collecting dust in my drafts for a millenia and today i had a strange burst of inspiration to finish it. sorry for the waiting to those who asked for this part)

Taglist: @hanjisunglover @queenmea604 @linlinaert @bluducky @jinnie-ret @aalexyuuuhm @noellllslut @skzms @thightswideforhanin @aliensfoundthisblogl @k-krissten @stayconnecteed @hanjibug @roseykat

#skz scenarios #skz imagine #han jisung scenarios #lee know scenarios #minsung x reader #han jisung imagine #lee know imagine #minsung imagine #minsung scenario

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sehodreams · 4 months

Text

Pathetic people also fall in love

WC: 7.3K (I’m so sorry it feels like with every fic I write more)

S: Eunseok is busy enough with his life, he has an 8-year-old daughter and is overworked at his job, he didn’t need to add another thing to that list, so when he puts the unused room in his house for rent, he expects his life to become easier, not to wonder why his tenant is so hot!

TW and Tags: Singledad!Landlord!Eunseok x Tenant!Plussize!reader, aged up Eunseok for the story, all consensual, mutual pining, smut, p in v, use of condom (poor Eunseok is traumatized after his first daughter), fingering, mentions of dacryphilia, fluff (I think near the end, if you don’t think so please let me know and I’ll erase it from here), they’re just two losers falling in love.

Comment: Hey guys, sorry for not having post much lately, this was actually first a Sungchan fic because an anon asked me for a Singledad!Sungchan, but while writing I thought wth this is my baby Eunseok and changed it. I want to clarify that this is not dark at all, so be careful if you go through my other fics because most of them are, I’m all soft since 119, still hope you like it!

You were the best tenant anyone could ask for, and Eunseok knew that, so why was he acting as if he was desperate to drive you away?

When you moved to the room next to him in his house he had his doubts, you were younger than him, which usually meant problems, like drunk boys out of his house throwing up on his flowers at midnight, or loud music when he tried to work, but he needed the money and the extra help, and when he interviewed you, you were relatively fine, a young girl that moved away for school and was more than eager to help around for a significant discount on her rent.

You were so fresh, a 22 year old student with the character of an older sister, and he liked that, you always paid your rent on time and made cookies on friday night instead of going out, you also took care of his daughter when he needed to go out in an emergency at work, only asking for some food when he came back, so you were a good girl and the best tenant.

He couldn't lie to himself, he liked you a lot, which made him feel pretty much guilty, because you were just a sweet young thing who hadn't discovered how the world worked, while he, even if he was still young at his 27 years, had gone through everything in a rush, from heartbreak to disappointment and frustration, perfectly knowing he shouldn't look at you the way he did.

He had too many responsibilities to let himself be swayed your way, he had an 8 year old daughter, an overworking job and too many things on his shoulders, and your presence had started to bring him problems, especially at night, when he dreamed of fingering you in the kitchen before breakfast to thank you for making his coffee, or you receiving him in the entrance wearing nothing but an apron with flour stains, and after you gave him a taste of your freshly baked cookies, he dropped to his knees to taste something even better.

He dreamed all that and woke up feeling more tired than when he went to sleep, and with a painful boner that wouldn't leave him alone until he came over the bathroom titles when he took his quick morning shower, thinking of you with him there, taking his length like the good girl you were.

He couldn't look at your face when you said good morning, the guilt making him blush to his ears, wishing he could go back in time and not let his impulses win over him, because he was sure you would feel repulsed if you ever found out what he thought about you.

For you, he was just your landlord, the older guy with a daughter that worked in a restaurant and brought you leftover pasta every now and then, nothing more, and he had to come around that.

But you made it so hard, making breakfast with your pajama shorts and the thin t-shirts that showed your beautiful nipples, bending down with that gorgeous ass when you pulled the tray out of the oven, or with the sound of you vibrator that woke him up at 2 am, with your little moans going through his wall and making him gulp before he decided to wait for you to cum to go back to sleep.

He could help you, he thought that every time he heard you, he could walk the five steps to your room and fuck you like you deserved, nasty and rough, telling you how good you acted that day, making his favorite dish for breakfast, or playing with his daughter until he came back home, "Such a good girl, don't you want to be my little wife? Such a sweet thing should cum over a real dick every night".

His cheeks became red, he shouldn't be thinking that, not before work where he could do nothing to soothe the need.

He rushed to the door, with his coffee cup in one hand and his daughter backpack in the other, she was already waiting for him in the entrance when you ran to them, were you going to give him a goodbye kiss? He wished.

"I made too many of them yesterday, take them for lunch" you gave him a paper bag with two muffins, he felt the sweet aroma of them through the bag and his eyes followed your lips when you talked again, "I already put one in her lunchbox, these are just for you".

He wanted to kiss you so bad, he didn't care that your hair was still ruffled from your night, or that you weren't wearing any makeup at all, he thought you looked fucking gorgeous in that moment, and he wanted to kiss you to say thank you, thank you for being so good, thank you for treating his daughter with care, thank you for everything you do for him even when you didn't need to.

"Okay" he said, and left.

"Okay?" Sungchan asked when he arrived at work and told him what he did.

"Okay" Eunseok passed his hand through his hair, exhausted with everything, with his 10-hour shift, his daughter telling him she missed him, and his body not being able to sleep properly because it needed his tenant.

"What an asshole, that sweet thing just gave you two of the best muffins in the world for free, she made your coffee and helped you get your daughter ready for school, and you say 'okay', not even a 'thank you'? Man, if I was her, I'd leave your pathetic ass immediately, doesn't matter how cheap the rent is" he grabbed one of the little pastries and was about to eat it when Eunseok snatched it from his hand.

"Mine" he said and walked away, making Sungchan scoff.

He didn't meant to be so cold, it was like his body was in survival mode, trying to save his feelings from getting hurt before he even got a chance to do something about them, it'd be too uncomfortable if things didn't work out, you were precious for him, and he didn't want to lose you, but if he kept acting like that, he wasn't just going to drive you off, but you'd hate him in the process, and he couldn't deal with the thought of you hating him, not like that.

That night, when he arrived from his shift, he brought pizza and your favorite drink.

He left them in the counter and walked to his daughter's room, the house was in silence, his daughter already sleeping in her bed and after giving her a good night kiss, he searched for you, you were nowhere sight, so you must be in your room, right?

When he knocked no one answered, where could you be?

You came out of the bathroom seconds later, with just a towel wrapping your body, your tits were overflowing from the grip it did to not fall and he couldn't help but watch you from head to toe, your uncovered shoulders, your soft thighs, even your pretty feet with red nail polish.

"Hey Eunseok, you're early today" you proceeded to tell him about what his daughter had for dinner and how she was sleeping already, and that you were waiting for him before you went out. Almost everything got lost in his ear, he was too busy watching your back and the drops falling down your neck.

"I brought pizza" was the only thing he could say.

"Thank you, I'll eat it after I come back" you closed your door before he could say anything more and, not knowing what else to do, walked to his room.

He looked himself in his mirror, his boner was showing in the reflection and his face was red, he really had a problem, so he took care of it while listening your soft voice singing on the other side of the wall, feeling like a pervert when he finished over his hand.

He changed his clothes for something more comfortable and went to the kitchen to eat a slice of pizza before bed, he was tired and even if he came back earlier than normal, his body was exhausted from all the nights without sleeping well.

He was just finishing his portion when you walked down, looking like a fucking angel ready to take him to the afterlife.

You were wearing a white flowy short dress, showing your beautiful curves and the full of your chest through the cleavage that made you look even more angelic.

But where were you going dressed like that? It couldn't possibly be...

Your phone sounded before he could ask and you ran to open the door, a skinny boy with long black hair was there, waiting for you with the worst resting bitch face he had ever seen, so different from your excited ear to ear grin, "Hi Wonbin" you said with your pretty smile, and he only gave an acknowledged nod in response. Asshole, he thought.

He couldn't say anything to stop you from going out, to scream how you were his and how that lanky boy couldn't give you what he could, he wouldn't appreciate you like he already did, because he didn't know how special and amazing you really were.

Eunseok, still in the same place, heard the door close and then a car starting outside, driving away.

He felt fucking pathetic looking at you smile to another man and leaving the house with someone like him, but maybe that little boy was better than him, even if he didn't like the thought, he could be younger than him, and not have a daughter, just a normal boy for his age, without the weight of thinking about the future, because he didn't have anyone who depended on his actions, just himself.

He closed the pizza box and grabbed a beer, such a pathetic loser, he told himself, having the girl he wanted so close and stopping himself from getting her, blaming his circumstances instead of the reality of him being a coward.

The night felt longer than usual, he used to think that nights didn't have enough hours to rest, and now, with you outside, he thought it felt endless.

He just needed you back home, to know where you were, and what you were doing, with him steps away, to know you were safe.

Hours passed and when the eleven-news started and some traffic accident showed on the screen, he heard a car park out of his place, recognizing your steps to the door. When you opened the door he saw you alone, with a sad look and your pretty hair different from when you went out, as if you tried to brush it with your fingers to look put together before you walked in. His blood wanted to boil at the thought of him touching a single strand of your hair, but he was too preoccupied with your face, what could've happened in your date for you to arrive like that? Was he the jerk he appeared to be? He knew that boy didn't deserve you, but at the same time he wished he was wrong.

"Welcome back" Eunseok said, giving you a small smile. You dropped your purse to the floor when you saw him, looking too exhausted to reciprocate the awkward greeting smile. He felt bad for you, you continued with the disappointed air all over you and he didn't know what to do to cheer you up, "there's still pizza in the kitchen".

You denied his offer, walking to the couch he was sitting, letting your body fall on the other side of it, leaving a big space between you.

You watched the news together for a couple of minutes, in total silence. He understood you didn't feel like talking, you went out after such a long time, getting all dolled up with a dress he had never seen you wear before and such uncomfortable shoes. You almost never went out like that, more into comfortable loose clothes, and around the house you never used make up. He still saw you gorgeous though, but Eunseok was different, he thought that when you had your hair up in a ponytail while cooking, or when you left his daughter use her toy makeup on you, and he loved to see you wearing that swimsuit when you played on the child pool with her, your tummy showing through the clothing and your full chest covered with a top that wasn't your size, it couldn't be your size, he swore that because every time you used it your tits were too much for it and the fabric was hanging on for its life over your body, which to be honest, was incredible hot for him.

And you did all that for a boy that couldn't even walk you to your door at the end of the date, he can't imagine what else did he do that night to make you come back home with such a disappointed look.

"How was the date?" He asked and sipped his can of beer, trying to appear nonchalant, like he didn't care, but he was dying to hear about it.

"It wasn't what I expected" you answered while taking off your high heels, he saw a little blister forming on your feet and he wanted to grab them and give them a well-deserved massage, he was dying to do something for you, but he shouldn't, so he did the only thing he thought would comfort you without him touching you, he passed you his beer for you to take a sip, which you did, you grabbed it and drank a big gulp of it, looking a bit more refreshed after, making him feel good with his choice. "He made me pay for the movie tickets" you continued.

Eunseok opened his mouth, not believing what you told him, he knew the boy was going to be a jerk, but to such extent?

"Yeah, I know" you said when you saw his surprised expression, making you laugh but from embarrassment. "I... I didn't know how to say no, we were already in the que, and I thought that maybe it wouldn't be that bad, maybe it was going to be just that and then he'd pay for the popcorn, I-I don't know what I was thinking"

Of course you knew what you were thinking. You didn't go out with him for the movie, you wanted to get laid, and he was the only one who had offered to go out with you after so long, you didn't have another choice.

You weren't an easy girl, you knew you deserved more, but since you had moved to Eunseok's house you felt more and more needy, praying every day for him to not notice how your thighs clenched when he was around you, or how you touched yourself when he took care of his flowers under the sun, the sweaty look of him was too much for you to contain himself, and you had fallen for various reasons, how he always took a few of his precious creations to decorate your room, how he always brought you your favorite pasta when it was on the daily menu of his restaurant, even how he made sure you were always comfortable around him and his daughter.

How could you not fall for a guy like that? So caring and sweet, and you lived with him, it was like torture to have his smell around you, his body, his warmth, and not be embraced by him.

The only reason you accepted to go out with Wonbin was because your friends told you he was going to be a good fuck, but the only nearly good thing that night were his guitarist fingers playing with your pussy during the movie, "for the ticket" he had said, but you honestly would've preferred the money. It felt good for a second, the teasing was hot, and you told yourself it'd get better, but when he took you to his car and to that dark place instead of a nice room and a comfortable bed, fucking you in his backseat and coming after a few thrust, all that after he asked you to give him head, pushing his fingers on your well braided hair, making a mess of it even when you told him you didn't feel like it, everything got boring for him and he drove you home in an uncomfortable silence.

You felt disgusting when he dropped you off and immediately drove away, leaving you there in front of the house, not even checking if you walked in safely.

The only thing you could think while walking those few steps to the house was Eunseok would've never treated me like that.

So, when you opened your door and saw him sitting in the couch, in front of the tv, when he should be asleep after a long work day, waiting for you, you wanted to cry, because he hates the news, and he would never watch them willingly when he could use that time to sleep instead.

You contained yourself and sighed, biting back your lip from quivering and showing how weak you felt at that moment, you were a big girl, and you couldn't cry every time something went wrong.

But you couldn't deny that you were also more vulnerable because of him those days, and how he was pushing you away when you tried to get closer, just that morning, when you gave him those muffins, it hurt you to hear the 'okay' came out of his mouth, it felt like you were being too much for him and he didn't know what to say to your advances anymore, and perhaps that's why those days he seemed in a worse mood, troubled with your presence near him.

When he offered you his beer you feel slightly comforted, how pathetic, you thought, a girl feeling comforted just because the guy who was rejecting her gave her a sip of his beer.

Some pop star was in a dating scandal and you couldn't care less, but you didn't want to leave, you wanted to be with him for more time, as long as he allowed you.

"Did you want to go out with him?" He asked after a couple minutes. You denied with your head.

He finished his beer, so he got up and walked to the kitchen, coming back with two cans and opening one for you, sitting slightly closer this time.

"Then why did you accept?" Some politician was talking about being honest on his campaign, what a bullshit, he would lie, just like you, a normal human being, has being done since you came to that house, acting like you didn't feel anything for Eunseok, and that everything you did was out of your heart, it partly was, but you did it more eagerly because you wanted him to look your way, to maybe see you different, not the young girl that rented the room next to his in his house, and if not an equal partner, at least some kind of comfort from his daily life, something to come back after his tedious routine and that could give him the peace he needed, just like he and his home did for you.

You decided to not lie anymore, if he asked you something, the least you could do was to be honest with yourself and with him, you didn't have long until everything spilled out of the glass already full of your feelings, and it would kill you to move away from him, his daughter, his house, and everything that had become familiar to you those months, but if you were still going to get hurt, you should be honest before everything went to hell.

You drank another big gulp of your beer before talking again, to feel more confident, "I wanted to get laid". He almost choked with his drink, coughing and looking at your direction to try to find out if you were making a really bad joke or you were telling him the truth.

You didn't look at his direction, some festivity was about to start in a few days and the city was getting ready for a festival, it looks pretty, I should go with his daughter before I move out, you thought.

Every day you had contained yourself from going to his arms, kissing his lips and asking for him to pay you attention had come to that, and you had resigned to leaving when he asked you to, because if before he was uncomfortable, now he was going to find you unbearable, and it would kill you to stay and see the place you called home crumble in front of your eyes.

Still, you had never felt so free.

He saw the decision written all over your face, you knew what was going to happen next, and he was afraid of the outcome, of what was going to happen if you ever left him, what would he do without your coffee? Without your laugh filling his house, without the smell of your shampoo all over the room after you took a long shower, or with the way his daughter had started to depend on you for certain questions, just, what would he do without you?

He wanted to come home after his shift to be welcomed by his two favorite girls all over the world, and he was an adult, he would get over it with time, but he didn't want to, he had already compromised with many things, with leaving college, with not going to friend's parties anymore, with only drinking beer once a week, with not being the first place in his life never again, he had already accepted too many things, and you leaving wasn't one of them.

"Well, you didn't have to ask another man when you have me right here" he couldn't process what he said, he just said it, his lips moving before he could think twice. You stared at him taken aback from his words, you expected him to call you dumbass or anything along that, but he was making clear you had permission to see him not like your landlord or just an older guy, but like a man.

Your eyes interlocked and the tension got thicker, both of you were closer without any of you noticing, shoulders touching, and when you moved your face slowly towards him, waiting for him to tell you he didn't mean what he just said, he tenderly grabbed your face and made you kiss him, erasing all distance between you, finally.

Your eyes shut and you kissed softly at first, tasting the lingering bitter flavor of his cheap beer, enjoying every second of it, until you whimpered on his lips, and he, reacting to it, tapped twice with the palm of his hand over one of your thighs, to signal you that he wanted you to be over his lap.

You let your weight fall over him and he loved the way he felt your ass flushing with his knees, his hands roamed all the way from your waist to the softness of your legs and followed the same trail back, addicted to the way your body, even being bigger than normal and nothing like he ever had in the past, felt perfect on his hands, as if you had been designed for him and only him to touch and indulge in.

The hem of your dress had rolled with your movements and his hands didn't help neither, trying to lift it up as much as he could to feel the plump of your ass.

"To the movies with a dress like this one? Tell me the truth, did he finger you with people around? don't you feel any shame?" He asked, making you rock your hips over his boner. You sighed on his neck, not daring to look at him in the face, shame creeping your red cheeks.

"Why do you say that?" You asked curious of his remarks, they were true, but how did he know?

"Because he's no better than me, and I'd have done it too", he made you look at him, one of his hands still over your ass and the other on your jaw, admiring you over him, his glossy eyes were all over your face, from your flushing cheeks to your lips with the mild cherry color of your lipstick that was almost completely removed by his kisses "you're too pretty, no one would be able to resist" he said, lips finding your again, kissing you deeper, wanting to satisfy the part of him that had been screaming for your mouth every day until now, as if it was possible to ever calm it.

You started to blush even more, embracing him with your arms around his neck to kiss him better, and after a couple of seconds, when he let you breath and hide your face on his neck again, licking his lips and still making you bounce with the strength of his hands on your waist, moving you to his liking, his bulge perfectly touching your clit under your panties, you nodded to his past question, Wonbin did finger you, and you did feel shame, but with him, with Eunseok, you were sure you'd have let him take you right there in front of everyone and you'd have said thank you when he finished with you.

"I'm sure he fucked you, did he fuck you in his car? He doesn't look like the kind of boy who takes you to a nice room to give you what you deserve, I'm sure you couldn't even cum once with him, this sweet thing needs to be taken care of by someone who can handle it, someone like me" he whispered that to your ear, biting back his groans and making fun of you trying to hide your soft moans, adding to that the way you nodded to everything he said, he felt exhilarating, wanting to tease you even more, wondering what would happen, would you cry for him to stop? Or even better, would you cry for him to not stop?

The thought did things in him, and as a result, his thumb touched your pussy over the fabric of your panties, fumbling around it to feel how wet you were getting, making you moan louder than you expected, sensitive after being teased before but not finding the satisfaction you needed.

You supposed it was that, how Wonbin played with your pussy just hours before, you didn't think it was probably from all you went through for months, hiding the way you needed him, or how you played with yourself thinking of him behind your door, everything accumulating and being too much for you in this moment, the cathartic minute in which you finally were feeling his body against you, his aroma as close as you begged past nights, and his hands prying the place that suffered his absence the most.

"It hurts" you cried, begging for him to touch you directly with his hands. The air in the room was hotter and your untouched skin was burning. Your hips moved perfectly over him and he imagined himself making you lie on the couch to fuck you until you screamed, he was in pain too to be honest, too many nights needing you almost made him weak, but he wanted to enjoy it as much as he could, in case it was the only night he'd have the privilege of having you, to never forget you in case what you had decided for tomorrow didn't include him.

He kissed you again, he couldn't take you there, on his ugly old couch, he had to take you properly, like you should be treated, "I know baby, I know" he said, eyebrows frowning and breath hitching from getting closer to his orgasm, he had been too painfully untouched and sure you were the same, asking for each other at midnight, each of you in their own rooms, praying for the other to do something about their desire, "let's go to my room, okay? I know you can do it for me, I need to touch you more, and for you to be comfortable in every moment of it, my precious baby"

You wanted to tear up of how good he talked to you, giving and asking for compassion at the same time. For him, you had earned the right to be treated like that, to demand it from him, working hard and giving parts of you he didn't ask for and hadn't realized he needed until you came into the picture of his dull and exhausting life, making it brighter and more bearable every day you spent together.

You didn't want to move, so close of your first orgasm over his lap, but he clapped his hand over your thighs, telling you to move away from him "come on angel, I know you're a good girl, you heard me, let's go" you were a good girl, his good girl, so with the pain of your heart, and your clit, you moved out of his lap, letting him drag you by the hand to his room. The path was short, just the staircase and a couple steps to his room, but the way he was showing you his back, making you walk as fast as him to get to his bed, made your pussy throb. This was happening, really happening, and you smiled feeling content.

When both of you arrived to his room, a secret place you had never been able to set a foot in before, door always closed, you sensed the last line between you both blurring, because nothing, not even an earthquake, would make you get out of his bed tonight, you'd receive everything you had been yearning for, and you'd be grateful at the end, in case he only accepted you one time.

He kissed you again against his door, making you stand on your tip toes to meet his mouth. Your chest was touching his and you were dying for them to touch directly, without any fabric stopping your nipples from feeling his hard chest, even if he didn't train that much anymore, you had seen him come back sweating after a morning jog every sunday, waking up at 6 AM to come back with your favorite bread freshly baked.

While kissing he made you walk back to the bed, pushing you over it and taking off his shirt to then go back to his duty over you.

His mouth couldn't leave you alone, and groping everything he could with his hands and rutting his erection over your pussy, he made sure your lips, and your tongue, were focused on him.

"Please, I need more" you told him, tired of not feeling him on your skin.

He didn't answer you, two of his fingers found your clothed pussy and pressed your underwear, sensing how wet you were under his fingers, a big warm spot was formed, and he decided to not tease you anymore over it. His palm went under your panties, and if over your panties he felt you wet, now you were dripping. His hand was quickly covered on your juices immediately, making him groan, how could he tease his baby so much when she was suffering like that?

"Fuck, I’m sorry angel", two of his fingers found your hole and started to play with you, fucking you without problem because of how wet you were, and you received him like all the time, making him feel welcome with your warmth.

Your body was shaking under him, hands on his chest touching his skin, trying to grasp as much of him as you could, slightly pushing him away of how good he was working you with just with his fingers, but without the force to actually do it, it was just your body reacting to him, because you really wanted him to be closer.

"Wait-" strangled words wanted to come out of your mouth, he was so good with his hands your eyelids were fluttering and the only think you could see in the dark room, with the little light coming through his curtains, was his grin watching your pussy take his fingers, and his arm making that possible.

Two fingers became three and his hand started to fuck you more, like trying to find something inside you, fingers in and out on scissoring movements, until you started to cry louder and leak over his hand, making him feel proud of his work, "that's right baby, come on, cum all over my hand".

You had your first orgasm, making a mess on his hand and your panties, it was uncomfortable to keep wearing them, wet and sticking to you, so he took them off, making you lift your legs to take them. You didn't know if he could see you in that darkness, but he could, your pussy glistening was impossible to ignore, and the image in front of him was everything he had been dreaming of for months.

He took of your dress too, enjoying the view even more, you weren't wearing a bra, and your tits jumped in front of him, gravity making them fall a bit to each side of how big they were, so fucking hot.

His mouth went to your little buds, tongue flicking over one and grabbing the other, and exchanging the work between each of them after he thought it was enough attention to one. They were so soft under his hand, skin overflowing his grip and making him think maybe I should die here, because there was no place more comfortable than there over your beautiful chest.

"Eunseok, please don't tease me" You cried under him, you had watched him so concentrated on your chest you didn't want to distract him, but the pain on your pussy was becoming too much for you, and you were still leaking all over his grey sweatpants.

"Such a crybaby" He smiled, pulling down his sweatpants and his boxers, just enough to free his cock and put the condom he had on his nightstand, he wanted to fuck you, but he had already learnt his lesson, he wanted to take care of you for a long time, to fuck you many more times. He slapped your pretty cunt with his length, enjoying your little jolts. "Sorry, it's because you're the prettiest girl, I couldn't contain myself" he said, pushing his dick over you, simulating the way his cock was going to fuck you in just a second, you opening your legs even more without you intending to, all so he could be closer to you "I'll give you what you want, don't worry" he kissed your forehead to take your attention away from the tip of his dick sliding through your hole, but it was so long he still had you squirming under him, even with all the preparation, you felt him stretching you like no one had done before, "You're dripping all over my bed, it's because of me or him?" He asked after his cock made a wet sound when he finished pushing it into you.

"Uh?" You couldn't process his words, too lost into the sensation of his cock inside you, fucking your guts, so deed the only thing that went through your mind was fuck me, fuck me.

"Who made you like this, me or him?" He repeated his question and you realized who he was talking about, Wonbin, and even if he had fucked you, he was nowhere near Eunseok.

"You, Eunseok, just you" you cried, his hips had stopped for a second to hear your answer, and when he heard the desperation on your voice, he understood you weren't telling him just what he wanted to hear, but the truth. Your nails started to mark his back and he, because of the intensity of the moment, didn't feel it, too concentrated on the sensation of your walls accepting him so easily, something uncommon for him since his length was bigger than normal, but of course his little angel would do it without problem, you were made for him, and he had no intention of ever sharing you again.

His hips moved again, pulling as far as he could to dive all in, making your tears drop one by one of how good you were feeling, you felt high, like touching the sky, and with each trust he took you back to earth, to that room, demonstrating you how the only thing you needed to feel complete was him.

Your heart was racing, you could hear it beating on your ears, but you didn't know what was that you were hearing, his cock making you ignore anything else that wasn't him and his groans.

"Fuck, so tight, has no one been taking care of you since you came here? I'm sure your little toy doesn't compare" he asked and the rhythm of his hips increased, his cock pushing deeper with each thrust. "Were you thinking of me when you used it? Did you want me to hear it so I could go to your room and fuck you?" You shook your head, you used it because you were too horny after spending time with him, and just the image of him coming back home with his white shirt and his ruffled hair made you crazy, he always looked so stressed you had to resist the temptation of dropping to your knees to suck his cock when he told you your daily good night, your mind only repeated I'm here, please use me!, and without being able to receive anything from him, you had to rely on your toy.

You wanted to talk and tell him everything, but no coherent sound came out of your mouth, your insides were being so fucked any function in your mind had shut down, focusing only on your pussy and the pleasure he was giving you.

You couldn't talk and that frustrated you, making multiple tears fall down your cheeks, sobbing at this point. Your hands didn't want to let him go and you tried to hug him and get him closer to you, but you were crying so loud he had to stop to check on you one second, to make sure you were okay.

He looked at you worried "what's wrong baby? Am I being too much?" He caressed your cheek with his thumb and cleaned the strand of tears.

You denied, focusing all your mind into talking again "feels so good, please don't stop". He stared at you for a long time, appreciating your face and your body, trying to get all into his memory to never forget how beautiful you looked at that moment, crying for him and his cock, begging for him to not stop.

He didn't know what he would do if he couldn't fuck you again, if before he was deep into you, now he was in a place that had no escape.

You moved your body under him, trying to get the same feeling from seconds ago, making you forget everything again, making you forget who he was, who you were, and what would happen after you both finished.

"You have no idea of how much I fucking like you" you wanted to say me too when he talked, but his hips had started to work you again and you could only moan loudly when you tried to talk, so you decided to bite your lip to stop being too noisy instead. "I'm sorry baby, I know you want to be loud, but we'll get in trouble" you nodded, understanding why he said that. He put his hand over your mouth and kissed your temple while fucking you, pushing you to the same abyss he was in, needing more of your juices to make a mess over his bedsheets, to let your smell linger around him for more time.

The way he was looking at you was something you'll never be able to forget, something you had never seen before, no one, in all your life, had stared at you with such intensity, full of need and possession, like screaming mine, mine, mine, and you couldn't correct him, he was right, you were his.

Your walls clenched around him and he let your mouth free to kiss you again, his tongue had intruded into your mouth, stealing the little air you had and making you even more dizzy, mind scattered all around the room like your clothes, pushing his dick in a more erratic way, not calculating so much how and what to push, just feeling.

"I'm so close, cum with me angel, fuck" his hips were practically punching yours, making the sound of both skins clapping so dirty you felt yourself tightening just with it. You nodded, both of his arms were on each side of your head and your hands held onto them, trying to not fall wherever you felt you were about to, as if he was going to push you, with him, into some state of clarity you had never experienced before.

He did push you into something new, the orgasm was so hard you lost yourself for a second, mind becoming black and eyes rolling for a long moment, your heart and breath completely stopping and toes curling into the bed, feeling his cock throb inside you while some liquid leaked out of your used pussy.

He brought you back to reality with soft kisses. His hair was sweating over your forehead, and you felt his skin sticky against yours, but you felt complete, after so much time, you were where you should be, in his room, on his bed, with him and only him.

He let his body fall over yours, squishing you with his size, his cock was still inside you, and you didn't want him to move, he could stay like that all night if he wanted, you'd never ask him to move.

Sadly, he moved apart minutes later, when both of you had regained their breaths and your hand was caressing his broad back. He lifted himself, still between your legs, pulling his dick out of you to remove the condom, making you whimper a protest. He laughed quietly, looking down at you, such a needy baby.

He walked out of the room and you started to get doubtful, was he going to regret everything you had done? You loved every second of it, you didn't want to be apart from him ever again, but maybe... Maybe he just needed some release.

Your eyes started to get wet, you always thought you would be satisfied with one time, but you became greedy after feeling his touch, and one time would never be enough again.

He came back minutes after, you heard his steps, but you didn't turn back to him, afraid of what he would tell you.

"Angel, I brought you your tea, have some before you sleep" he touched your shoulder and made you look at him, when you did, he gave you the softest smile and moved a strand of your hair out of your face. You wanted to cry again, touched by his treatment.

You drank some of it, still fresh and cold, while he cleaned you with a wet towel between your legs, so you could sleep more comfortable.

Then, when you gave him the cup, he tossed the used towel away, and, after leaving your cup over a couple of his gardening magazines on his nightstand, he made you cover yourself under his bedsheet, lying next to you, accepting your hug into his arms and giving you a goodnight kiss on your forehead, erasing all doubts from your head, because he'd never be able to give up on his little angel again.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #eunseok x reader #eunseok smut #eunseok scenarios #riize imagines #riize scenarios #plus size reader #chubby reader

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nekokoaa · 10 months

Text

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (II)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

3.1K words | (2/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: Good news, this fic has been extended to 5 chapters! 6 if I decide to do a chapter in Miguel's POV. We'll see! Also I think some people reached out to me about a tag list! Definitely comment on this post if you want to be added :)

Also on AO3

II.

The first session was the staple of this agreement for a while. To the point where it felt like you were disturbing Miguel when you would appear after his missions. You thought it was when he needed you the most. With the job comes the stress—the anxiety. Every spider-person knew that whether you were one month in or had years on the job. You all knew there was only one person who could protect the people and it was a cesspool of pressure all spider-people were carrying.

Including Miguel.

So you would visit him after his missions with the intention of closing that cesspool. And every time, he would greet you with that scowl on his face. It would be there from the beginning to the moment you're sliding your hand over his, innocently, gently. A touch he hasn’t felt in God knows how long. A touch he ignored he needed, but never complained about.

In the first few sessions, little was said between you two. Mostly talked about mission statuses and the mental health of the spider-people. Within time, the topics expanded to your universes and your homes. Nueva York being his. New York was yours. And later, by the end of every session, you were discovering layers of Miguel most didn’t know about.

It left you curious to the point where you looked forward to his sessions every week. You tried not to cross any boundaries—but you ended up sharing more about yourself with him than other spider-people. Usually, you were the one listening and advising.

“Cat got your tongue, has it?” It wasn’t the sound of Hobie’s voice that pulled you from your thoughts but the light strum of his guitar, the normally loud instrument’s sound was weakened without an amp. As always, he lounged on your office couch, feet kicked up on the armrest with his guitar on his lap.

“Not necessarily,” you responded, feeling embarrassed that you had spaced out when he was talking. Noticing, Hobie smirked. He loved it when things seemed awry.

“I seen it all. Little Miss Perfect in her head. Maybe I should be the doc and you’re the patient, yeah?”

“Maybe we should start having these sessions during the day. You do know it’s 1 AM.” Late sessions with Hobie felt more like you were hanging out with a friend. A waste of time but much-needed company.

“So?” Hobie shrugged, a melody was released from the strings. “Night is when the fun happens, mate.”

And Hobie was right. Your sessions with Miguel were always late in the night when most spider-people returned to their universes. Miguel would still be working, red eyes on those orange screens. You would be next to him, close to where you could feel each other’s heat. Sometimes presence was just enough. During these sessions, the clock’s minute hand would move a little too fast. An hour went by like a minute and then you would overstay. You didn’t know what to call those moments after. It was better to not give them a name.

You would leave and return with two coffees. Miguel would thank you, pulling away from his work and then you would chat till the night aged. The night never expired without hearing one of Miguel’s witty but rude comments.

And when you would give him a smile and your hand went on his bicep, it meant you were leaving.

It meant the fun was over.

Yeah, Hobie was definitely right. You were way too much in your head. Even now as the clocks strike 10 PM as you waited for Miguel in his office. Tonight wasn’t a session, but you wanted to check in to see how he was doing. That was normal, right? Checking in? Not like you did it to anyone else but it was still normal in your mind.

It was better than returning to your universe—to your empty white-walled apartment. There were memories buried within that place that you would like to forget.

First came the tremors, and then the tiny hairs on your skin erected. The pen you were holding slipped from your fingers, levitating above you. Gravity no longer existed for small objects and the air became dry but moist at the same time. It was like logic itself was confused as reality was torn open by a yellow portal and who emerged from it was, of course, Miguel fully covered in his spider suit. The sight so familiar, you had thought back to when you were first recruited by the Spider Society.

Imprisoned by the white walls of your apartment, you felt that same energy shift and that yellow portal appeared in your room like a stain. But to you, it was a hexagonal halo around Miguel who emerged from it, reaching into your universe, saying the words, “doc, we need your help.”

Life was never dull after that.

“Do I look like a blue panther to you?” Miguel approached you with his arms out. You hummed, turning your head sideways as your eyes trace over Miguel’s figure. The yellow portal closed behind him, and soon reality had returned to its natural state. You could feel Miguel getting annoyed the longer it took for you to answer. His hands went on his hips, eyes narrowing.

“Wellll….”

“Ugh, give me a break,” he brushed past you as you laughed. You followed him, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him from walking away.

“I’m kidding! Kidding!”

“ Ha ha ,” he scoffed, shrugging his arm out of your grasp. Like a red laser, his webs shot out from his wrist and he lifted himself onto his floating platform. Even after his missions, he still dived back into work. “Lyla, create a new recruit profile for Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman from Earth-65.”

“Earth-65?” You webbed yourself after him, peeking from behind his back to look at the orange-screened monitors. “I thought that was one of the universes we’re not recruiting.”

“Jess wanted her to join. She helped us capture Vulture and… I guess she did a pretty good job at it.” Miguel pulled up a hologram of the security camera in the Villains Cell Block. Jess was processing the captured Vulture to send him home in the next line up and next to her was a teenager with blond hair, the ends of it dyed soft pink. You assumed that was Gwen as Miguel zoomed in on her face.

It was rare to impress Miguel so much that he was willing to bend his own rules. Gwen Stacy from 65 was friends with the anomaly. “Cool, then I’ll schedule a session with her. Can’t wait to meet her.”

“What are you even doing here anyway?” Miguel asked, giving you a side-eye glance as he swiped the hologram away. A few more popped up about the last mission he was on and a couple more he had to do in the future. “We did our session this week.”

“Aah,” you had rehearsed your reason several times before arriving in his office and your mind still came up blank. “Just… checking in.”

You could tell he raised his eyebrow behind his mask, “Checking in?”

“Uh yeah, isn’t that normal?” You so wanted to bury yourself underground.

“Then you must have a lot of free time on your hands, doc.” Miguel shook his head, not bothering to inquire more. Not like he had any time to. His mask disintegrated and he shifted his focus to his work. You would’ve left him alone at that point because Miguel didn’t like to be disturbed once he got started until you noticed something off about his face.

“What happened to your lip?” You asked, noticing the dried blotch of blood on the corner of his bottom lip. It even looked a bit swollen.

He let out something like a sigh, a groan, or something in between before speaking quickly. “I don’t know probably happened in the fight or something—Lyla!”

“You should treat it. It could get worse, maybe even infected.” Your fingers grazed his jaw, tilting his head slightly up while tiptoeing to examine the cut. Perhaps, it was because of these sessions that you have gotten so used to touching Miguel. Before, you would’ve earned a warning scratch on your hand by now so something had changed in him as well.

“Infected?” Miguel let out a condescending laugh, his fangs making an appearance. His brown eyes deepened into red as they looked you down. It was almost as if he was mocking you. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

“Does it matter? We’re still human, aren’t we?” It was a question you received so often from your patients that you suddenly found yourself asking that exact same thing. You had yet to find an answer that made sense. Yes, you’re human. No, you’re not. Maybe it was easier to not create a binary answer and to just go with what you believed in. At least that’s what you told your patients when they sat on your office couch. They seemed to have accepted that answer.

Miguel, however, felt different. He turned to face you, his large hand encircling your wrist as he pulled your hand away from his face. He stepped forward with a slight sway, and that was when you realized the size difference between you two. He might as well have been a skyscraper, casting a shadow over your figure and shielding you from the orange glow of the screens. His head was tilted up but his eyes—damn, his eyes barreled down on you, locked on like a sniper scope. It was predatory. And you had never felt so small before in your life.

“More than,” he answered lowly, releasing your hand from his grip and then he returned to his work.

You stood there, holding your wrist which was hot to the touch as your heart boomed against your ear drums. There was a dull ache in your head and shivers ran up your spine. It could only mean one thing. Your spidey senses were alerted. It happened a couple of times when Miguel would get this way. But he never hurt you. He would never. So why was every fiber of your being telling you to run from him?

You swallowed air, anything to get yourself to calm down. Hesitating, you glanced at Miguel who had buried himself in his work, seeming to have forgotten you were in the room.

More than human. You had never thought of yourself more superior to the people you were saving. Maybe it was because you used to believe you were the only one with powers in your entire universe. It was easier to think of yourself as an unfortunate freak burdened with the duty of justice. But when you walk the halls of HQ, surrounded by like-minded spider-people in staggering numbers, you could understand Miguel’s point of view. All of you were strong, intellectually smart, and capable of doing extraordinary things that are beyond the capabilities of humans. And then you have Mayday who was born with these abilities.

You knew the dangers that could come with having a superiority complex. Even then, Miguel was someone you couldn’t exactly leave alone no matter what he thought or how often he pushed you away. It wasn’t something you could explain. Did a moth ever question why it was attracted to the light, beautiful but deadly to its soul? All you knew was that it was better than being alone wandering aimlessly in the dark.

You left and returned with a medkit in your hands. A tap on Miguel’s shoulder earned quiet mumbles from him, claiming he was going insane for being interrupted before he looked at you, brown eyes flicking between the medkit and your face.

You were as stubborn as he was and he knew you wouldn’t get off his back unless you got what you wanted. So, with a sigh, Miguel followed you off the platform to a large metal block you urged him to sit on.

You opened the medkit, pulling out the items you needed to treat his wound. Miguel stayed quiet. You could feel his eyes on your face, looking over every part of you. It was hard to ignore it considering how piercing his stare could get like he was trying to uncover the deepest parts of your soul.

“God, I feel like I’m always giving in to you,” he spitted out, hissing when you pressed a moist rag to his lip a little too hard.

“Good.”

“Just means you’re always in my way.”

“Still a good thing.”

He rolled his eyes and then they went right back on you. You were so focused on cleaning the blood off his lip that you didn’t notice how close you got to his face.

“You know, puedes sentarte .” You were startled to hear another language in your ear. More or less, you understood him, moving to sit next to him until you felt Miguel’s hand on your hip stopping you mid-motion to guide you on top of his lap. “Better.”

You let out a less than graceful squeak, cheeks flushing, “O-Okay.” You were taken aback but then you remembered the agreement. As long as there was no kissing, no sex, then this was fine, right?

You continued to tend to Miguel’s cut, ignoring your steadily rising heart rate, but you were also admiring Miguel’s face. His high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and loose curly hair were perfectly combed back. He was definitely a handsome man and he had the most perfect body. You have never seen such wide shoulders in your life.

“You’re like a mother—sort of.”

“What the fuck,” you frowned. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear while sitting on this man’s lap especially when you were internally praising him.

“There was a time when I came home from school with my lip busted after beating up this bully and my mom did what you’re doing.” It was slight but Miguel’s expression softened. He was looking at you but you could tell the warmth in his eyes was from recalling an old memory. It was the first time he brought up his family, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You were a troublesome kid, weren’t you?” You joked, placing a small bandage over his cut.

“My dad thought I was too, probably why he busted the other side of my lip after.”

You stiffened, smile immediately dropping. You weren’t foreign to domestic violence stories from your patients back in your universe. It was a sensitive topic, but knowing Miguel, he didn’t want to be coddled about it.

“Sorry,” your fingers brushed the other side of his lip. There was no cut there but you could imagine the pain he went through when his father struck him. “Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

“He was.”

“I… wanted to be one, a mother,” you admitted. “When I got married to Harry, I couldn’t wait to start a family. I wanted a little girl like Mayday, cute with the fattest cheeks. But I only had a 5% chance of conceiving, my doctor told me it was nearly impossible, and when Harry found out… Well, he divorced me. Something about my inability to continue the Osborn family line...”

You spoke without looking at him. You were still ashamed of the reason for your divorce. Harry made it feel like you were a failure of a woman. He was a misogynistic asshole that only viewed women as a means to continue his family line. You wondered what spell he cast on you to make you fall in love with him because looking back, he never seriously cared about you as a person.

It took you a year and a half to recover from the hurt. The white walls of your apartment would remind you of every argument you had with him, of when he berated you, of when he made you feel less than. You spiraled into a hole you never wanted to be in again.

Little Miss Perfect. Gosh, you were far from it.

You noticed Miguel’s hand was stroking your thigh. He looked… sad. He probably understood you the most when it came to wanting a family.

“It’s a canon event for some, you know. A spider-person must go through a breakup… But after, we always find love, right?” You shrugged, smiling softly after.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” It was rare to hear Miguel sound soft, his voice lower than you ever heard it before. His large hand never stopped treading along your thigh to your hips and then back down again. Slow and agonizing, mapping out your shape. You wondered when you got so close to him, both hands resting on his strong shoulders, chests nearly together. You were slowly gravitating towards him—to the heat of his lips. Those red eyes were normally deadly but now it was with something else, flicking between your lips and eyes. Want, desire, and everything in between.

Surely, you didn’t know what to call this moment. It was better to not give it a name. It was better to just give in because it’s been so so long since you’ve been touched. Didn’t you deserve it? Didn’t he? The hand upon your thigh felt hot, you could feel it through your spidey suit. How glorious would it be if it was upon your bare skin?

Your head was too noisy. Your morals screaming. No kissing! No sex! He’s your patient! Any excuse you thought of appeared, making you resist.

It was too much. You lowered your head before Miguel could lean in any further. His lips were so close that his hot breath was brushing your cheek in waves. You couldn’t bear it so you slightly pushed against his chest to create some space. “I… have to go.”

You managed to say, moving to stand but you felt resistance from his hand on your hip as it held you in place. You and Miguel shared a look. For once, he wanted you to stay.

But you weren’t going to be held back by that look in his eyes.

“Good night, Miguel…” With a flick of your wrist, a string of webs shot out towards the ceiling and you quickly slipped yourself out of Miguel’s hold and out of his office.

Miguel remained still for a moment, almost like he was frozen in time. But once it settled with him that you left, his hand that was on your hip closed so tight into a fist, it began to tremble. A heavy sigh passed through his lips while his other hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. He just needed a moment.

Just a moment to realize not everything he holds in his arms disappears from his life for good.

Within time, he spoke.

“Lyla.”

Lyla generated next to him, floating by his head. “Yeah, Miguel?”

“Did you finish creating the profile?”

“One, you didn’t say please. Two, I didn’t want to interrupt,” grinned Lyla.

Miguel groaned until his back met with metal and draped an arm over his eyes. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes?”

“When are you ever?” Lyla was expecting Miguel’s usual quips to her antics, but when she received nothing but silence from him, she frowned and gave in to his request. “Fiiiine, profile was done ages ago but I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Next Chapter

#miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x you #marvel #sony #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man: into the spider verse #fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #the agreement

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bakubunny · 4 months

Text

give and take

a/n: retired (disabled) shota x disabled reader hurt/comfort fluff. pls read all the tags; this is very self indulgent bc that’s how i feel like writing today. also i did a quick grammar check but this is generally unedited.

tw: neurological disorders, tics, muscle spasms, speech problems, dissociation, functional seizures, established relationships, l-bomb, reader is called baby, babygirl, daddy as nickname/title (used once)

You stood in the kitchen, chefs knife in hand as you cut the last of the vegetables out before you. Shota rinsed rice at the sink on your right. You froze briefly before a muscle spasm shot through your hand, then a small tic. It was hardly any movement, but he caught it in the corner of his eye. Five years into retirement, you’d swear Shota was still sharp as ever.

“You okay?” he asked.

The sound of water stopped.

There was a slight hesitation in your voice. “Yeah. I’m good.”

With a few measured slices, the job was done. Your hand seized again. The large knife clattered onto the counter.

“Shit, sorry,” you said. More for yourself than him, perhaps.

Another small vocal tic.

Shota glanced your direction. “Let me take care of the rest.”

“Really, I’m-I’m fine, Sho,” you replied, transferring the cut onion onto a plate.

The subtle shift in his face told you he held his tongue this time when he’d rather not. Sure, you had a bad habit of pushing yourself too hard, but Shota had no room to talk on that. He knew - especially now - that life didn’t stop just because you did.

You shut your eyes; one pulled back and rolled for a second. Your body grew tired and heavy. “Just been a long-”

One moment, you were standing, the next, your legs gave out beneath you. There was a clang when the metal bowl of the rice cooker hit the floor. Rice and water splattered nearby as Shota caught you, body limp in his arms.

“Baby?”

An eyebrow twitched in response. Your head lolled forward painfully. Shota pulled you back into his shoulder and carefully lowered you to the floor, your head in his lap. A muscle spasm ripped down your spine as your back arched, muscles so tight that your extremities shook and your vision blurred once it passed once your eyes opened. Head foggy and empty, you fought your body to respond. A small groan left your throat.

“I’m right here. I love you,” Shota said, running his fingers through your hair.

Another look of fear crossed your face with a whine. You wanted to apologize and crawl into his arms, but your body stayed still. And your husband knew you too well.

“Don’t be sorry.”

You laid with him as spasms came and went, along with your awareness of the things around you. When you came to a little, your fingertips stretched out seeking his hand, so he reached for yours.

“Hey, babygirl. You with me?” he said.

“Mhm.” You still couldn’t move much. But this was something.

“Am I okay to carry you?” Shota asked.

“I… think so,” you said.

With relative quickness and the ease of a practiced hero, he gathered you up in his arms and carried you to bed.

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆

You laid in bed with Shota, your head on his shoulder, finished dinner plates on the tray he’d set at the end of the bed, and sighed.

“Sometimes I really hate all of this,” you said. “I hate that you have to do so much for me. You’ve got enough to handle.”

“You’re the love of my life. Why would I leave you to suffer?” he asked.

When you stayed quiet, he continued. “It’s give and take. You do just as much for me.”

“I know…” you replied. “Sho?”

“Mm?”

“If… if I take care of the dishes, will you take a bath with me?” You played with the hem of his shirt.

Shota smiled softly. “You want daddy to wash your hair, baby?”

A grin pushed at your cheeks. “Maybe, yeah.”

“You don’t need to do anything to have that,” he replied. “I have the energy tonight. Let me take care of you.”

You hugged him tighter. “Thank you.”'

if you’d like to be added to my tag list, let me know. ♡

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @darkstarlight82 @bookcluberror @neon-gothicc @zazter-den @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @mhadabiandhawks4eva @yazminetrahan @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @ayeohoh-blog @dinomeow @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @nanamisbigassschlong @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @nuttyunknowndetective @katsuslover @yooxverse @jjamiee21

#i don’t miss days like this #and i’m glad they’re rare now #but here you go #hope u like it #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #aizawa x reader #f!reader #x reader #disabled reader #disabled characters #bakubunny

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roronoagem · 4 months

Note

Person who asked for Law with reader who was forced to eat a devil fruit. Can I go by 🐻‍❄️ anon?

Ahhhh! You did a great job!!! Thank you so so much!

I think it'd be funny to see a continuation. Maybe Bepo stays a little bit closer to reader just in case she falls over again and Law gets jealous that he can't be the one to dive in and save her?

🐻‍❄️

characters: trafalgar d. water law

content warning: gn!reader, jealous!law, bepo is super cute (he’s my baby fr) & poor attempt at fluff i think idk.

a/n: omg thank you so much !! of course you can be 🐻‍❄️ anon — basically bepo anon huh, i’m gonna add you to my list hehe. this one is short fr, i could only think of a tiny convo between them. i apologise if this is not what you expected >_< .

after the accident, bepo decided to stay super close to you.

“you don’t have to act like a baby-sitter, bepo,” you would try to ease his tension. it doesn’t work of course.

“i have to be ready to help you!”

bepo’s closeness caught the attention of a certain someone who unconsciously grew jealous of this whole situation.

“bepo i’m okay, i promise. i’m just sitting here watching the waves,” he’s hugging you. no literally he’s holding you to make sure you won’t slip into the water.

law noticed how whenever you were walking around on the deck doing whatever task, the polar bear acted like your shadow.

he wasn’t really jealous of him being too close to you, he was jealous of the fact that 1. he would be the first to see if something happens and 2. he could actually jump in to save you.

this is something law could never do because of his devil fruit.

you noticed the way he acted a bit different after that, not really thinking his change in behaviour was a consequence of bepo being there for you at all times — well, not in that sense.

“law!” you walked right into his office, making your presence known even before he could see your figure. he hummed, acknowledging your presence, eyes focusing on the pages of the book he was reading.

“are you sad?” you sat right next to him, pouting. “hm?” law glanced at you, curious as to why you were asking something like that. “it looks like you’re always pouting when you see me on the deck. did something happen?”

was he that obvious?

“no, i’m okay,” he shrugged it off and went back to his book. “are you jealous?” you smirked, your tone showing amusement now. “what— no. why would i be?” he rolled his eyes.

“because bepo’s not afraid to hug me in public,” you suggested, trying to find a way to let him spit the truth out. “i hug you,” he corrected, not even glancing at you this time. you huffed and then looked down for a moment, trying to think of something else.

“he can do something i can’t, though,” his voice was low but you heard it clear as a day. “huh?” you raised your brows, confused. “what if you fall once again? he can jump in,” he added after a long moment of silence.

you realised what he meant and swiftly moved closer, searching for his gaze. “i don’t care about that, because you protect me in many other ways and that’s all that matters,” you took his hand, tracing his tattoos with your thumb slowly. as law finally met your eyes, you offered him a sweet smile. “i guess… you’re right,” he finally, but slowly, gave in. it wasn’t rational, feeling jealous of something like that.

“so… you were, in fact, jealous,” you then laughed at him, easing the tension between you two. law rolled his eyes, cheeks turning slightly pink now. “shut up,” he tried to sound offended but seeing you laughing changed his mood, as he secretly enjoyed watching you spread your happiness like that.

#꒰ 🖋️ ꒱ writing #꒰ 🌐 ꒱ one piece #꒰ 💭 ꒱ trafalgar d. water law #🐻‍❄️.anon #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #op law x reader #trafalgar law drabble #trafalgar law blurb #trafalgar law imagine #one piece x reader #op x reader #trafalgar one piece #op trafalgar law #one piece

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simpingland · 1 year

Text

Who is Higgins?// Jamie Tartt x neutral!reader.

Being new at Richmond is always complicated no matter how many times you have been there. One lonely Jamie Tartts grows font of Rebecca's new assistant.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You'd rarely been to team parties, but if your boss insists you go, when she's six feet tall, in heels and a smile she rarely gave you, you have to accept. The team had won after a tough period of defeats, and although it may sound childish, you had been through an even worse period. No, you hadn't lost a game, but you'd spent the same hours as the players around the stadium, chasing Rebecca wherever she went. Being new to the building had been harder than anyone could have expected, with Rebecca getting frustrated with the team and equally frustrated with you. She barely left you time to socialise, although at least Keeley had been there every day to give you a smile. You could also add Ted to that short list, of course, who always stopped by to ask you about your day, never mind that you always responded with the boring routine of the day. Coach and Nate gave you little more than a pleasant greeting, and the players...well, to each his own. When you got to work, you had no idea why the arrival of a former player had put all the teammates in such a disgruntled mood. Even good old Dani Rojas didn't agree with the arrival of this Jamie Tartt. At the first meeting with him, you understood everything.

"And who the fuck are you supposed to be now?" he blurted out the first time he saw you enter Ted's office.

"I could ask you the same question." Your sentence was typical of a confident person, too bad that wasn't the case. You could hear the nervousness and surprise in your voice.

"Sure... playing dumb..." Jamie was smiling, laughing at you. He stood there waiting for you to blush, biting his lip flirtatiously and putting his hands on his hips, almost posing. But you did nothing but stare at him in confusion. He was cute, yes, but you needed Ted, not him. "You genuinely don't know who I am...wow."

He went from that pose to that of a normal person and just as confused as you. You were amused then and couldn't hide a smile as you shrugged.

"I'm Rebecca's secretary, if that answers your question. I'm...new."

"Didn't Rebecca already have a secretary?"

"...no. Higgins is the communications director, not secretary."

"Who's Higgins?"

This made you laugh, and although Jamie had been totally serious, he decided to take that as an accomplishment and stood smiling as he waited for you to stop laughing.

"I'm Y/N," you held out your hand.

"Jamie Tartt," he accepted it.

"Oh... you look so familiar..."

"Well, I played for Chelsea until recently."

"Nah, I'm not much of a football fan. Must be something else..."

"Well, I'm quite popular." He put on that star pose again.

"I don't doubt it. It's just that lately I've been a bit... scattered. This job is more stressful than it seems. And I'm new in town, so...I'm going to shut up now, I'm being a pain, aren't I? Yes, I am. I'm sorry."

"Well, it's okay to overshare once in a while. If it's any consolation, I didn't get the best welcome either..." his tone was tender. All that cool guy stuff was behind him. He had hidden his hands in his pockets.

"Gee, I'm sorry. I guess things always get better...at least I'm making some serious dough! God, I'm going to enjoy my retirement so much..."

You watched as Jamie smiled and was about to say something else when Ted walked in with his trademark accent and cheerfulness. You immediately resolved your doubt and said goodbye to both of them, giving Jamie a shy smile.

"Higgins is a cartoon...that's the description I'd give him. He looks like a cartoon." And you walked away.

From that day on, when you passed him, you only had time to say good morning, good afternoon or good evening. You rarely had more than a three-minute walk together, and if you hadn't been so busy synchronising schedules and events for Rebecca, you would have noticed that Jamie was always late at his trainings to walk with you wherever you went.

During the match in which the boys had emerged victorious, two goals (out of three) had been scored by Jamie Tartt, and you noticed at once that in none of them had he been as congratulated by his teammates as Sam had been on his one goal. It was true that Sam was a spectacular boy, but the detachment of the teammates from Jamie was all too palpable. When the game was over, you congratulated Ted, taking advantage of the fact that he had stayed behind, and the smile you received from him was like a fatherly hug, happy to be seen socialising for the first time.

It was Keeley who solved the clothing question, and thanks to her, you were able to avoid the ridicule of wearing office clothes. So a quick visit to your tiny flat and you were ready to have some fun. By the time you got to the club, half the guys were already drunk out of their minds. The first drink was passed to you by Dani Rojas, and you barely spoke to Rebecca because she was too busy dancing with a friend of hers and Keeley. As usual, everyone fell back into their groups, with Ted and the coaches (and Higgins), Rebecca with her girls, and the players. You had no confidence in any of them, though they were too close to you as they danced drunkenly, and coordination was starting to fail them. It didn't take you long to pour your own drink over someone you hadn't seen.

"Sorry!" You turned around and started to swipe your hand without even looking at who it was.

"Relax, it's these wankers who aren't careful." It was Jamie, who had just arrived. And you'd stained his whole shirt with your San Francisco. "I'll forgive you if you buy me a drink."

Before the drink, you went down to the toilets, and wetting one of the towels in that posh place, you tried to get the stain out of the shirt. You watched in the mirror as Jamie enjoyed his look, a shirtless blazer.

"I've always looked good in this outfit," he declared.

"For some reason, it suits you to have worn that outfit to a funeral..."

"And all the little old ladies would faint, and with a little kiss, I'd bring them back to life." He winked at himself.

"I know where I know you from!" He stood expectantly, glad that he could finally pose as a hero. "You were on that couples show! Oh, my God! My grandma had the biggest crush on you!"

Again he turned red, and dropped the pose. He nodded his head as he let you laugh at him.

"I'm not proud of it..."

"Well, you can do a lot of other bad things, Jamie." He smiled warmly at you, still blushing. "You were amazing today. You were a star."

"Thanks, even though I don't feel like one." He leaned against the faucet, leaning closer to you as you finished drying his shirt.

"I've already noticed that the boys... they're still a little stubborn. These things take time."

"I don't really have anything to make up for either, I was never a good team player. And I think the idolatry they had for me has completely disappeared. And now it's totally the other way round. They hate me now."

"Hate is not the word. It's important for you to know that. People hate bad people, and being a bad team player doesn't make you a bad person. Besides... you made them win. That's not so easily forgotten."

"They like you... The boys. They like you. And I like you too."

"Well, I'm glad, and if I'm being honest, I like you the best out of all of them."

"Really? Better than Dani?"

"Yes. I swear."

"Why?"

"Well, you don't overshare your life with just any stranger. I guess you're still special beyond the field."

He was silent for a second. It was obvious then how sad he always felt. As if he had to hold back that insecurity because he had no one to leave it with.

"Thank you for saying that."

"I mean it."

"I know. You're special too."

"Thank you. It's been too long since I've felt like this. I can have my friends and family a phone call away, but over time, they become things that only exist on the phone, nothing more."

"I live here. If you need to talk, just knock on my door."

"So invite me over."

"Whenever you want."

To you he meant it as a joke, but not to Jamie. He had rarely let people he knew (and liked) stay at his house for more than a day. The only exception had been Keeley. And he had never had the urge to talk that much with anyone else. But in that bathroom of pink lights, with your hair tousled and smelling of vanilla and cocktails, your company was all Jamie wanted.

When the t-shirt dried, you were encouraged to go upstairs again. You tried to pay for the drinks, but Jamie spoke to Isaac, to whom he explained that he had spilt your drink on him. And the captain apologetically invited you both to the next round.

"Propose a toast!" You shouted in Jamie's ear, the music was too loud. "To Sam and the team! That's a nice gesture!"

Jamie looked surprised at the idea but nodded and got the attention of the whole team, the coaches, and even your boss.

"Oi! A toast! For Obisanya, you're a fucking champion! WE'RE RICHMOND TILL WE DIE!" once he started singing, everyone sang along with him. The euphoria made them sing the song assigned to Jamie and sooner than expected, the footballer was pushed into the group. You smiled at him from afar, lonely but happy to see him join the group. Jamie was quick to gently take your hand to include you in the circle.

Everyone was dancing, and the first drink began to rise gently, just enough so that you could let yourself dance. And although you weren't particularly good at it, you could tell you were enjoying it, and the usual glow of enjoyment began to decorate your cheeks. Jamie didn't miss that glow for a second. He had gone only because Ted had mentioned that you were going to the party, and he was glad (for the first time in his life) that he had listened to the American.

The night went on like that, as did your walks in the stadium, with meaningless but fast and funny conversations, Jamie teaching you his "captivating" dance steps while laughing at your "captivating" steps. Neither of you ever got drunk because the drinks were slowly running out. You were too entertained by each other. He ran his hand around your waist, and every time he spoke to you, he put his lips to your ear as you put your lips to his ear. So most conversations were held with our faces too close together, but his breath smelled of cocacola and some mint. Jamie's eyes were lighter than you'd think, and he had a laugh that was easier to get out than the journalist would think.

Nothing happened that night, he just kissed you on the cheek, but you, being the most awkward person in the world, were clumsy enough to kiss him too close to the mouth. And if that wasn't enough, the reaction was similar to that of a child seeing a spider, with a compressed scream and jumping backwards. Jamie just laughed at you.

The following Monday, he came back to Rebecca's office with you. He was already showered from training and seemed to be in a hurry. When you got to one of the corridors with stairs, which was deserted at that hour, Jamie stopped you and put his hand on your arm.

"I know who Higgins is!"

"Jamie, you scared me." You started to laugh, between his look of delight at having understood who Higgins was and at the fullness of having described him so well. "He's a fantastic man. He told me the other day about his wife, they're so cute, they've been together for like twenty years--"

Jamie's hands moved to stroke your hair, and you let him kiss you. Slowly but intensely, you leaned against the wall as you kissed him back. You'd been looking forward to it all weekend, and you could tell he had too. When you pulled apart, Jamie looked a little embarrassed.

"Sorry...it's rude to interrupt. It's just that the other day I couldn't sleep, the kiss you gave me was right under my left nostril...or right, whatever. And it smelled like lip balm. And it smelled fucking great. And I haven't stopped thinking about you all weekend."

"I spent all weekend thinking about how your face stung a little, but it was still strangely soft..."

"Thank you..." he smiled confidently and kissed you again. You weren't being very professional, but after all that stress, you deserved some fun at work. Jamie tasted like mint and smelled like cookies and leather. He broke the kiss for a second. "Oh, no..."

"What's wrong?"

He smirked again, and you were reassured by that mischievous look he wore whenever he knew he was going to score a goal. "Your grandma's going to be jealous..."

#jamie tartt reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x neutral!reader #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #phil dunster #jamie tartt fluff

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tommysversion · 1 year

Text

Pre Game ( DBF / BFD Joel Miller x Reader )

Summary: Joel is your dad’s best friend, and your friend’s dad to boot. Wanting him is a bad idea, but it’s not like he feels the same… right?

CWs: age gap / references to cheating / semi protected sex / threats of spanking / language / dirty talk

Tag List: @joelsgirl @pr0ximamidnight @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab @schizoel @bearsbeetsbeskar @loquaciousferret @pedritosdarling @chaotic-mystery

(I’m sure I’ve missed someone I’m sorry 😂)

Notes: finally, that DBF fic.

Buy Me A Coffee?

You’re really starting to feel bad about how much you’re paying attention to him. Maybe it wouldn’t be so guilt inducing if it was a new thing, something you could brush off as fleeting interest, but the fact of the matter is you’ve had your eye on him for literally the better part of two years now.

You’ve always noticed him; how can you not? He’s your dad’s best friend. They work together, then every other week he’s at your house to watch the game. Before, you were aware of him.

But ever since you moved back home after your college relationship went bust? You can’t take your eyes off him. What’s worse is you’re relatively close friends with his own daughter, Sarah.

You’re a couple years older than her, but close enough in age that you get along well. Well enough that you’d hang out together, text each other over the years, trust each other with secrets and girls nights and the bullshit that comes with being a young woman in this day and age. Wanting her dad just feels like a betrayal, but you can’t help it.

Besides, it’s not like he wants you back. Right?

Your dad won’t be home for several hours yet; he got called out to an urgent maintenance job, something about a blown circuit board causing a whole block to have spotty power. Considering there’s some important game on today, it’s not ideal.

You guess he must be too busy to have had time to message Joel to let him know, or more likely, forgot. Not that it matters - there have been a couple times when he’s shown up early.

It’s almost embarrassing that you know the sound of Joel’s truck as it pulls up outside the house. Even more embarrassing the way your heart starts racing as you get up off the couch to let him in. You open the door just as he goes to knock on it, leaving him standing there with his hand half raised, lazy half smile on his face.

“Chief not in?” His nickname for your dad has always amused you, the sarcastic banter born from the year your dad was his boss. It was weird for them to go from equals, two blue collar single dads, to your dad bossing him round.

That worksite didn’t last too long, and they were back to their regular buddy shenanigans before long.

“Nah, some emergency power restoration. He should be back before the game starts.”

You step to the side to let him in; no point leaving him outside, or him driving across town to get home only to come back.

Joel smirks.

“Should’ve done what I did.” He pulls his phone from the pocket of his jeans, where the do not disturb sign is showing on his lock screen.

“He works too hard.” You agree, heading back through the living room, trusting Joel to close the front door behind him.

You’ve been alone with him before, just a few times, but not since you moved back home. He looks a little different. Older. He’s got silver streaks mingled in with dark curls, a little softer round the middle. But it doesn’t take away from his looks. If anything, it enhances them.

“Always has. Now what about you, huh? Last I heard you were finishing your fancy degree, had shit all planned out.”

You shrug. Your dad had never gone to college; had busted his ass your entire life so that you could. You’d enjoyed your studies, had had some good friendships and relationships there.

Then your college boyfriend with his stupid law degree had cheated on you with the secretary his new firm had hired. You hadn’t been remotely interested in trying to ‘fix things’, instead throwing your mostly unpacked shit into boxes and hauling ass back home.

You had your degrees, you could find work at home. Never mind your wounded pride and inability to trust men your age ever again.

“Sometimes stuff doesn’t go according to plan.” You say finally. “I’m getting a drink. Want anything?”

Joel doesn’t answer you, just follows you into the kitchen. You’re barely aware he’s there until you feel the heat of his body behind yours as he leans over you into the open refrigerator, snags a beer while you’re still deciding.

A jolt of electricity runs through your body at the slight contact, immediately followed by guilt. Never mind that he’s your dad’s best friend, he’s your own friend’s dad.

How could you ever face Sarah if you acted on your want for him?

You grab a premixed vodka drink, pop the cap off and toss it into the bowl on the bench, taking a sip.

The drinks aren’t your choice; your dad buys them on occasion, because as he likes to remind you, there’s no such thing as a ‘girly drink’. It’s funny, but being raised that way gave you the confidence not to give a shit about ordering a beer in a bar, the same way you’ll never be apologetic about drinking a pastel pink vodka premix that tastes like guava and sugar.

Turning, you find Joel leaning against the other bench. Watching you.

“Make yourself at home.”

It comes out far more sarcastic than you intended; immediately, you feel bad. It’s not his fault you’re trying to cope with a raging crush on him. Not his fault that he’s stupidly handsome even in jeans and a button down shirt.

Honestly you doubt he even knows how attractive he is. Somehow that makes it worse.

“Got a mouth on you today, don’t you?” Joel says almost breezily, clearly unbothered by your attitude. “You always this bratty, or is that something you learned at college?”

You can feel your cheeks heating at the implication.

“No college boy could teach me that.”

The words are out before you can stop them. Your slight blush becomes full fledged heat when you realise what you’ve said, how easily you flirt with him.

“Guess not.” Joel takes a long sip of his beer, watches you for a second, as though trying to assess something in his head.

“Guarantee no boy is gonna give you what you deserve, anyway.”

Even though you’ve just taken a drink, your mouth becomes impossibly dry.

“What I deserve?” You put the bottle down before you drop the damn thing.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change as he drains his beer, sets the empty bottle on the bench behind him.

“See, if you were mine, I’d put you over my knee and slap your ass raw for being such a brat.” He says it so damn casually, like he’s talking about the weather.

You open your mouth to speak, then close it again. Then open it.

“What’s stopping you?”

Now, his expression does change. A smirk crossing his features. You half expect him to say something about his age, about your dad being his buddy, or about you being his daughter’s friend.

It’s none of the above.

“You’d enjoy it too much.” He crosses the small space between you, thumb tracing the outline of your mouth. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you looking.”

Your lips part, sucking the tip of his thumb into your mouth, eyes wide and staring into his own dark gaze. Something flickers there, maybe what remains of his willpower being snuffed out.

He lets you suck on his thumb for a moment before he pulls it out of your mouth, fingers closing on your chin and forcing you to look at him.

Your tongue darts out and licks your lower lip, unable to take your eyes off him, off the blatant lust in his gaze. You’re almost afraid that if you look away, it’ll break the spell, that he’ll come to his senses, or that you will.

You don’t want to.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you?” He sounds so amused, but not in an unkind way.

“I bet the thought of me bending you over and spanking you has you soaked.”

For a moment, you consider denying it. The small part of you that’s still sensible says you should. But you can’t. You just can’t.

“Why don’t you find out?” You suggest, wishing you were wearing something a bit more attractive than shorts and a shirt. At least your underwear matches.

For a moment you think he might refuse; are afraid he will refuse. That fear passes the moment his free hand slides down into your shorts, thumb brushing against your clit almost lazily.

You have to fight not to lean into his touch. Fight and fail miserably as that big, rough hand cups you, fingers caressing across sensitive skin.

“Knew it.”

Joel has no right to be this damn smug, and yet he is anyway, beyond amused at how wet you are, just from his words.

You half glare at him, mostly because you’re irritated by how right he is, but also because it frustrates you just how much you need him.

“Don’t start being a brat again…” he warns you. “Keep being good for me and I’ll reward you…”

You can’t help but melt just a little at those words, wondering what he could possibly mean. Well. You have a few ideas, but still, you think his ideas are probably going to be better.

“How?”

He just stares at you, makes eye contact as he slides two thick fingers inside you, silently answering your question and challenge.

Your knees almost buckle, but you force yourself to keep standing, reaching behind you to hold onto the bench top to steady yourself.

You’ve spent a considerable amount of time thinking about this; about his fingers inside you. About more than just his fingers. But hell if this isn’t a good start. If this is all you get, you’ll be satisfied. Needy and wishing for more, yes, but you wouldn’t push it.

Luckily for you, he’s just as needy, pushing those fingers deep into you, curling them, watching the way your eyes drop closed. Like he hasn’t thought about this a great deal, when in reality it’s all he thinks about.

“See? Told you if you were good for me, it’d pay off…”

You smirk at him, wanting to be a smartass and tell him he never said that, but you need him too much to risk it. He’s trained you well, without even trying.

“If I’m even better, will you give me more?”

Your eyes drop to the visible bulge in his jeans, leaving absolutely no room to question what you mean. The sound he makes is somewhere between a growl and a groan, understanding what you want and more than willing to give it to you.

“‘M not gonna fuck you in the kitchen, baby.”

The amount of restraint it takes for him to say that is clear in his expression. Honestly, he’d love nothing more than to yank those tiny shorts down, hoist you up onto the bench and fuck you senseless, but the kitchen isn’t the right place.

He has enough restraint to want to do this properly, enough respect for you to be hesitant, even though it’s difficult.

Quite frankly you wouldn’t have cared if he’d bent you over the closest surface, but it’s the little want to be a gentleman that gets you. Even if he does still have his fingers buried knuckle deep inside you.

“What about if I ask nicely?” You look at him through half closed eyes, expression innocent.

“Still not gonna happen in the kitchen.”

You smirk; that’s fair enough. Luckily there are far more available rooms you can utilise, and you both know it. Still, it’s with a definite sense of reluctance that he removes his fingers from you, brings them to his mouth and sucks them clean, leaving you once again weak in the knees.

“Joel…”

He loves the way his name sounds in your mouth, knows it’ll sound even better when you’re screaming it.

“Cmon, baby, gonna show me somewhere we can go that’s a bit more private?”

You try not to look too eager as you grab his hand, drag him out of the kitchen down the hallway to the guest room that’s now yours. Your old room upstairs was boxed up years ago, and your dad has since turned it into a gaming room for his war game miniatures and old books.

Easier for you to take the guest room, make it your own space. That and it would have felt weird, taking Joel into your childhood room.

Kicking the door shut behind you, you turn, expecting… you’re not sure what, but Joel pushes you up against the door almost right away, leaning down to you, his body hot against yours.

You have plenty of time before you have to worry about being interrupted, but still, there’s a sense of urgency in the way you pull him down to you, crush your mouth to his.

In the moment you don’t care that it’s wrong, that he’s so much older than you. All that matters is him, and getting him as close to you as possible, because god knows you’ve waited long enough for this.

He moves his arms away from you just long enough to yank your shorts down, pull your shirt over your head, toss them both aside carelessly. You let him before you push him back, until the back of his legs hit your bed.

Joel lets you, lets you push him back and straddle his lap, leaning down to kiss him as you shed your lace bra, leaving you bare to his gaze as you grind yourself against the significant bulge in his jeans.

“Fuck, baby, you gonna take charge all the time?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t care, not in the damn slightest, as your hands find his belt, work the zip of his jeans down.

You don’t answer him, just kiss him again, hard and desperate as your hand wraps around his cock, frees him from his pants and strokes him eagerly.

The sound he makes is goddamn sinful as you drag your soaked core along his length, coating him with your wetness. You want to take your time, but you know your dad could be back any minute, and you’re too needy and desperate to take your time.

Luckily, he seems to feel the same way.

“You gonna ride this cock, baby? Gonna take it like a good girl?”

That’s absolutely your intention; you lift yourself up, position yourself over the tip of him, then slide down onto his length, every inch of him sinking into you slowly.

His hands settle on your hips, guiding you down, keeping you there for a moment, fingers tightening on your waist.

“Fuck, you feel so good…” he breathes it out slowly, watches you toss your hair over your shoulder, smirk down at him as you start to move, drawing another delicious groan from his lips.

You don’t answer, focus entirely on riding him, lifting yourself up and dropping back down, one hand rubbing at your clit as you move.

“Such a pretty girl, so fuckin’ good for me…”

You whimper, and maybe that’s what finally snaps him, because his hands tighten on your waist and he starts to move, no longer letting you do all the work, hips snapping up against yours, hard and fast, precisely how you’ve always imagined he would fuck you.

“Dirty little thing aren’t you? All this time you’ve been wanting me…” he almost growls it, breath hitched as he ruts up into you, pupils blown wide with lust as he watches you.

“Joel…”

You’re so close you can feel it, every nerve in your body alight as you tighten around him.

“Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock, I know you want to. Can feel this tight little pussy, so needy for me…”

It’s his filthy words, the feeling of him inside you, your hand on your clit, the combination of all of it, that sends you over, has you shaking on top of him, held up by his big strong hands as you find your release.

He can see the scar on your arm where your implant was put in, sees you looking and the way you bite your lip, and that’s enough for him, bucking up into you until he can’t hold out any longer, cursing and moaning as he fills you, you grinding down against him the entire damn time.

“Fuck…” he groans it as you lean down to kiss his cheek.

“Worth the wait.” You tease as you climb off of him with shaking legs, pick up your clothes and start re dressing yourself.

“Absolutely.” He zips up his jeans, sits up lazily, watches you pull those ridiculously tiny shorts back on.

You grin, feeling his eyes on you.

“Come on. Let’s go have another drink and pretend to be completely innocent before my dad gets back.”

Joel groans. You’re going to be the absolute death of him.

#my writing #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #dbf!joel miller #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal characters

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