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seattlesellie · 8 months

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i have a request!! i had a thought yesterday and imagine ellie coming home to you complaining about your hurting tits and at first she’s like kind of concerned yk so she gently asks you to let her see but then she gets turned on and starts to play with them and stuff djdksksk i need her so bad

painkiller.

warnings: mentions of reader having pms, afab reader, smut (minors… please don’t), tit play obviously, slight spit play as well, pathetic caring dom ellie, masturbation (e)

an: i really am a sucker for ellie taking care of u when ur feeling unwell :( just makes me feel fjjsjdjs and i can’t even imagine how comforting she it. btw i had farm ellie in mind (don’t i always) 💗 i’m kinda on the fence with this one but i’m writing dbf abby n needed a break<3

although the sun has sunk, and the dark blue skies are veiled by a shroud of dark clouds, the heavy and sultry august heat managed to creep itself through your window, nevertheless. the white wine in your glass — the 'chenin blanc' to be exact, has lost all of it’s docile sweetness all of a sudden, succumbing to an unpalatable acrimony. even the book that’s half opened, resting on your knees; seems devoid of interest, and you’re left there, sat on the couch, accompanied by another painful groan escaping from your lips, and a dull ache settling within your body.

it just is one of those days.

you bring your trembling hand lower, finding solace against your chest. with a slight opening of your quivering bottom lip, you whine through clenched teeth. you gulp, gingerly placing the wine glass upon the table, and rest your eyes shut. “hurts…” you whimper into the void, cupping your right breast and attempting to soothe and massage it. your touch, albeit is nothing but soft, manages to make it ache even more. you squeeze your eyes in despair, and a fat tear flows down your cheek. you wipe it away, followed by a hushed but tormented hum.

five minutes manage to pass by, and just as you teeter on the precipice of sleep, an insistent stab of pain jolts you awake. the pain slyly creeps around, wends its insidious path, and ‘rests’ down on your lower back, your hips, and then finds home on your breasts again. a pain killer could help, perhaps, but you’ve already taken two, and mixing it with wine, albeit only half a glass, would be quite a bad idea.

“this… SUCKS!” — you groan, and maybe god could hear you and fix it, if only you were loud enough.

then, your ears twitch at the subtle creak emanating from the keyhole. after that, the wooden door opens. you were thinking about god hearing you, and somehow ellie managed to appear. you’d entertain her with that amusing little thought, but all you can mutter after her relieved “hey, babe” — is a rather pathetic hiccup. ellie walks intently towards you, eyebrows knitted tightly, the staccato rhythm of her rough boots echoing upon the wooden floor, and she walks almost as if she found a wounded fawn in the middle of a dirt road.

your eyes remain firmly sealed, your limbs limp and listless at your sides, and even though you can’t see, you can tell she’s crouched down in front of you. ellie inhales deeply, and places both of her rough hands on your thighs. “hey… whats wrong?” she asks, her voice husky and thick with concern. god — does hearing that caring tone make you want to sob even harder. it tugs at your heartstrings, and you don’t respond. “talk to me… please… uh, let me get you some water?”, and with another hiccup leaving your lips, ellie nods to herself and almost walks away to the kitchen. helplessly, attempting to make her stay, you grab her wrist and sniffle away. “hurts…” you cry, and your eyes flutter open, meeting her worried gaze. her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes are travelling from your own orbs to your cheek, her hand lifting up to wipe a measly tear away.

you love her so much you think you might scream.

ellie caresses down your thigh now, then down your knee, and then travels further down to your ankle. she plants a tender kiss there, and then on your wrist, waiting for you to reply. “baby, answer me… i… hate seeing you like this” she pleads.

as if on cue, the sharp pain strikes again, like a gentle lightening bolt, shooting through the bottom of your left breast. “think i’m… about to get my period, i dunno… everything hurts” you admit, sniffling. “i’m dramatic, sorry…” you whisper softly, and ellie sighs, shaking her head. “not dramatic, babe… i mean, you know how i get… you cry, and i break stuff… if we really think about it, i'm the dramatic one” she chuckles, tilting her head to the side. she has some light bags underneath her forest green eyes. she must have had a long, exhausting day at work — and here you are sobbing because your boobs hurt. you pout slightly and manage to let out of a small, exhausted giggle. “you don’t break stuff…”, ellie arches a brow and smirks. “no? what about that vase in the bedroom?”

she's… half right. she didn’t break it on purpose, she was kicking the drawer because she felt like “there’s a demon", on her “cursed fuckin’ useless lesbian uterus” — so the wooden furniture shook, leading to the vase's demise, and it shattered into countless tiny pieces. then, she bought a new vase that didn’t fit the room at all, but you kept it nevertheless. 'ellie’s apology for being an asshole vase' is what she called it, and how could you dispose of such a thing?

it’s corny, really, but you somehow managed to forget you were even crying in the first place. “t’was an ugly vase”, you murmur. ellie plants another small kiss on your thigh and you nearly purr. “you liked that vase, liar”, she teases.

you sit in cozy cocoon of silence, ellie's anecdotes and workplace stories become a soothing distraction. she's careful, almost calculated, as she takes note of every smile that graces your face instead of a wince.

it’s the most natural thing in the world.

you laugh and giggle, until you don’t. another bolt of striking pain hits your breast. you mewl, and ellie immediately ceases her sentence. “stomach?” she asks, her hand descending to rest on your lower abdomen. her palms are big and warm, and if it did hurt, you’re more than convinced her touch will make it go away. “um… no…”, and although her touch there is comforting, it’s not where the real ache lies. “where?” ellie asks, now lifting herself up and sitting right beside you. she moves the half opened book to the side, scoffing. “that book sucks, by the way… ass story”

maybe it wasn’t just you.

she caresses down your shoulder, squeezing in affection. “where does it hurt, babe? your back?” she inquires and you hiss again, flinching in pain. “no uh…” you whisper, and then lower your chin, as if you’re attempting to signal ellie to where the pain really stays. she lowers her gaze, blinking thrice before looking up at you. your eyes are glassy and it makes her heart melt and ache. such a pretty crier, and for what? she wonders. “uh… my… y’know… my boobs… they jus’ feel heavy” you whine, your voice a soft, pitiable whisper. ellie takes her bottom lip between her teeth. “poor thing, huh?” she rasps. “owh… hate them…” you mutter, holding a breast between your fingers.

ellie chuckles, trying to seem undistracted by the way your hand is cupping your breast in despair. her poor girl… and her poor tits… — but she still is, worried about you. and she really does care, so she pushes that negligible thought to the side. “well, i like them”, she rasps quietly and cocks her head. “uh, y'know, a lot” she remarks, and she really isn’t trying to turn you on, just distract you again.

you wrestle with a mischievous smile, damp and sticky eyelashes closing in despair. the juxtaposition is absolutely unheard of — the small river flowing down your cheek, and the smiles that keep involuntary appearing. “just like? you don’t love them?” you playfully prod, and then hiccup when you feel the ache smite again. ellie chuckles and wipes another tear with her calloused palm and not with her finger, and then let’s out of a throaty chuckle. “no i… i love your tits very mu—“ her words are cut short, as she notices you biting your lip, attempting to stifle your laughter. she shoves you playfully and rolls her eyes. “fuck you babe… if you see me blushing, ignore that shit, i swear to god, i’m posessed” — she insists, as if she doesn’t blush when kiss her lips in the morning, as if she doesn’t blush when you get dressed or undressed in front of her, or when you hold her hand and introduce her as your girlfriend.

she’s a raging, awkward blusher and she needs to come to terms with that.

you snigger, but the pain however — is still there. “owh…” you hiccup, and as soon as that thought creeps inside ellie’s mind, she swallows, no — gulps, and places her palm gently on your breast. then, she holds you by the back of your neck and makes you look up at her. “can i help you, babe?” she questions, a quivering breath following her query. your lips part, and you want to say “yes”, it's echoing in your thoughts, but all that comes out is a small sigh of relief. it nearly makes you tremble, your own hand never felt that good. you nod slowly, and ellie nods with you. “just… a little massage, yeah?” she rasps, tongue moistening her bottom lip. all she needs to do is help you find relief from that dull, pinching ache, but all she yearns to do is make you whimper out again. god, ellie…

“close your eyes… i got you” she comforts sympathetically. although her voice is commanding, you don’t follow her demand, because the way her tatted forearm flexes when she spreads her fingers on your breasts, makes you want to watch and be an audience of that glorious show forever. ellie follows your eyes, and then her own — fall down on your aching breasts. “gonna take your bra off… that ok?”, she asks, as if she doesn't already know the answer. you shut your eyes involuntarily, when her finger strokes down on your clothed, aching nipple. “i got you”, she repeats, and as soon as you know it, your bare but swollen breasts are loose, and on full display. they hurt still, but the relief is apparent on your face. ellie bites her lip, and thank god your eyes are closed, because her pupils grew twice in size, and she doesn’t want it to be sexual but she can’t help it when you’re so…

“i really do love them…” she whispers but it's simply to herself, albeit your ears catch it and you “hmm?” in response. “nothing, relax, close your eyes… gonna let ellie take care of you now, yeah?, deep breaths...” — the warmth inside your stomach spreads, and it feels like sweet and sticky lava. you hum, sighing in relief, followed by a small hiccup of pain or… arousal, as soon as ellie takes both of your breasts in her hand and begins kneading them together. it’s all very gentle, albeit her wheeze sounding breaths. when her thumb caresses your nipple, you flinch in the slightest and ellie picks up on it. “right there?” she questions, and when you find her thumb on your swollen nipple again, it’s wet — she licked it, brought her digit inside her mouth and sucked. ellie begins circling the puffy nob, now wet and glistening with her saliva, and your hips buck forward. she hums, “still hurts?” — you want to shake your head no, because it really doesn’t feel like it’s hurting any more, at least not in a bad way, but you nod your head instead. “awh…” she coos, nodding her head again, with you. when ellie hears the small whimper that escapes your mouth, she chuckles. “really… really hurts, pretty girl?” she teases, still keeping her touches light as a feather and nothing but gentle. “yeah… hurts, ellie”, you whisper, and ellie sighs and hums. she traces faint circles on both of your nipples, “think i need to work harder then… huh, poor baby?”, she mutters underneath her breath.

when her hot mouth latches itself onto your nipple, your chest all but buzzes and heaves. a moan that you can’t bring yourself to suppress leaves your mouth, and ellie groans in response. her tongue forms small circles on your nipples, both of her hands still kneading the flesh, lifting it up and then dropping it down. her index and middle finger squeeze your nipples together underneath her tongue and you wince, a small broken sob coming from deep within. she milks the pain away, and if it was perhaps in liquid form, you could say you were sucked dry. “shh, shh…” ellie murmurs. she attaches her mouth back on the nob, now suckling it in and out of her needy, hot mouth. "uh-huh... let go for me", she whispers, gently flicking a nipple up and down.

every time you whimper and cry, she has to squeeze her thighs together — because my god do you tits hurt but her cunt aches even harder.

when ellie takes your nipple out of her mouth, you let out of a small gasp. she wipes the corner of her mouth with her thumb, and takes a moment to admire the work of art sitting in front of her. your eyes, closed shut. your bottom lip, in between your teeth, and your breasts — covered up, glistening with her warm saliva. “jesus, i…” she murmurs under her breath. you push your chest forward, an attempt of showing her you’re begging for her mouth again, “hurts, please… ellie, help” you mewl, and with a grunt followed by a whimper, ellie latches on to them again. you open your eyes slowly, looking down at her through wet eyelashes, and when you see her — her eyes are intently shut, her mouth devouring you, forehead covered by sweet beads of thin sweat. “just wanna help you, just… wanna help” she whispers, her tongue pathetically hanging out of her pouty pink lips.

the desire to take her unoccupied hand, and give it a small kiss is strong, but you quickly notice — it is nothing but unoccupied. it’s shoved down her pants, moving with fervour and want. when she opens her eyes and sees that you’re looking, she whimpers a blocked but high pitched sound. “hurts for me too”, she pats her palm directly on her achy cunt, and it might be unconventional pain-reliever, but perhaps... your ache flowed into her.

#𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 anon 🎀#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie smut

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glitchfiles · 8 months

Text

heatstroke. [ljn]

pairing. mechanic! jeno x (afab) reader

wc. 3.8k+

cw. SMUT MINORS DNI!!, hard dom! jeno, profanity/cursing, outdoor/car sex, oral (m receiving), throat fucking, boot grinding, rough sex, degradation, name-calling (’slut’, ‘fucktoy’), etc…

an. i had this idea in june, but haven't had much time to write until recently. i had to rush a bit because i wanted to get it out before august/summer ends, I just made it lol. if there’s typos… oops… hope you enjoy :3

just before the muggy summer air lulls you to sleep, a series of sharp knocks at your windows jolts you fully conscious. as your eyes snap wide open, you turn to look to see a man standing outside of your car. he can tell by the bemused expression on your face you're struggling to figure out why he's here.

"roadside assistance, you called." realisation washes over your features, and the mystery man can't help but find it amusing how little control you have over your countenance.

you open the door slowly, allowing him time to move back, and groggily step out of the car. rays of sun prick your skin - the floral mini dress you had on left more of you exposed than covered.

"thanks for coming," you laugh nervously.

the sun is blinding, you can just make out the figure before you as you give your knight in shining armour a squinted once over.

his uniform consists of navy overalls and heavy boots; though he had taken the top half of his overalls off and tied the sleeves around his waist, you're sure he's sweltering. the white tank top he wore hugs his broad, muscular torso, which you can't help but ogle at.

"no problem. any idea what the issue is?" as he nears your car, you get a better look at his face. and just as you feared, he has a face to match the body.

his features are sharp, from his jaw to the upturned corners of his mouth to his nose. in contrast, the way his eyes soften up as he smiles at you fills your stomach with butterflies.

you catch yourself then clear your throat before responding. "no, it just broke down. i'm lucky i pulled over in time."

if you were trying to hide that you were checking him out, you were doing the worst job ever.

unabashed stares were far from foreign to him, he couldn’t say he minded them - especially when they were from someone cute.

he takes a quick walk around the vehicle, checking for any external damage. "tyres look fine," he mumbles to himself.

then he stops at the hood to pop it open. a frown settles upon his features as he begins to try to diagnose the issue at hand.

you don't even try to understand what he's doing, you're honestly far more concerned with analysing every square inch of the adonis before you.

"you okay standing out here? it's pretty hot," he turns to you. you had lost track of time, has it been a few minutes or a few hours? "you can sit in my truck, it has ac, or i can get you some water."

"just the water is fine!" you respond, even though cold air sounded like paradise right now actually, "i've always been somewhat interested in cars and stuff." you lied again.

"oh, really?" he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

"yeah, my dad used to fix old cars up - he'd make me hand him tools from time to time." you walked closer to him, leaving a few centimetres between your bodies.

"then, you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit? i think i know what the issue is here." you nodded vehemently, unable to stop yourself from forming an eager smile.

only when he walks away do you realise you have been holding your breath. you barely have time to catch it before he's back with two chilled water bottles in one hand and a hefty toolbox in the other. bulging muscles ripple across his arms, the sight puts a fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach.

he sets the box down with a light grunt, then looks at you kindly and with an outstretched arm to hand you a cool bottle. the fact his hand, which you notice is comparatively larger and rougher, brushes against yours only exacerbates your condition.

you can barely look him in the eye as you take the bottle from him; you waste no time before cracking it open and gulping down a considerable amount. his eyes can’t help but follow the droplets of water that escape the corner of your mouth, trickling down your chin, your neck and then your chest before disappearing between your cleavage (which he had been trying to ignore from the moment you stepped out of your car).

“someone’s thirsty,” he mentally slaps himself and comments with a chuckle to ease the moment of tension.

he takes a swig of water before putting on gloves, picking a took out of the box and getting to work.

for a moment, only the sound of distant wildlife in the surrounding area can be heard. leaving you ample time to watch. the way his brows furrow as he concentrates on his job is more attractive than it should be.

“my name is jeno by the way,” he breaks the silence. you hadn’t even thought to ask, you quickly reply with your name. “where are you heading?”

“my friend’s place for a barbecue. this was supposed to be a shortcut, but it ended up leaving me stranded in the middle of nowhere.” he lets out a sympathetic hum before letting a comfortable silence fall between the two of you again.

he hands whatever tool he has in his hand to you and asks, “can you pass me the torque wrench?”

you stare at him blankly then you stare down at the array of tools laid out. the temperature of your body increases even further as he smiles at you knowingly.

“hard to think with the heat, huh?” he chuckles walking past you to pick up the tool you would have never guessed was what he was asking for. “don’t worry about it, you can just stand and watch,” he said as though that wasn’t what you had been doing up until now anyway.

he’s sure you’re not actually interested in cars in the slightest but rattles on about the topic. most of it all flies over your head but you nod and giggle as your gaze trails over the veins on his arms are he tightens bolts.

after a short while, he stands up straight. wiping his forearm over his sweaty forehead he declares he thinks he’s done.

“key?” he plucks off his gloves as you fish it out of your purse and hand it over to him. “glad you know that one.” he teases.

you watch with bated breath as he gets into your car to start it; sure enough, the engine purrs when he turns the key.

he jumps out of the car and flashes you a proud smile that makes you melt more than the heat.

"so...” he starts tucking his gloves into his pocket then he rubs his hands together before placing them on his hips. "how would you like to pay?"

"oh yeah, let me just get my purse. how much was it?." you open your bag to rummage around for your wallet as he tells you the price.

your phone…

sunglasses…

a pack of gum…

lip gloss…

no wallet.

you smile up at him nervously, excusing yourself to go look in your glove compartment.

jeno follows you around to see you bent over and rummaging around. he loses track of time, too preoccupied with the way your dress rides up to barely cover your ass. he didn't notice how translucent the fabric was until now, he could just make out the outline of the thong you were wearing.

while he blissfully enjoys the show, dread fills you at the realisation you may not be able to pay. you desperately look for stray bits of cash, but you can’t seem to find even a penny in your car all of a sudden.

your frantic search yields absolutely nothing. you take a second to steel yourself before stepping back onto the ground and turning towards him with a doe-eyed guilty expression that makes something stir in his abdomen.

"i swear i had it but-" you mutter, finally moving to sit facing him in the passenger’s seat. he suddenly feels a lot bigger now you're staring up at him and he's looking down at you. "but it's not- i don't have any money so-"

"well, there are other ways to pay." only when the words leave his mouth does jeno realise there is room for misinterpretation but, for some reason, he doesn't feel like correcting himself.

maybe it was the warmth or the stress of your predicament, but your mind began to entertain itself with thoughts that had nothing to do with getting this man that you had only met today his money.

you blinked dumbly, absolutely none of the cogs turning in your brain as you started eyeing him again. starting at the neckline of his tank and then fixating on his deep collarbones momentarily before drifting down.

sweat had turned the white cotton covering his torso almost transparent. the material clung to the ridges of his toned chest and abs, leaving almost nothing to the imagination.

your mouth went dry; you were eyeing him like a dehydrated desert wanderer who had just spotted an oasis.

“like… how?” you blink up at him as though you don’t catch his drift. the innocence you feign starts to chip away at his self-control.

though he comes off as rather relaxed on the outside, jeno is rather rigid with himself. he had to be to run a business with any success. but at the end of the day, he was his own boss; no one had to know about this.

he glanced around. you were on a road in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woodland and he couldn't remember the last time he had seen another car drive past.

he could bend his rules this once for you.

“you’re not just a pretty face, you’re a smart girl, right?” finally, he gives into the desire that had been building inside of him since the moment he laid eyes on you. his charming eye-smile turns into a dark glare; his voice drops a couple octaves. “use your head.”

without another word, you stand up and sink down to squat, reluctant to get your knees dirty. you stare up awaiting further instruction.

“you know transfers are a thing, right?” he laughs sliding a hand over your cheek, feeling a switch inside of him flip. here you were debasing yourself for a man you had just met. “i think i like this much better though, clever girl.”

he can’t believe you’re doing this.

he can’t believe he’s doing this.

you untie his overalls letting them drop down to his knees and tug down his boxers. internally you let out a sigh of relief at the sight of a well-groomed semi-hard cock. feeling it twitch up to attention as you wrap a hand around it. he groans out an obscenity as you begin to tentatively stoke him.

“you’re gonna need to do a lot more than that if you plan on giving me my money’s worth.” he tuts down at you, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your head.

“whatever you want.” the seductive lilt of your voice makes him reel.

“whatever?” his chest rises as he takes a deep breath and forms a light grip on your locks.

“anything.” you nod.

“then open your fucking mouth, slut.” his voice suddenly becomes gravelly and commanding as he cranes your head back. you obediently open up for him, wrapping your lips around his tip to lap at the salty fluid that had started to spill out of it.

“hands behind your back,” the look in his eyes is wild as he watches you promptly obey him without reluctance. you want to please him, repay him for his kindness.

you take the initiative to take him even deeper, creeping down inch by inch deeper with each bob; the more you take, the more drool escapes the corners of your mouth, dripping down in thick strings. you let out garbled moans, sending vibrations through him; his hand instinctively grips your locks, pushing his cock harshly into the back of your throat. you swallow a gag and tears prick your eyes but keep going.

“you’re so good,” he huffs, abdomen tightening, “you do this often? bet you’d let any man shove their cock down your throat, cheap fucking slut.”

you whine around him in protest, he lets you up to speak. you vehemently shake your head and choke out, “only you.“

“just for me.” his thumb softly endearingly caresses the back of your head. “god, what did i do to get this lucky.” he half mutters to himself before shoving himself back into your accepting mouth.

he continues to fuck into your face like you’re nothing but a hole and you take it. his head tips back as he lets out unbridled moans, comforted by the fact there was no one for miles to witness your debauchery, but infinitely turned on by the fact you were so out in the open.

jeno's breathing gets more ragged with each thrust, he hunches forward at the feeling of his orgasm hurtling towards him. if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed, you would smile as you brought a hand up to toy with his saliva-coated balls.

"oh my fucking- i'm cumming." it was the last push he needed before shooting his load down your throat. keeping you locked in place, nose smushed up against his pubic bone. all strength leaves your legs and you fall to your knees, the hard ground digs into your skin but the pain means nothing when he’s groaning about how well you’re taking his cum. you can barely breathe and your head is spinning but you wish you could make him cum again already.

after a while, he settles down from his high and slowly removes himself. his hand grips firmly at your hair, keeping you in place.

“what a fucking mess.” he sneers while admiring his work, how filthy you look kneeling before him. spit and cum cover your chin down to your chest; the low neckline of your dress is soaked. not to mention your makeup, black inky streaks ran down your cheeks. “liked taking my cock so much you forgot you had something to look pretty for.”

the look in your eyes was close to piety, unfazed that there was no way you could go to your friend’s house in this state. maybe he’d fucked your face a little too hard and knocked some sense out of you. it was the only explanation for you so gleefully offering yourself to every whim of a stranger; jeno was not a good enough man to refuse such an offer.

“want more? you know, most of my customers tip.” he says in an expectant tone. “no pressure though.”

“wanna fuck me?” you run a finger up his thigh, skipping being coy - you needed him.

“i don’t know, can i?” he wants to toy with you, however.

“i said you can do anything, didn’t i?” you shuffle closer to him on your knees, batting your eyelashes up at him.

“anything…” he repeats, dark thoughts run through his mind. a deep, shaky breath leaves jeno’s nostrils as he tries to contain the arousal stirring back up inside of him. he moves his leg forward, situating one of his heavy work boots between your legs; with the grasp he still has on you, he forces your core to come down against it.

he doesn’t have to utter another word before your hips start moving. you bite your lip to contain the sounds threatening to escape you, shame finally kicking in somewhat. but he was having none of that; a sharp tug at your hair was all it took, he tipped your head back, and all the moans came spilling out.

“good.” his praise encourages you to circle your hips faster. the panties you have on do nothing to hide how slick you are.

you angle your hips for more stimulation, your swollen clit growing more sensitive by the second. you haven’t been at this for that long, but he can tell by the way your moans pick in pitch you’re nearly there.

“close already?” he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing into you harder. “go ahead, cum on my boot. dirty, pathetic slut.” you whimper out pitifully as your orgasm finally wreaks you.

he leaves you no time to recuperate before tugging your locks to make you stand and smashing his lips against yours. only now does it hit you that you’ve skipped quite a few bases, it’s the first time you’ve felt his lips against your own.

you melt into his domineering kiss, trying your best to keep up with his lascivious pace. hands grope at your body, smoothing up your thighs and under your dress.

a whine leaves your lips when his hands roughly squeeze your ass. he wastes no time attaching his lips to your neck, nipping at the skin as he moves to start pulling your panties off, you help him get them off the rest of the way and throw them somewhere into your car.

deft fingers wander between your folds, collecting your wetness on his fingertips. the slightest brush against your raw clit makes you shudder in his grasp.

“gonna use this wet little pussy, just like i did your throat.” he whispered hotly against the skin of your neck, teasing your miserably sopping slit. “and you’re gonna take it like the good fucktoy you are.”

now’s the point he’d finger a girl open a bit, maybe make her cum again. he’s usually kinder, more careful, less selfish; all that runs through his mind are animalistic thoughts of ruining you.

you see the moment his resolve snaps completely, pupils dilating as a vein pops up on his temple. with no finesse at all, you’re turned around; a hand plants itself on your back, firmly pushing your torso down, you barely cushion your fall onto the car seat.

he almost goes right in before the last fragment of sense left inside of him reminds him he’s forgotten something crucial.

“shit, i don’t have a condom.” he slaps a hand over his face, vexed over the possibility of things ending here.

“i think i might,” you hurriedly reach into the glove compartment. not taking long to produce a foil packet and hand it to him; you turn to see he has an amused expression on his face.

“you remembered condoms but not money?” he snickers. “priorities.”

you lower your head in embarrassment, begging him to get on with it. he obliges, quickly ripping open the packet and wrapping his cock up. with a deep hum, he slides his cock up between your ass cheeks. your back arches to push your backside further against him temptingly.

your mouths hang open in unison as he slides into you. he releases a long groan as he bottoms out, your tight unprepared hole swallowing him up deliciously. jeno’s body moves on its own, allowing neither of you time to adjust before reeling his hips back and slamming back in. his hands find purchase on your hips as he begins to pound you, digging into your curves for leverage; each thrust punching a choked moan out of you.

“taking me so well,” he eyes the shameless mess beneath him, skin glistening with perspiration. he’s sure he’s equally as sweaty with the heat, probably more so with how much he is exerting himself; sweaty bangs stuck to his forehead, he can feel droplets racing down the sharp contours of his face to drip off his chin. yet he feels no fatigue, adrenaline keeps him going - keeps him fucking into you at a bestial pace. something about being surrounded by wilderness draws out a side of him so despicably feral, a side of him he had never been able to admit to having.

when he said he would use you, he meant it well and truly. his cock bullied its way deeper into you.

“god! so fucking deep.” you manage to stutter out as he mercilessly crams every last inch of his cock inside. you’re sure he doesn’t mean or care to, but he hits all the spots that make your walls clench around him tighter, sucking him in deeper.

“i can feel how close you are,” your legs shake, everything becoming more and more overwhelming by the second. his fingers dig into your flesh, holding your squirming body, “like being my fucktoy, yeah? gonna cream all over my cock?”

your legs shake and your nails scrape at the hard cushion beneath you as you bawl out incoherent words about how you’re cumming. your eyes roll into the back of you as the feeling seizes your body wholly. leaving your ears ringing and broken moans tumbling out of you as he drills you through your high.

once you fall, your legs give out and you fall limp on the seat. jeno doesn’t let up at all though. strong hands lay into your shoulders, your body is pressed further into the chair with his body weight. you barely have the space to breathe but he couldn’t care less, not when he was so close to the peak.

he plants a foot on the car’s sill to anchor himself through a barrage of unrestrained, choppy thrusts. your poor car jolts and whines under their power.

between getting your throat fucked raw and brain-melting overstimulation, you could not form words; nothing that came out of jeno was coherent either, guttural noises of pleasure erupted from him.

you only find out he’s cumming when you feel his cock twitch inside your sensitive walls. the fact he’s moaning your name between grunts is something you barely pick up; your body and mind have gone numb. motor function is off the table now, the only movement you can manage are involuntary muscle twitches.

jeno stills, basking in the fading pleasure, catching his breath. you’re too out of it to let out a small whine as he pulls out of you, leaving you devastatingly empty.

“you good?” he pipes up, as you sluggishly pick yourself up.

“fine, i think.” the heat and exhaustion have evidently defeated you; the look in your eyes is vacant as you wipe the sweat off of your forehead. you fix the straps of your soiled dress and plant your feet on the ground, your legs give out momentarily, but you catch yourself before you fall to the ground. he can't help but burst out laughing.

“look at you,” he takes your hand to steady you. the smirk on his face tells you he’s thoroughly enjoying the fact he’s fucked you to the point you can’t walk straight. “let’s get you cleaned up and home.”

“thanks,” your cheeks grow hot as you limp toward his truck.

“next time, bring money. not everyone’s as nice as me.”

★ thank you for reading! my inbox is open for feedback and requests!

#jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct hard hours #nct smut #📂 ..\ .◜◡◝

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genderlessdude92 · 14 days

Note

Hi, I really love your work! If your requests are open and if it's allowed, can I request for headcanons of Vox/Val/Alastor/Lucifer with their biological baby w reader?? I'm sorry if this is weird I just die for family dynamics😭😭 like, how would they act, would they be present or neglectful, and that stuff!! Ik it's impossible to have a child in hell but HEY. ITS FICTIONAL. It's really your decision if this is super fluff or super angst, but personally I believe it would be angst because it's hell and they are really famous 😭 THANKU

AUTHOR RESPONSE: First ask but urmmmmmm OFC OFC OFC!!! I’m all in for dis req :3 I feel like i absolutely will eat up Al’s part of this post so stay tuned. Other ones are questionable because idk if it’s OOC or not but…I’m just a girl!! >.< (I’m a genderless dude as you can see from the name ^^) I’m sorry i’m not funny- These might be short btw im rushing a little bit bc i’m trying to start a multi-chapter fix yay awesome but uhhh i’m still having fun with this 💋

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AL, VOX, VAL, & LUCI WITH THEIR BIOLOGICAL CHILD

(and reader that gave birth to em somehow <3)

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PAIRINGS: Alastor x Reader, Lucifer x Reader, Vox x Reader, Valentino x Fem!Reader (ALL SEPARATE)

SUMMARY: Alastor, Lucifer, Vox, and Valentino are dads now. Aw shucks. (Headcannons)

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Breeding kink, (obv bc Val is in here), Val mention, reader is female because they literally gave birth to them, mentions of pregnancy, birth, Valentino being a weird fuck, Valentino again, unhealthy duck obsession in Lucifer’s area, Breastfeeding, Cannibalism, physical slaps, everybody being nervous shots but Vox, really rushed, lmk if i missed anything pookie (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

please don’t steal/copy/translate my work. But thanks for liking it, though!!! (๑ᵕॢ૩ᵕॢ)*౨˚ൗ

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. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

-Alastor is 100% nervous at first since he has to be the dad and his dad wasn’t…the best!! ^^

-But also doesn’t want to back away because, I mean, it’s kinda rude to just walk away from your creation that you INTENDED to make real.

-This gentleman’s baby was not an accident, I assure you.

-Alastor would absolutely dangle the baby off the edge of a balcony just to tease you.

-Also tried to feed the baby devil meat to make it a cannibal.

-Suprisingly worked.

-Um.

-He probably got taught to knit by Rosie so if the baby ever needs clothes he’s on it.

-Cradles the baby during his radio show hours, aw, and if the baby ever cries he immediately cuts to a quick song break.

-If both you and Alastor are like completely booked and can’t take care of the baby, he’s giving it to Rosie.

-Rosie can’t? Charlie.

-Charlie can’t? Cancelling all plans.

-He just cares for his bloodline, yeah?

-If the baby ever needs like a chewy sensory toy, he’s going to try and get one that resembles Lucifer.

-Like and apple or a snake OOO A SNAKE NVM

-Snake is better since it resembles two ppl mwuhehehe

-Alastor would be a great girl dad but in general i think he would be rlly doting to them.

. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

-Oh, you thought Alastor was nervous?

-Oh, you’re so funny.

-‘Cuz Lucifer is QUAKING once he finds out you’re pregnant.

-and expecting.

-…and that it’s alive and out the womb.

-Basicslly all because he wasn’t really in Charlie’s life that much.

-But you told him that this can be a second chance?

-Which made him cry more than he was before.

-Yikes.

-Feeds the baby the most fine meals to ever exist for a baby to eat, even tried to sneak in some wine in its milk bottle.

-Then earned a slap at the back of his head from yours truly.

-You.

-I see him as a helicopter parent at first, but then is just chill once they grow more older.

-But he’s like, devoting his immortal LIFE to this baby 24/7.

-The nursery is themed ducks.

-Everywhere.

-Sometimes you get dizzy when you walk in.

-He even wanted to name the baby duck.

-You slapped him again, of course.

-This man acts like a 8th grade frat boy whenever you breast feed the baby like he just scoots away gagging.

-Another slap.

IM SORRY-

-One time in bed you guys were like getting freaky or sum and then you but his nip

-“Honey…what was that?”

-“That’s just how it feels, Luci.”

-“…What?-“

-“When i breastfeed B/N.”

-“…Ew.”

-“BITCH I-“

. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

-Bro is so confident in being a dad.

-The first day after the baby was born he cancelled all his special guests on his show just for the baby to be the only one.

-This man is fucking insane.

-Puts this baby on his. advertisements.

-We’re talking billboards, pop-ups, etc.

-Only lets his supervisor babysit the baby when needed.

-Don’t expect Velvette or Val to even step foot near this baby without Vox in the room.

-It’s like a sibling love-hate relationship :D

-Now i wouldn’t say this baby was on purpose…most likely?

-But honestly, it might happen again because he thinks you’re hot pregnant.

-Who said that what.

-Omg who typed that???

-Fuck this is so short uhhh He like puts on child shows for the baby if they sit in his lap.

-But the baby never ever sleeps in the bed you guys share.

-not in a million years.

-Puts those shirts that look like tuxedos on the baby but they’re just printed on.

-Feeds the baby deer meat.

-Has a deer head mounted above the baby’s crib.

-Takes him deer hunting.

-Vox just needs em to learn early.

. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠. ◠ . ◠ . ◠ . ◠

-Valentino was “so, so careful” when you guys did it.

-and this baby was 100% and accident.

-obviously you guys couldn’t abortion because like some health reason.

-Val cried that night.

-It was kinda funny that he was crying to keeping a baby.

sorry not sorry

-When the baby is born,

-Oh god should i write that

-Uh

-He’s probably recording.

-Not posting just like…saving it.

-Guys, come on, it Valentino, you should’ve seen this coming.

-Deletes it later though fuck that’s hilarious.

-He starts whining and crying when he sees you breastfeeding.

-“Your wasting the milk, mi precioso, are you kidding me?”

-He’s like in the middle of being a good dad and a bad dad.

-Suprised he made it that far on the scale.

-whenever he’s busy, he gives the baby to some random star and tells them to bring them back by like 10:30 or smth.

-with a coffee order. Very iconic.

-Same idea with Vox and liking you pregnant, and tried to get you pregnant again but you ask him why he doesn’t have a condom on if you don’t have your pills.

-He gets frustrated when that happens lol.

-Can’t wake up the baby!

proceeds to wake them up each night 3 times minimum

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AUTHOR’S NOTE: zomg this was sososo fun to write <3 But it’s so fucking short and i didn’t even realize until i was done. I’m actually so sorry. I still like these headcannons, very humorous, very real, thank you for asking me to make this because this is my first ask i got, i still have exactly 16 more, so ur just a little lucky duck, asker. Support is appreciated! New multi-chapter fix i’m working on might be posted on Friday-Sunday!! Baiiii!!!!

-Genderlessdude92, Kiki

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master list ouuu

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x wife reader #hazbin lucifer x reader #valentino x reader #vox x reader #hazbin vox x reader #lucifer x reader

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softwiingz · 8 months

Text

MY FIANCÉ’S REACTION TO MY NEW PERFUME GONE WRONG?

cw: pheromone perfume, messy head (both receiving), you n bo are engaged, 69, you’re picked up by bo, reader is wearing make up, minors n ageless blogs dni 🦋 sorry if bo is ooc this is just my interpretation of his reaction:3 enjoy!

♡ ༘*.ﾟ

“f-fuck! tarou wait!”

you’re not quite sure how you expected your fiancé to react to your new little perfume, but him being nose deep in your pussy wasn’t one of them. you placed a few, maybe two drops of the infamous scent into your palms and massaged them into the places bokuto loved to kiss most. you were pleased with the aroma, notes of a warm sugary vanilla that left you smelling delicious. however you were sure the reactions were faked and far from genuine, you had to see for yourself if this little pink vile would drive your man up the wall.

and that it did, you were thrown over his broad shoulders in an instant as he practically sprinted to your shared bedroom.

now you’re here, back arched and ass in the air as bokuto devours what’s his. your fists are balled into the satin sheets and you can feel his hot tongue delve deep into your drooly cunt, lapping up everything you have to offer him. “you keep teasin me,” he groans through gritted teeth, his voice haggard “wearin my jersey and skimpy panties around the house, sending me gym pics of that ass and now this shit? be glad i haven’t fucked your brains out yet.”

he lands a heavy smack to your ass, lapping at your sweetness as if his life depended on it. and even through your protests and whiny pleas for him to slow down, your hips betrayed you, squirming in an effort to feel his fat tongue drag up and down the crevices of your soaked pussy. “kou, baby- shiit! we’re gonna be late!” your honey laced moans fall on deaf ears, bokuto too entranced in his pleasure and yours. when he finally pulls away you can see your juices glistening and dripping down his chin, his tongue licking it off his slightly swollen lips.

you’re left with your face buried into the sweat slicked sheets, mascara left clumpy and smeared in your under lash line. you may think you’re done but bokuto hasn’t had his fix, his hand focused at the base of his heavy cock, pearly beads of pre leaking at his tip before it’s smeared along his pulsing shaft. “we aren’t going anywhere. now sit that pretty pussy on my face, and let me stuff that mouth full…”

strong forearms wrap around your thighs, your fiancés hand pushing you down to his lips before he’s at it again, his muffled hunger filled groans vibrating off the walls along with your moans. you lay on his toned thigh and mouth at his throbbing length until you work up the strength to take his leaky tip into your mouth. his hips buck up at the feel of the velvety textures of the inside of your mouth.

your hips and your mouth work in unison , both swiveling in a rhythm that has your soon to be husband left writhing underneath you and cursing his desires into your soaked cunt. “when we get married i’m gonna give you the fuckin’ world! treat you like the d-diamond you are, just please keep suckin’ me off like that!” and you return the same sentiments, whining and mewling with his dick in your mouth “mhm, anything you want baby! anythin’!” you pop him out of your mouth and lick at his sack, suckling him into your mouth as your hand focuses on his overly sensitive tip.

bokuto is about ready to blow his load, his core tightening and calves tensing up. he continues to slurp at your folds, saliva and your arousal dripping down his chin as his thumb rubs at your clit vigorously. “fuck! fuck! w-wait!” you squeal, thighs shaking thunderously around his head as you take him back into your mouth, tongue dragging along his shaft.

you can feel him throb, soon thick ropes of milky white fill your mouth, some of it leaking from the corners of your gloss smeared lips. you take it all in, swallowing his load as you ride his face feverishly. you’re so close and he knows it, continuing to strum at you clit while your nails dig into his calves and you cry “c-cumming! koutarou!!”

it’s safe to say the pheromone perfume everyone has been hyping up deserved it’s praise, leaving you more than satisfied.

“let’s just say the before and after pics of my make up say it all….” ★★★★★

#haikyuu x reader smut #bokuto x reader smut #haikyu smut #bokuto smut #hq smut #hq x reader smut

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satoruwiki · 1 month

Text

SHHH, QUIET! — CHOSO KAMO

minors, ageless and blank blogs dni.

content: nsfw; smut; afab!f!reader; masturbation; exhibitionism

synopsis: you take your bf to the movies, he won’t remember anything about the plot though <3

w.c: 0.8k

a/n: a whole week without posting omg… laziness and burn out are killing me rn. Silly drabble i came up with before i go back to writing for requests that have been sitting there for a month (sorry abt that lol).

You sat on your seat, placing your drink on the cup holder. "I heard mixed reviews about this one, so I hope it's not an absolute ass and a waste of my time and money," you say, grabbing a handful of popcorn as you watch the trailers for upcoming movies on the giant screen in front of you.

"You should wait until the movie starts before you start eating, or you'll complain that you ran out halfway through the movie," Choso suggests, sitting beside you.

The film finally starts a few minutes later, and while it's not bad, that's not what you really came for. Some might call you perverted or kinky for what you're plotting, and personally, you think both are correct. Slyly, you place your hand on your boyfriend's thigh, your gaze still fixed on the screen before you. A relatively innocent act to an outsider, yet your actions grow darker as you slowly move up to the junction of his thigh and crotch. A playful smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you notice from the corner of your eye how your boyfriend tenses under your risque touch but does not remove it from there.

Choso leans just a little, his jaw tense. "What are you doing?" he hushes. You can tell how nervous he is: his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard, and his hands curl into fists. His body jolts when your hand finally palms on his crotch.

You answer him by placing your index finger over your lips as a sign for him to be quiet and wink at him. Your smile turns into a playful and even victorious one as you slowly unzip his jeans -careful to make as little noise as possible- and Choso hasn't rejected your advances yet.

He must be thankful that the room theatre is dark and isn't very crowded, you being the only ones sitting at the very back of the room. But the adrenaline and the fear of being caught course through your veins is what makes everything more exciting, no?

With the palm of your hand, you grope the area, caressing it in a slow but exciting rhythm for the conditions you find yourself in. Choso's senses are on higher alert than ever, his nerves sensitive, and the mere touch of your hand against his boxer-clad member makes him gasp quietly.

Feeling his member half erect, you spit in your hand and pull down a bit of his underwear, revealing the noticeable veins on his pelvis and his cock, taking it in your hands to stroke it languidly. As you stroked the pink tip of his cock, Choso shuddered and sighed quietly through his teeth. He thought you were being cruel to him, for he, who was vocal during sex, was forced to keep quiet so as not to be discovered, which was no easy task for him. Choso found it increasingly difficult to pay attention to the film, blinked slowly and rested his head on the back of his seat.

"Fuck-" a faint curse comes out shaky out of his lips as your thumb grazes over his weeping slit. He wraps his fingers around your wrist as you keep pumping his now fully erect shaft, his hips subconsciously jerking up to meet your thrusts.

Your boyfriend knew better than to fold on to your antics, but he can't find it in himself either to reject you when you're looking at him with those pretty doe eyes and squeezing your thighs together with your teeth latching onto your bottom lip, keen about making him cum. His laboured breaths match yours, his maw agape and mind drowsy. He's forgotten about the movie and has focused on your ministrations on him instead, the warmth of your hand curled up on his hard cock as you keep pretending to watch the movie when you're already picturing a film of your own in your mind, stuffed full of his dick in the bathroom stalls as he pounds into you unforgivably as a get back to you.

You feel the veins around his dick throb as thick spurts of semen percolate out of him, a low moan elating from him as he cums on your hand. Bashful, Choso covers his mouth as he reminds himself where he is, but you couldn't care less about the stares you're getting from the other people in the room. They probably guessed what was happening back there with the squelches that did not belong to the background sound of the movie, though perhaps it deserved an award for best sound mixing.

As the film comes to an end, you walk out of the cinema hand in hand with a blushing and embarrassed Choso. "I think the plot was great! What did you think?" You ask him, with a fox-like grin drawn on your face.

He shoots you a glare that you know means you've pushed it too far, yet he's too embarrassed at the moment to say anything about it, and he mumbles. "...It was- It was great."

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bangtanflirt · 20 days

Text

(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut

____

Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.

“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”

“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”

“You want it to dry slower?”

The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”

He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.

“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”

“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”

“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.

Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.

Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.

“Fruit delivery!”

Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.

“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.

Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.

“Three days?”

He nods.

“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.

“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.

It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.

___

Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Joon says with furrowed brows alone.

He’s going to hate this.

Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.

It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.

They were the first two members of the pack, after all.

Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.

Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.

Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.

He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.

The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.

“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.

Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.

Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.

“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”

Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”

“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.

“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.

“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”

The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.

“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”

Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.

“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”

He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.

Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”

Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.

“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.

The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.

He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.

Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”

“What if he wants space from me?”

“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”

Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.

Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.

“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.

Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.

Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.

“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”

With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.

“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”

“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.

Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.

He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.

It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.

The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.

Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.

“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”

“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”

“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”

Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.

“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.

Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.

“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”

Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.

___

Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.

“What is it pups?”

Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.

“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”

Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.

“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”

“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.

Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.

“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”

It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”

Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,

“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”

Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.

“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.

Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.

“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.

“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”

“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”

“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”

“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”

Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”

He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.

“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”

“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”

Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.

___

You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.

You’re Shin Y/N.

You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?

It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.

It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.

“Right there is fine.”

He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.

“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.

“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.

“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”

“No thank you.”

Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.

“I miss you.”

The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.

The wolf simply scoffs.

“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.

Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.

Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.

“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”

He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”

“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”

You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.

Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”

He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.

“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”

You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.

Friend.

Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.

Jungkook’s never had a real one before.

He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.

Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.

The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.

And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.

He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.

That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.

If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.

“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”

“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”

Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.

That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.

To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.

But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.

You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?

That’s never happened before.

____

A/N: It's good to be back!!!

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#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts ot7 poly #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

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pupcuck · 1 month

Text

ASKING FOR IT !

ft. og4 leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, smut, cheating (not on reader), ooc leon sorry, he’s mean, negging, misogyny, reference to past rape/non-con, unresolved trauma, suicidal thoughts duhhh, he calls reader ugly a lot, leon subs for his gf but doms reader, non-con to consensual sex, manipulation, some .. uh waterboarding? he dunks your head in water, opioid addiction but it’s minor LMFAOO

note. haii… um feedback whether it’s good or bad appreciated really forced myself to write this so im like ack. hating everything i write but! ignore typos :3 it’s not as fleshed out as i wanted .. soooo it reads pretty jolty but yah 😭 and the smut is like not. IDK I’m ugh not into it just couldn’t bring myself to extend stuff that I really wanted to develop n he’s ooc. BUT!! again ignore typos or I’ll cry n feedback/constructive criticism appreciated <3

Leon has a girlfriend. He can never hold down a girl, his ability to scare women away is preternatural, so it’s a big deal. And she’s fucking hot. Not like model hot, but pornstar hot. She’s got tits so firm they might as well be bulletproof. Bottle blonde with eyes that swallow up her whole face. Her stomach doesn’t crease when she sits. It’s the type of beauty that takes its form in slashes of red lace and nylon. Not many women are out of his league, but she is.

They have hot sex like attractive people tend to do, and it goes something along the lines of this.

He goes:

Is that dick good, baby? You like it? Right there, baby?

And she goes:

Fuck, yes, baby! Harder, deeper— Oh, right there!

And then she doesn’t cum.

So there’s that, but he’s working on it.

Leon doesn’t take well to tips on how to fuck. Reading advice columns in the Men’s Health magazine leaves a funny taste in his mouth. It might be the blood from the castrated image of his masculinity. Who knows.

He struggles with that sort of thing. A nice face does nothing for a man who doesn’t actually like anything about himself. Leon’s still that wimpy self-hating loser he was all those years ago. In all fairness to God, there are a few added tweaks here and there. Some bug fixes. Now he’s drunk and shallow too! Misanthropic when he’s at his very best.

As a kid, mom told Leon to be a nice boy so he was a nice boy. Not because he was ever a particularly nice boy, but for her sake. So instead of acting out he would go and crush ants beneath his thumb in the front yard because there is this mean part of Leon that splinters inside of him like cooked bones.

Life to Leon is being fucked into apologising for being alive so it’s no wonder he’s still harbouring the insecurities of a boy he isn't.

When he was eighteen it was by ugly old men who abhorred him for being the embodiment of whatever it was they were hiding from their wives. His legs looked nice thrown over a pair of big shoulders. They were so thin back then, model-type shit. All of those men mildly resembled his dad, but that’s something he wouldn’t quite like to crack down on yet. Leon’s being open enough as it is.

When he was twenty-one it was his headache of a first girlfriend. It was the bullet wound in his shoulder. When he was twenty-two it was being passed around boot camp like a dirty needle. When he was twenty-seven it was Luis who was nothing and everything in between. It was a picture book princess like Ashley. The scar on his shoulder. Stigmata. Glory Be. Whatever.

(And Jack, it was always Jack. Pale all over like a healed scar.)

What Leon is trying to get across, he’s not quite sure. Maybe that he's nice in theory and the reality is he’s a self-confessed charlatan of niceness. Or that he can’t fuck. He can’t fuck because he is deeply traumatised. Yeah. Maybe that’s what he’s trying to say. It’s an excuse, sure, doesn’t make it the truth though. Leon can’t fuck ‘cause he’s useless at most things that don’t include guns. He can’t fuck ‘cause he was unattractive as a teenager and that solidified the way he feels about himself now.

Leon’s got one thing going for him - he fingers her pussy till his fingers prune. Eats her out till he gets lockjaw.

“Oh, you’re so good at that,” she says, kissing his slicked-up lips.

Then her eyes flit to his hard dick and she gives him that strange half-smile. One that seems to say: Not with that. His dick. Obviously.

His shit is big enough, it’s long enough— It’s enough. And it’s pretty. Could put a bow on to make it real cute. Could manufacture a dildo inspired by it. So Leon cannot for the life of him wrap his head around her problem. It’s not his dicks fault her pussy is fucking broken. Her broken pussy doesn’t get to make his dick sad. Doesn’t get to lay devastating blows on his gone-with-the-wind ego.

Another thing is, her sister is an ugly bitch. That upsets Leon and his dick in tow. You’re a student, taking a break for some reason Leon has not bothered to fathom. He couldn’t care less. Go do it someplace else. In this house, you’re nothing more than a cockblock. Leon could forgive you for being a cockblock if you weren’t ugly. Or vice versa.

It would be okay if Leon wasn’t stuck at home with you for hours at a time. Work fucked up his back, so he’s staying here in his girlfriend’s apartment eating her food, running her taps, fucking her badly and shitting on her sister.

You’re sat on the other end of the table with a soggy bowl of cereal while he nurses a juice box like a real man. What do ugly little things like you think about anyway?

When Leon was ugly he thought about forcing his dick into the cute girl next door between his more regular thoughts of what to eat for dinner and whether he stocked up on toilet paper or not.

When he was ugly, his day was made simply by a pretty girl looking in his general direction. So Leon makes sure to look in yours. Y’know, to fuel your perverted wet dreams. Your rape fantasies. What freaks think about when they’re near hot guys. Well, it’s strange actually. You tend to totally ignore him. When the two of you make brief eye contact, you don’t flounder or duck or bow your head like you’re shy— You just move on with your life. That bothers him. Leon’s hot now. He’s not the type of man you just brush over like that. He’s the type you gawk at in broad daylight, he’s the sort of guy you see in soft porn magazines.

“Good morning,” his girlfriend greets, “have a good sleep, sweetie?” She bumps your hip when you stand up to hug her.

She’s wearing stockings today. Oh, he loves stockings. He loves pencil skirts. He loves— He loves office wear. He wants to be put over her lap and spanked raw perhaps.

“Yeah, it’d be nice if your boyfriend stopped moaning like a girl though.” It’s said into her ear, but Leon hears it.

“I’m going now, honey,” his girlfriend tells him.

Like a good boy, Leon stands to bid her goodbye. Her blouse is sheer, shows off her black bra and he eyes it with distaste.

“What’s wrong, Leon?”

He doesn’t speak. Just glares at her perfect set of tits like a baby weaned off milk.

“I can’t take them off,” she snorts.

Leon wishes she could. Hang ‘em up in the closet and pop them back on when it’s time to play. Tits are for the bedroom. Otherwise, they’re too much of a distraction. Instead, he settles on slipping his hand up her skirt to check if she’s wearing panties. (There’s no panty line showing through her pencil skirt and that’s always a bad sign.) She shoos him away.

So Leon leans in for a kiss, and she says, “Nuh-uh, honey, you’ll ruin my makeup.” Then she gives in ‘cause Leon can be kinda cute when he tries hard enough. “Just one, okay?”

“Yeah.” Leon nods. Her kisses are analgesic. Which is unfortunate considering he has an opioid addiction. Almost an addiction.

“One,” she counts, Leon kisses her again, “two, three, four.”

She’s teasing him now.

“Okay, well, keep an eye on her, Leon.”

“I’m not twelve,” you say, exiting the kitchen to spare yourself the sight of him groping your older sister.

Yeah, and Leon’s not a bang nanny.

He wipes the red from his lips, takes his juice box from the table where you’re no longer and decides jerking off in the shower will make him feel better. Leon does. He finishes. Watches his seed wash down the drain and wonders if that was wasteful. A short intermission is taken, then he jerks off in front of her full-body mirror. His biceps flex and his abs tighten, and he looks fucking good.

Why isn’t she cumming? What’s wrong with her? Is she getting too old? Is menopause hitting already? She’s only thirty-something. It can’t be that, and she asked Leon to pick up tampons last week— Unless they were for you.

Nobody in this house tells Leon anything. Another shower is what he needs. No, he needs a smoke. Leon doesn’t smoke. He does the next best thing, rests idly against the railings of her balcony, observing the ballet of D.C. life. Man, he could throw himself over right now. Splat against the asphalt and that would be it. It’d all be over. Hauling his weight over would be no problem. Catastrophizing to pass the time. Men used to do this for a living in Ancient Greece. What happened to philosophising? Leon could be a philosopher, all they did was spout nonsense and he is good at that. Not at fucking, however.

Beer. Yeah. Beer. That’s what he needs. Leon ransacks the fridge to no avail. Health-conscious living is the reason for misery, he believes. See, very insightful, modern-day Socrates right here. Lean proteins, vegan substitutes, low-fat yoghurt— It’s so girly it makes him sick.

“She’s still on a health kick,” you say from behind him, “I thought it was a New Years thing, but she’s still, like, super into it.”

Why are you talking to him? Leon blinks at you owlishly. “Right,” he says.

You give him a funny look, turning back to the counter to use the coffee machine. Don’t you want him? You’re not shy. Why aren’t you shy? Shouldn’t you be shy? Ugly Leon was mute around girls whether they were short, fat, ugly or pretty. Shit, he is clucking for a beer.

“There's Chardonnay under the sink.” Well, that’s unhelpful.

“Yeah, I don’t- I don’t drink that.” He would like to finish his sentence off with ‘girly shit’ but you seem like the type to find that offensive.

“Figured.” The coffee machine whirs. A lobotomised silence ensues. “Good talk.”

You’re so ugly you’re asking for it. Perfect subject for the ‘I can’t make my girlfriend cum, is her pussy broken?’ experiment. Ugly girls don’t count as a fuck, right? Not when they’re sent to the very back of your mind after said fuck. He wonders how many girls counted the uglier him as an official lay.

You’re on your tummy reading a book. The Beautiful and Damned. Leon had no idea they wrote a book about him. The door creaking exposes his creeping against his will.

“Do you need something?” you ask without batting an eye.

The swell of your ass is nice. “Uh, yeah, I do.”

Rolling over and sitting up to face him, you tilt your head to the side. “Go on.”

“I want to have sex with you.” Woah. Okay. That’s a genie he can’t put back in the bottle. Fuck, why does he do this stupid shit? Leon should just kill himself. All roads lead to suicide. Every sign points towards suicide and he is still holding on for dear life.

Think about Sherry. Sherry won’t care, kids hit sixteen and don’t give a fuck about much, he reasons with the voice in his head. How about Claire? Oh, she’ll think good fucking riddance. Redfield? No way. You are truly out of options, Kennedy.

“I’m sorry?”

Oh, god no, Leon’s the one that should be sorry. “You heard me.” The apology comes out incredibly wrong. “I’m helping you out.”

“Helping me out with what? I’m sorry, Leon, I didn’t… I didn’t think I— I don’t know what made you think I wanted this from you, but I don’t like you—“

You don’t like him? Why not? He’d like a list of reasons with a page-long explanation. What’s not to like? The hair. It’s the hair. Blond is too girly. That’s what it is.

“—I mean, you’re with my sister, did you really think I would say yes? I’m sorry, I’m just a little confused, where is this coming from? Gosh, I really… I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m helping you out,” Leon repeats, using his hands to gesture at your face, at your body. “No one else is gonna do it.” This apology has gone way out of bounds. A simple sorry would have sufficed.

“What..?” Something doleful crosses your face, then it twists unpleasantly. “You think I want to have sex with you… ‘cause I’m not cute? Like, you think I’m…”

Ugly, yes. He does. Only a little. Can you turn over? He wants to make you cum. “You’re a virgin, yeah?”

“Oh my god, there’s, like, something wrong with you!” You stand to your full height in a pitiful attempt to appear frightening. That face is enough to scare a man away already. “Get out— And I am so telling her when she gets back home, I told her I didn’t like you, I told her and now you just-“

Leon grabs you by the jaw, squeezes you so tight it clicks. “Okay, sweetheart, here’s how this is going to go,” he starts, taking both your wrists in a single hand, “we’re going to start over, and you’re going to be a good little girl and apologise to me like you really mean it.”

“Apologise for what?” It comes out muffled through your forced pout so he chooses to ignore you.

“I don’t know what you fuckin’ said.” Leon should just end it here, he should let go of you and check into the nearest asylum. He’s hot. Leon is box blond. He’s tall enough to dwarf most girls. His face is nice. His body is nicer. So he doesn’t know what his problem is. Once pinned down, you shrink away from him, expression so sour your skin looks ready to melt off your skull.

And then he fucks you till you stop screaming. He leaves you in a withered heap, heads back to his room to take a well-deserved nap, hides his face in the pillows. They smell like her. He should think about killing himself some more. That gun looks awfully shiny. Nth time could be the charm.

She gets home in the evening, drops her bag on the floor to alert him of her entrance.

“I missed you.” Leon noses at her neck.

“You were sleeping.” She ruffles his hair like he’s a child.

“I still missed you.”

“Even when you’re sleeping?”

In the least creepy way possible, he wants to wear her skin as a suit, and she thinks his body doesn’t yearn for her at every sleeping second?

“The most when I’m sleeping, have bad dreams without you,” Leon mumbles groggily.

“How cute,” she muses, “good day?”

“Great day.” Leon nods. “Real productive.”

“Oh yeah? What’d you get up to?” A singular red nail strokes along his spine.

“Thought about you,” he answers, leaving out the part where he spent half of his time jerking off. Oh, and the part where he fucked her sister into submission. He raped you. He did. Leon doesn’t like that word. Far too harsh.

“Now, don’t push it, mister.” When she smiles there’s a lack of wrinkles— Not even smile lines, it’s artificial almost.

Leon’s good at pushing buttons. He should get paid for it. “It’s true, if you said jump I’d ask how high.”

“You’re so funny, Leon.” She kisses his head and laughs all prim and proper.

“Serious, babe, I’m super partial to jumping,” he says to hear her laugh again. He’s more partial to suicide. It’s great. A one-way ticket off of God’s green inferno. Who would he even be without suicide ideation?

“Alright, but I’d like you all in one piece.” She kisses his cheek. “No jumping, okay, honey?” She kisses his neck and his collarbones and his Adam’s apple and he’s unable to breathe.

“Okay,” Leon says. He gets it now. She’s mommying him. Maybe this is what Leon needs. To play house. A daddy to fuck his throat and a mommy to sit on his dick and tell him that he’s a good boy and he’s needed and he won’t have to think if he has a mommy and daddy to do that for him.

Can he backtrack on the rape thing? Trust Leon to take a good thing and ruin it in the worst way possible. If he kissed you he could’ve wormed his way out of it. Told her it was the medication he’s on, that he had a mental breakdown, a midlife crisis.

At dinner, your silence slips under the radar like cumstains on motel bedsheets. You pick at your food, and when Leon’s knee brushes yours under the table, you excuse yourself. Sometimes he thinks that he is a bad person, this can be backed up by many things. Violating you might outweigh saving the world.

In bed, he thinks about changing, about calling his therapist in the morning, he might take a leap off that balcony, cleaning up his act sounds terribly hard. Leon does this all with his head tucked into the hollow of his girlfriend’s neck. The thinking has killed his boner and now he can’t get it up. So he pretends to fall asleep. It’s an unconvincing performance ‘cause the moment she swipes a hand over his ass he lets out a disgruntled noise. Leon clenches so quickly his stomach caves in.

“You don’t like that, honey?”

He shakes his head, overgrown bangs falling in his eyes. Leon has a nice ass. It’s no wonder she wants to touch it, leg presses have done him wonders, but still, it’s off-limits. She can’t sweet talk her way into this anytime soon.

“Why, Leon?” She’s cupping his ass like he’s a girl. Leon’s not a girl. “You’d look so cute.”

“No,” he whines, and it sounds kind of sexy. He gets it. He can see the appeal.

“I think you just need some encouragement, baby.” She’s taking him apart like a gun. Folding him like laundry. Milks his prostate so well he sleeps like a baby. Not even a shadow of an orgasm to be seen from her side.

She leaves early the next morning and he’s left alone to ruminate. What he finds out today is that you’re pretty diligent at sucking dick when forced.

Leon thinks he would like to break you in a way that only he can fix.

He pushes your head down on his dick till your lips are stretched so far they split at the corners, you gag wetly each time the fat tip knocks the back of your throat, heavy balls slapping against your chin.

“Aww, look at you,” Leon coos, “little girl taking big things.”

Fat tears well in your eyes, a faint tremor betrays your effort to hold them back, a single blink and they roll down your cheeks like dewdrops. It might be the dick lodged in your throat, pulsing under your tongue— Yeah, no, it’s his dick in your mouth. That’s why you're upset. No other reason for it. Leon finds you a little ungrateful. A lot of women would pay for this, to drain his balls. Hell, your sister loves to do it.

“One at a time, sweetheart,” he says as he guides you to his balls, “can’t have you choking, can we?” You look up at him blankly. Leon thought he was funny and that’s all that matters. “Go on, spit on ‘em, get me nice and wet.” The drool pooling beneath your tongue drizzles his balls in clear strings, his drippy tip bumps the bridge of your nose, rests comfy on your brow ridge.

You’re struggling real bad. He’ll take it as a compliment. The thing is, you refuse to just lick them, pulling off each ball with a wet pop! and a dry cough. Leon starts to zone out so he shoves you off and quite pathetically, you fall flat on your back.

“You didn’t shave,” Leon notes in distaste, he was going to do you a favour too.

“No— Not for you.” You squirm like a fish on the docks when he hovers over you.

“Not for me, right.”

“Anyone but you.”

“You're not gonna do it for anyone, sweetheart, know why?” Leon clicks his tongue when you dodge his kiss, twisting your neck to keep a distance.

“Why?”

“No one else wants you,” he states, “you’re lucky that I want you.”

“Well, that’s not true.” You’re stubborn amongst all your other undesirable traits.

Leon scoffs. “What, so you ever had a boyfriend?” He runs his index finger along your slit. Bone dry. Serious? He assumes you’re still sore from yesterday.

“That’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t get mad at me, honey, I’m just helping you out.” Leon spits on your pussy, then on his thick cock for good measure, jerks his shaft and presses a thumb to his tip to guide it into you. Your lips fold inwards around him as he breaches your tiny hole. There’s too much resistance for it to be a smooth sailing journey, and you’re new to cock, cunt pushing him out as your body tenses. “I’m being nice to you, so you should say thank you.”

“Oh, god,” you mutter, brows knit in what might be pain or pleasure.

“Yeah, that’s what you’re calling me now?” The look you give him is priceless, small hands settling on his chest as you push at him weakly. “No, baby, you don’t get to do that.” Leon bottoms out, he rolls his hips forward to grind the head of his dick into your cervix, the fleshly opening moulds to his tip and you cry out. He can never tell if you’re enjoying it.

Leon sticks his fingers in your mouth to coat them in spit, you retch and he rubs figure eights on your clit, only then does your cunt loosen up its hold on him. It’s a quick process, the quicker he rubs you raw, the wetter you get, biting down on your tongue to keep quiet, but low groans slip past your cracked lips.

“Oh, there we go, baby, that’s it,” Leon coos, his cock slicked up by your wet pussy, sliding in and out with ease. His hips snap forward, forcing himself deeper into your messy little pussy, so wet you’re dripping down his balls, wetness stuck to your inner thighs.

“Fuck— I can’t, I can’t do it, ‘s too big,” you whimper, a hand slipping between your bodies to lay on your stomach. What you don’t understand is that he is big, yeah, but your pussy just needs to be broken in. Like a new pair of shoes.

“You’re doing it, baby,” Leon says, ‘cause you are doing it. You’re taking it. Body going rigid with each brutal thrust into your sopping wet hole. Whether you can take it or not isn’t for you to decide anyway. “I’m going to stuff your little pussy full,” he tells you.

“No,” you choke out, scratching at his chest, nails too blunt to do any sort of damage. Thank fuck. His girlfriend would go nuts.

It’s a satisfying victory, he covers your mouth to concentrate all his energy into this creampie, fills you to the brim, seed thick enough to stick to your insides. The original aim of his ‘experiment’ is forgotten, Leon doesn’t care if you cum or cry or pass out on his dick.

“I’m tellin’ her when she comes home.” Your threat is weak. He feared the consequences of yesterday, but you said nothing.

“You’re not telling her, you like me too much,” Leon decides, “I know you do, baby.”

“I don’t like you at all.” Your bottom lip trembles, fists balled up by your sides. The contempt only turns him on.

“No, but I think you know I’m right, don’t you?” No one else wants you, and you know that. Leon knows you know that. He’s the only one that is ever going to fuck you.

“Right about what? You’re a fucking psycho— I could get you locked up, I should get you locked up.”

“You should, so what're you waiting for?” If you did report him, Leon would just kill himself, going to prison sounds like a bore. “I think, sweetheart, that secretly, you really like it when I rape you.”

And your silence proves him right.

That report never comes. Duh. You love his dick. You like being roughed up. You know you’re deserving of it. Jesus Christ, Leon needs to call his shrink. Honestly, being around you is hard. It’s like his guilty conscience has developed a human body, shambling around the apartment in the shape of a malformed ghost girl, reminding him of the shit he’s said and done to you. You’re spinning in his necrosed brain like one of those music box ballerinas.

“Leon, be a doll and do me up,” his girlfriend is facing away from him, the smooth skin of her back and shoulders bared to him.

Leon only hears the ‘do me’ part, kissing the nape of her neck, reaching round to grab at her fat tits. “I love you…”

“I love you too, baby, but what do you think you’re doing?”

Leon makes a motion with his fingers, she sees it in the mirror.

“What is that, sign language?”

“No, I want to finger you.”

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, baby, but it’s not the time for that. I asked you to zip me up, Leon.” He zips her up while wondering how she can be so unaffected by him being so stupid.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” You knock on the door, you keep hiding your face from him today. His girlfriend said it’s ‘cause you have makeup on. Apparently that changes things. It’s sort of cute. Like, are you shy? You should be shy.

“Oh, no one likes cliffhangers, honey,” she says, forcing you to swap out some open-toe sandals for a pair of her heels. “Okay, Leon, I’ve left your dinner in the fridge, yes?”

Yes, mommy. “Yeah, babe.”

“And there’s snacks in the cupboard now, oh, and don’t use the tap water, it tastes strange so I stocked up— Leon, will you stop doing that with your jaw?”

Sorry, mommy. “Sorry, babe.”

“He’s totally fucking gurning,” you inform her in a way that screams playground snitch. He’ll choke you out for that.

“Gurning, what’s that?” His girlfriend asks cluelessly. This bitch is in her early thirties, Leon has no idea why she acts fifty. Whatever, it’s hot, he gets a girl with all the traits of an older lady without the sagging.

“Like, y’know, ‘cause he’s on meds.” What a little shit. Is this you getting back at him? Some petty fucking act of revenge? Getting his medication taken away from him by his health freak girlfriend?

“Medication? I didn’t know about this, Leon.” She looks at him like he’s killed her mother. Or raped her sister. If only she knew.

“Yeah, for my back, my back hurts, babe— Th-That’s why I’m on leave. My back hurts.” What a compelling act. Totally not a dude that’s two minutes away from injecting black tar heroin.

“Who prescribed them, a doctor or a vet?” You cock your head to the side. Fine. You fucking got him.

“Same thing.” Leon shrugs.

She makes him empty the bedside desk of pills. “Leon, good boys don’t do this. We don’t take drugs in this household, let me take them off your hands.”

“They’re- Babe, they’re not drugs, they’re for my back— I hurt my back.” Granted, his back stopped aching a few days back, he’s just taking advantage of the break. Also, he’s not a child.

“Your back, honey, I know it hurts.” She waves him off. “We can fix it, huh? I can book you in for acupuncture or cupping— Oh, what about a chiropractor?”

“Fine,” Leon says, voice cracking, watching in devastation as she takes his pills in a black garbage bag.

“Bye, Leon, see you later, honey.” She blows him a kiss and he catches it. He has to catch it.

“Yeah, bye, Leon!” You wave at him, looking happier than you have in days.

The door opens an hour later and Leon takes his hand out of his pants. You stand in front of him with red eyes and messy makeup. Leon, being the gentleman he is, takes you into his arms and rubs your back to soothe you as he tells you, more than a little cruel, I fucking told you so.

At least now you know that some guys aren’t as nice as Leon. Some men will spit in your face without considering how tight your pussy is, they won’t even think about how good your tits look in that push-up bra. See? That’s what the real world is like.

The bath fills as he bends you over the sofa. You’re prettier from behind, dress hiked up, soaked panties around your ankles. His hand smooths down the front of your stomach to cup your puffy cunt, prodding at your swollen clit. You shaved. Funny. Thought you were going to get a dick that wasn’t his.

Leon kneels, he spreads your ass cheeks to lick into your pussy from behind, tongue lapping up the beads of arousal that dribble down the seam of your cunt like sticky honey. He laps at your hole and you arch your back to push into him, his tongue fucking your pussy so well, sloppy sounds fill his ears.

“Been wanting to do this,” Leon says into your cunt, tongue making its way back up the centrefold of your fat pussy, he blows spit bubbles on your clit and then he nips at it until you cry out, startled by the jolt of pain. His dick kicks in his sweats. You taste good to make up for that face of yours.

You cream in his mouth so sweetly, toes curling against the wooden floor. Leon wipes his mouth on his forearm, then he wraps it around your neck, pulling your body flush to his. In his chest, his heart flutters when you press a delicate kiss to his bicep. He feels it and you can’t unfeel that.

“I’m sorry, Leon,” you get out through shaky moans as he sandwiches his shaft between your chubby pussy lips, bumping the tip into your clit as his hips move back and forth. “I’m sorry… Didn’t know-“

“It’s okay, baby.” He kisses behind your ear. “It’s alright ‘cause you know now, huh?”

“Yeah,” you agree tearfully, tilting your head so it rests on his broad chest, he gives your pout some wet kisses.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, hm, baby?” Leon nudges you with his nose.

Your idea of cleaning up might be far from what Leon’s is. He doesn’t think you were expecting something so extreme. But it’s for thinking you’re worth something— For thinking that anyone else would do as little as touch you. It’s to wash off that pitiful attempt at makeup.

He bends you in half over the tub. Your tits hang low enough to be squashed against the edge painfully as Leon dunks your head into lukewarm water. Holy shit. Tomorrow will be the day he overdoses. Why is he doing this?

A strangled noise passes your lips as he lets up, and you re-emerge, Leon wipes a hand over your face to rid you of the streaky mascara and sticky gloss.

“There we go, sweetheart, nice and clean.” He presses the tip into your leaking cunt, it catches on your hole, and you flail, water spilling over the edge, surface tension broken as it ripples.

Honest to god, Leon hasn’t fucked a pussy tighter than yours, and when he holds you beneath the surface? Man, you might deglove his dick. He works his cock into you, and when he’s balls deep in your sloppy cunt, Leon allows you to lift your head to which you pant and gasp and cough. All the shit a drowning person does when they’re tossed a lifesaver.

Your body sags, hanging limp with only Leon to hold you up as he roughly fucks in and out of your poor hole, heavy balls slapping against your skin.

“I love you, Leon,” you tell him, rubbing at your stinging nose with your fist, pussy tightening when he pinches your throbbing clit.

“Aw, do you, baby? You love me?” Leon laughs, the mean smile on his face hidden in your shoulder, “That’s so cute.” He rocks back and forth, shallow thrusts that are more for him than they are for you, rabbiting his dick into your squelching pussy until his balls pulse and his shaft twitches inside of you. “Real— Real fuckin’ cute,” he grits out as he buries himself to the hilt, shooting his load in your willing little pussy.

“I think so,” you whimper, thighs trembling as the knot in your stomach snaps and you coat his cock in your slick. Hey, his dick isn't a problem then.

Leon thinks about calling his shrink. The bad shit he does won’t fix itself like he wants. “Clean up,” he tells you, looking at the wet ground. The soaked rug. Your face.

“What… Leon, where are you going?” You use your palms to mop the excess water from your face. “Seriously, Leon? I just… I told you that…”

He has things to do - Leon’s going to call his shrink and very promptly throw himself over the balcony when she doesn’t answer his call.

#leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon s kennedy angst #leon s kennedy smut #resident evil x you #resident evil angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

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exhaslo · 5 months

Text

Puzzle Pieces Ch. 6

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5

Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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There was just a small ray of sunshine threatening to poke through your curtains. Wincing at the light, you whimpered as you started to wake up. Fluttering your eyes open, you slowly tried to adjust to the room's lighting. It took you a moment to realize that you weren't in your room, but still in the living room.

"Hm?"

Slowly sitting up, you rubbed your eyes, bobbing your head as you woke up. Feeling something poke against your panties, you looked down and immediately grew flustered. Miguel was sleeping on the couch, which meant that you slept on top of him all night.

Covering your face with your sleeves, you shyly looked down to see what was poking you. A squeak nearly escaped your throat as you quickly got up. Feeling something over your shoulders, you gripped onto Miguel's jacket and proceeded to cover your face with it. Shyly, you glanced towards Miguel's erection,

"Hm...."

You were debating on waking him, but he looked so relaxed. Still holding onto his jacket, you quickly went to get Miguel your pillow and blanket, wanting him to be more comfortable. Once fixing him, you quickly went to wash up and prepare breakfast.

Once washed up, you glanced at yourself in the mirror, trying to cover your flustered cheeks. Miguel actually stayed over the night. The two of you actually kissed. Pressing his jacket towards your lips, you couldn't help but smile.

Putting his jacket on, you giggle towards how big it was on you. It felt nice and cozy. Eddie never let you wear his stuff. Flinching at the thought, you shook the memories away and hurried to the kitchen. Miguel was a big man, he must eat a heavy breakfast. Hopefully, he will like your cooking.

---------

Miguel grunted softly as he slowly started to come to. He winced towards the light, hissing very quietly as he covered his face. With a heavy inhale, Miguel shot up, wondering why he was smelling food. Immediately, he recalled knocking out at your place.

Miguel sighed quietly as he spotted you making breakfast in your small kitchen. A smile against his lips as you wore his jacket. Miguel wasn't going to say anything about the horrid smell of bacon soaking into the jacket. No. He wasn't going to say anything because of how good you looked wearing his clothes.

He licked his lips, remembering how you tasted last night. Moving your blanket off him, Miguel tensed at his large erection. Did you happen to see it? Glancing towards you again, Miguel knew that if he were to masturbate here, it would not be quietly.

"Hm~ Hm~ Bacon and eggs~ Mhm~ Bacon and Eggs," You chuckled, singing quietly to yourself.

"Can I assume bacon and eggs are on the menu?" Miguel asked, watching you jump.

"M-Miguel! M-Morning! H-How...How did you sleep?" You asked him, quickly lowering the heat and hurrying to him. Once you were close enough, Miguel stole a quick kiss,

"Honestly, better than most nights," He told you, watching your cheeks turn bright red, "How did my little bunny sleep?"

"A-Ah...G-Good...S-Sorry if I'm heavy."

"Ha, heavy?" Miguel stroked your cheek, enjoying you nuzzle your head into his palm, "Nothing of the sort."

"Mhm~" You hummed happily, "Um...I have s-some spare bathroom amenities if you want to w-wash up...I...I uh, don't have any clothes for you...if...if you like morning s-showers." You stuttered, playing with his jacket sleeves.

"I'll just wash my face, thank you."

Miguel stole one more kiss from you before heading to the bathroom. He needed to take care of his little problem down there. Miguel let out a heavy sigh as he sat on the toilet seat and grabbed his cock in his hands. Just having you sit on his lap last night was such a turn on.

Miguel grunted lowly as he stroked faster. He couldn't believe what you were doing to him. Normally Miguel would never break like this whenever he fucked a woman. It was always just a quick relief, but you. Oh, you were tormenting him.

"Fuck...(Y/N)..." Miguel groaned, hoping that the running water was loud enough to cover his lewd noises.

"B-Breakfast is r-ready, Miguel!" You called out.

His name rolled off your lips so nicely. All you had to do was cry it out as Miguel stuffed your pussy with his dick. To have you putty in the palm of his hands.

"(Y/N)," Miguel groaned, cumming against his hand.

Taking a moment to catch his breathe, Miguel proceeded to clean up the mess he made. This was what you were doing to him. You were making the biggest and baddest mafia leader cum in your bathroom. You were breaking Miguel down.

---------

"Um...I-I wasn't sure how much you liked to eat...S-So...I hope this is a big enough...portion." You said, placing the plate in front of him, "I-I hope you like it."

Miguel didn't have the heart to tell you that he never truly ate a home cooked meal before. This would be the first in a very long time he had a meal in the comfort of a home. Also, you gave him quite a big portion. Miguel resisted a chuckle at your adorable attempt. You were already doing a good job as his future wife.

"Sit and eat with me." Miguel told you. You nodded, grabbing your small plate and sitting across from him at your small table, "Is that enough to fill you?"

"O-Oh, yes. Y-You know I don't eat much,"

"Hm," Miguel kept eye contact with you before you both started to eat, "You look good in my jacket. Keep it."

"O-OH! S-Sorry! I-It was just...so cozy...A-Are you sure?"

"That jacket will just be the first of many clothes of mine you'll wear," Miguel muttered lowly, watching you smile into the jacket sleeves, "Yes, amor (love)."

"Oh, um, I-I've been m-meaning to ask. W-What does...amor mean? A-And that other w-word you c-call me sometimes...con...conjeta?" You did your best to repeat. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"They're just my little nicknames for you. Nothing bad," He hummed, taking a bite of his food, "You're good at cooking."

"Oh, um...T-Thank you." You nibbled on your toast, glancing towards Miguel, "Um, about last night...W-Why were you asking me all of that stuff about...the mafia?"

Miguel avoided your gaze, knowing that he would cave. He had decided to hold off on telling you about that part of his life. Miguel wanted to take care of you first. He wanted to make sure that you were willing to stay with him no matter what.

"Yesterday at Central Park. It was a mafia attack, I wanted to make sure that you were okay. This city if filled with different mafia gangs. I'm sure you weren't aware of that when you arrived in this city."

"Oh...no...."

"I had a feeling." Miguel stood from his seat, taking his empty plate to the sink. You quickly followed, taking the plate from him, "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Hm? Oh, um...T-This will be my...first Halloween here...S-So I'm not sure," You admitted while doing the dishes.

Miguel stood behind you, watching you hesitantly roll your sleeves up. He furrowed his brows, seeing small cuts on your wrists. Inhaling deeply, Miguel looked away immediately. As much as he wanted to be angry, something else was boiling inside Miguel instead.

"I'll pick you up after work tomorrow. It's too dangerous to be alone here." His voice got lower as he started to walk towards the door.

You gasped, quickly finishing up and drying your hands. Rushing towards Miguel as he approached the door, you gripped his shirt slightly. Miguel slowly turned towards you, pity in his eyes. You frowned at the sight before hugging him,

"E-Even though...we got interrupted...I-I was really h-happy with our date y-yesterday!"

Miguel hung his shoulders before turning around to engulf you in his embrace. He lifted your chin slightly, giving you another deep kiss. He resisted a smile as he felt you go on your tippy toes to try and gain from height on him. You were too cute.

"Until tomorrow, mi amor (my love)."

"Mhpm~"

----------

The crimson sunset coated the city beautifully. It looked even better with a glass of vodka in Miguel's hand as he sat on the roof of his penthouse. A cold breeze blowing against his hair, distracting Miguel of all his frustrations.

After leaving your place, Miguel couldn't get the image of those scars out of his mind. Not even Alchemax nor his mafia business could erase those vivid images.

"(Y/N)," Miguel whispered your name ever so gently.

Someone as innocent as you should have never thought of such a thing. This emotion Miguel was feeling was sorrow. Never had he'd encounter such a thing close hand. Miguel found it strange. He could easily kill someone or stand before a dead body...

But the thought of you being one of them?

Sipping his liquor, Miguel kept repeating the image of you rolling your sleeves hesitantly. Something that you desperately wanted to hide. You were scared. Miguel didn't want you to be scared. He wanted to understand.

And the kill the fucker who hurt you.

"Lyla, I have a mission. I need that brat Miles on this case." Miguel spat as he took out his phone.

'Sure thing boss. Where shall I send him?'

"(Y/N)'s hometown. I need to know who her ex was and what exactly happened between those two."

"Ohhhhh~ You're serious about her~" Lyla giggled over the phone, "Does this mean I can finally kick out all those greedy sluts who keep knocking at the office?"

"I thought I already told you to do that?" Miguel shook his head slightly, "Actually, do whatever. I just need that information."

"Yes sir,"

Hanging up on his assistant, Miguel let out a heavy sigh. The stress of everything was getting to him, plus the holidays were around the corner. Miguel needed to relieve his stress, but he was waiting for you. He refused to see any other women if he was going to make you his wife.

"(Y/N),"

----------

You hummed quietly as you worked on another puzzle. The thought of yesterday still lingering in your mind. Miguel's treatment towards you and the kiss. He was such a great boyfriend. You were just worried if you were being a good girlfriend.

That was always your worry.

Clenching the puzzle piece in your hand, you tried to calm down and forget the past. Nothing you ever did was good enough. You were never a good girlfriend. Shaking as tears rolled down your cheeks, you rushed into your bedroom and engulfed yourself in Miguel's jacket.

The warmth, the coziness and most of all, his scent was still there. Wrapping yourself in his jacket started to calm you down. Slowly returning to your puzzle with Miguel's jacket on, you tried to go back to your mental safe space.

Miguel wouldn't be this nice to you if you weren't being a good girlfriend, right? Looking at your bookshelf full of puzzles, you wondered if Miguel would like to do one with you? Perhaps tomorrow, you could bring one along with your cookies you forgot to give him.

"Maybe...I should ask him?" You muttered, looking for your phone.

Once found, you first texted Miguel asking if it was okay to call him. You didn't want to be a burden after all. Within a second, Miguel was the one to call you.

"H-Hey!"

"Are you alright?" Miguel asked. You smiled into your sleeve,

"Y-Yeah, I just wanted to ask you...what we were doing tomorrow night? If...If it's alright...for me....to bring something."

"Oh, I should have explained better, sorry mi amor. The city is pretty dangerous on Halloween. I want you to stay over at my place so I can keep you safe. Bring whatever you need to feel comfortable."

"S-So a puzzle?!" You chirped, not even registering the part where you were staying over at his place.

Miguel chuckled over the phone, "As many puzzles as you want." He hummed.

You cheered quietly, "I can't w-wait! Goodnight, Miguel~"

"Goodnight, (Y/N)"

Once you hung up, you quickly went to your wall of puzzles, wondering which one Miguel would like. After deciding on a few, you finally registered what Miguel said. Your face turned bright red as you dropped the box on the floor,

"I-I'm s-staying over....at....at M-Miguel's?!"

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next chapter

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things

#miguel o'hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel x y/n

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randoimago · 1 month

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Hello again! Could I ask for bg3 Karlach, Gale, Dammon (if he's one of the npcs you write for), and Shadowheart's reactions to their s/o flopping onto them in a silent demand for snuggles?

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Character(s): Dammon, Gale, Karlach, Shadowheart

Note(s): I'm assuming this is after Karlach's engine is "fixed" since she would so confused and horrified if her S/O laid on her for cuddles and then burst into flame.

I also don't know if I've written for Dammon before, but I'm very happy to include him in my headcanons 🥰

Dammon

Very time and place for cuddling with Dammon. He likes to cuddle with you, it's a nice way to relax and wind down from work.

Dammon would chuckle and kiss your forehead before wrapping an arm around you to hold you close. If he is busy with something else then he'll give you permission to hug him from behind so long as you behave.

But please don't fall on him when he's working the forge, he does not want you to get burnt from any of the very hot materials he works with. Even if you have some kind of fire resistance, he still would be devastated if you ended up hurt.

Gale

"Well hello to you too." Is one phrase he'd say with a grin on his face when you flop on him. If he's reading a book and you decide to lay against him then he's quick to start telling you all about what he's reading while you cuddle with him.

Seriously is one to spill all about what new interest he has or some cool discovery he's made while cuddling. Doesn't even mind if you fall asleep or don't know what he's talking about, he's very happy to talk.

While he likes to talk about his interests, he does make sure to ask about your day, what you've been up to, things like that as he lightly rubs your back or makes some minor illusion / dancing light show for you.

Karlach

Nothing needs to be said. You flop on her, she's pulling you into a tight (but not too tight) hug. Depending on where you're at, she throws you over her shoulder and just carries you around with her.

Karlach would never say no to cuddles. Even if she's upset. She's had enough space from others that you flopping on her is permission for her to wrap her arms around you. Might pepper your face in kisses, depends how she's feeling.

On the occasions when she has to leave camp to travel and do boring stuff while you stay behind then she'll hand you Clive, telling him that he better give you the cuddles you deserve until she comes back.

Shadowheart

Also time and place when it comes to flopping on Shadowheart. Just because she might be focused and trying to do something, or figure out what's going on with her goddess. Having you flop on her when she's concentrating makes her pout and give you the silent treatment.

She does enjoy giving you hugs and affection when she isn't preoccupied. Will pull you into her tent and just lay down and cuddle with you as long as you're both able to.

There's quite a bit of teasing and being playful when you're cuddling with Shadowheart too. You flopped on her for attention so she's giving it to you, her giggles carrying through the air as she pokes your cheeks or sides to get you to pout at her.

Taglist:

@reo-the-leo @unhelpfulnpc

#Anonymous #bg3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #shadowheart x reader #gale dekarios x reader #gale x reader #dammon x reader #bg3 dammon x reader

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starry-bi-sky · 9 months

Text

Part two of the "Clone Danny" au

The link to the first part is put above!

His friends know that he's phantom, they help him out just the same as before. Due to not having any ghost powers, Danny has to rely on tech and outsmarting the ghosts a lot more than before. He can't keep stealing tech from his parents' lab either, and he can't ask them to fix it if his stuff breaks. He teaches himself how to fix it.

(Its a lot of sleepless nights stealing his parents' blueprints and trying to study them. And a lot of late night research and talking with Tucker on how to build and understand tech. He refuses to rely on Tucker for his gear)

He talks to Sam about fashioning a persona as both Phantom and as Fenton. She's been to a lot of rich parties, she's seen celebrities and how they act. A "careless party boy" won't work for Danny. He's no A-Lister. But coward, feeble Fenton works just fine. Minus his smartass comments, which he can slowly start phasing out of his "civilian" life under the guise of there being ghosts.

He draws into himself, keeps his head down in class, wears baggy clothing. Ghost fighting at night really does a lot of the work for him, since he's so tired in class that he doesn't bother putting his hand up or participating. He can play the part of "loner, loser Fenton" pretty well, and ups the ante.

Phantom already has a small fanbase amongst the A-listers for being the strong, silent confident vigilante-hunter protecting them from the ghosts. Nothing much changes there other than a few minor things. Anyone who knows ASL knows he's a major fucking smart-ass who keeps cracking jokes and puns at the ghosts.

Danny learns self-defense after getting his ass beat too many times (he also gets Really Good at gym because he runs a LOT after ghosts. He eventually learns to make trackers to stick onto them when they fly away) and even gets a few ghosts to help him after he befriends them while they're exploring Amity at night. Its nothing professional and he still gets hurt a lot, but he knows how to throw a better punch than before. And he knows how to dodge better.

Since he's going for a "get them tfo of here before my parents get here" approach, danny takes a more of a "talk first, fight later" route. this... kinda works. mainly for the non-hostile ghosts. its how he manages to get some of them to help him with fighting.

Danny's honestly really, really clever. He largely relies on his wits since he doesn't have any powers to force ghosts back into the ghost zone.

TUE still happens it just occurs a little differently. Vlad Masters still wants Danny to be his son and Maddie his wife, etc. But he also wants to turn Danny into a Halfa like himself, since he knows that Danny has mild ghost abilities, he thinks he has the capacity to turn into a halfa.

Dan happens when Vlad manipulates a grieving danny into agreeing to become a halfa like himself. Except it kills Danny fully, and in his rage, Danny, now dead and a ghost, rips out Vlad's ghost half and merges with it and creates Dan. So not too different from canon.

….actually i change my mind. Danny’s ghost doesn’t merge with Vlad. Danny’s ghost tears Plasmius apart for lying to him. Dan is entirely Danny, just big and hurting and wanting to hurt others because of it. His emotions are big so Dan is big.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

#danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp x dc #dpxdc au #dpxdc crossover #danny phantom crossover #danny fenton is a clone #this is so long my bad #i have so much to say on this au lmapo #long haired danny lives in my soul #sam paints his nails #he's just a little GNC #as a treat #im always one for villains being evil just because #but i thought that Dan being wholly Danny. just big and in pain #would be fun #and different

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non-stop-imagines · 9 months

Text

Repeat That

From this request!💖

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Word Count: ~8.1k words w/ smau

Warning: Smut (slight fingering, thigh riding, p in v), a little oral fixation, Soft!Dom and protective Max, reader going into a subspace, Max punches a guy, my American description of driving, mean comments, Twitter Environment, mention of food it's also pretty cute 😘 Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: I knew I had big plans for this fic but I didn't expect this big. I absolutely loved this request when I got it and I wanted to put as much care into writing it as they did coming up with the idea. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy, because as always I enjoyed writing it! Love you all!💖💛💖💛💖

Masterlist

maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris and 301,872 others

maxverstappen1 Mine ❤️

babygurlyn tagged

View 3,910 comments

rbrhypetrain This was not on my 2023 bingo card, but I can use the free space ✍🏼

babygurlyn I don't even have this many good pictures of me. How???

>maxverstappen1 When your girlfriend is as beautiful as you are, you get a lot of opportunities to get good pictures

landonorris I would like everyone to know that Max posted this 3 months into dating Yn. He means business

babygurlyn

Liked by redbullracing and 90,274 others

babygurlyn Because he posted me and I think he's pretty too 😍🥰😘 No one tell about me posting the last pic 🤫

view 429 comments

redbullracing We think he's pretty too ❤️😗

>seb4ev I think Max better watch out for the Red Bull admin, I just can't figure out who they're trying to flirt with most of the time

maxverstappen1 😐 > babygurlyn Who told?!

mercgirly Okay but I think Yn is the only person that has pictures of Max that make him look really pretty and like good for her

hateruser I doubt Max actually likes how Yn acts It's just so immature

Max has grown fond of non-race weeks since he started dating you. Your mindset was that "Weekends are for having fun, not working", something that you would pout about early in your relationship whenever he would go train or agree to meetings on non-race weekends. But now, with two weekends off, he's using one to stay at home, currently driving on his sim but the true purpose of his presence was to be at your beck and call. To be there for you to talk endlessly too, to help you with stuff, to be filmed for your YouTube channel, anything. And he was happy to be there to do it.

"Maxie, are we ordering food for lunch or were we planning to go out for it?" You pop your head into the room, doe-like eyes darting between him and the screen facing him.

"We have plenty of food here, my love." He continues the session he was in but pauses it when he doesn't hear your socked feet shuffling away and the faintest whimper come from the open door. "Yeessss…?" He turns his body to get up from his seat and walk over to the door leaning against the frame. You move your body from leaning over to only have your head in view to standing straight up, shyly peering up at him, to which he pushes some locs from in front of your shoulders then tips your head up with a finger. "What is it"

"It's just, there's a cafe that's doing this special latte art to celebrate the 100 year anniversary of the creation of Disney, 'cause they have this food printer or something that is able to do it and I was hoping we'd be able to go there today." Your rambling was accompanied by wild hand movements that supplemented your words, a trait you've subconsciously picked up from your boyfriend, and as you neared the end your voice tapered off, unsure of what the response would be from Max.

"Well why didn't you just say so, love?" His voice was a soft, exasperated coo as he reaches to fix your hair again and then uses a hand on either side of your face to make you look at him. All you do is shrug in response, knowing of the short lecture you were about to get. "Baby, first of all, I'm not mad. But didn't we talk about you speaking up more about what you want?"

"I just didn't think it was that important." You tug at the hem of his shirt. Even with his hands angling your face up towards his, you avoided eye contact.

"We talked about this…" He bends down to catch your lips in a quick kiss, then opens his eyes a little wider waiting for you to comment.

"Everything I say has at least some importance…" You receive another kiss and then feel Max's hands move to your waist, gingerly pulling you closer.

"Good. Now, try again." He gives you a little grin to encourage you.

"Hey, I was thinking we could go to this cafe that is doing Disney themed latte art. It looks pretty cool." Your voice fluctuated as you tried to sound more confident in your request, trying to act nonchalant in the process.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Let me know when you want to leave.” He gives you one last kiss on the forehead and starts to head back to his game.

“Okay! I’ll let you know. Thank you, baby!” Your mood turns on a dime as you skip off to some other room, a shift which Max just shakes his head at as he restarts the session. About 10 minutes later, Max can hear you mumbling to yourself, sounding like you were straining to grab something, so he stands from his seat again and starts to search for your location, eventually finding you standing on a side table trying to reach your mini tripod that was on the highest shelf of your bookshelf in your office. “Dang it. Get over here. Woah.” You wobble on the table that you forgot was already uneven prompting Max to rush over and steady you.

“Get off the table, please. What do you need? Your tripod?” He stretches up to reach where it is, which was slightly pushed back from the edge of the shelf.

“Yes, please.” You beam up at him as he hands it to you, and once he does your focus goes to the small camera stand, flexing the legs to make it easier to hold, but Max interrupts your focus by lifting your chin to give you a small lingering kiss, forcing you to look into his eyes once he backs up.

“Please never do that again. Just ask if you need help with stuff like that, okay.” His face was softly stern, lifting his eyebrows for emphasis as he spoke. He keeps the same face as he waits for your answer.

“I know, I know. I will, but you know I just start doing something and completely forget about everything else and it makes me forget to ask for help when I need it…" Your words taper off as you go to place the tripod on your desk, but you turn around to Max crossing his arm, eyebrows scrunched in mock concern.

"Yes, I know that. But you need to try and remember to ask for help, I'm always here for you." Max's gaze followed you as you approached him, first taking his crossed arms to turn him toward the door and then moving behind him to start pushing him out. Both you and him knew that if he were really trying you wouldn't be able to move him an inch, but here you were guiding him through the exit of your office.

"Okay, thank you. Now go." You continue to push but feel resistance all of a sudden. You peek your head around to look at Max who was smiling at you. "What?"

"Do I get to be in your vlog?" You roll your eyes at your boyfriend's question, then get back behind him to push again, moving once more.

"You know you're always in my vlogs. Now go. I'll be there in a sec." You finally succeed in getting him across the threshold of your office then turn back around and head back to your desk, starting to fiddle with your small vlogging camera.

“Okay.” Max does as he is told and heads back to his gaming room, sitting down in his seat and putting his headphones, and, after stopping to answer a text or two, starts playing again. After another 20 minutes he hears the patter of your feet, but continues his game waiting to hear your voice.

“Can I come in?” You ask your question while slowly shuffling in. What you don't see fully is how bright and wide Max’s smile is as he feels your presence grow closer.

“Of course you can, baby girl.” He finally ends the session and turns off the game, knowing he probably won’t be able to come back to it for the rest of the day. He removes his feet from the pedals in front of him to place his feet flat on the floor, turning his head to look straight into the small camera you pointed at him.

“Say hi to the people, Max. They love you, you’re their favorite.” You giggle, primarily at the way he waves and then flashes a semi-awkward thumbs up.

“Hello! Now you, what’s up?” He shifts his focus to you, face attentive as he pulls you into his lap by a large hand on your waist.

“So you know how I asked you about going to that cafe today?” You had the camera pointed at you two, viewfinder flipped up so you could make sure you guys were in frame, and once you did you turned to look at Max who only had his attention on you, watching his nod and loving the vibration when he hums his affirmation, pushing a loc out of your face. “Well I was thinking that we could couple the experience with something fun.” You wiggle your eyebrows, first at Max and then briefly at the camera before turning back to him.

“I don’t like that look. What did you have in mind?” Max keeps his eyes trained on you, watching and internally smiling at the charisma you were giving the camera, not like it was much different than your normal personality, if anything a bit toned down.

"Well I thought that maybe you could teach me how to drive? Or at least start teaching me how to drive. And then we could go to the cafe since we were out." You use a free hand to comb back his hair with your fingers, and something the camera is able to see is the slight head tilt upward he does to move closer to your hand and the side profile of the soft look he was giving you.

"Oh yeah, I always forget you don't have your license. I'm so used to just driving you around." He thinks for a moment, still only looking at you, watching as your enlarged brown eyes anticipated his answer. "Fine, I guess we could do that." He smiles back at the radiant smile you gave him and the quick kiss on the cheek you give before you remove yourself from his lap.

"Yay! Thank you baby!" You start to skip toward the door but you didn't realize that Max had snuck his hand around your wrist to pull you back to him.

"How were you going to leave me without a proper kiss?" He had his eyebrows raised in mock surprise, to which you roll your eyes and stalk back over to him, leaning down a bit to kiss him. It was a couple of deeper kisses, making sure your lips slated together rather than just a small peck. What you also noticed was that Max had angled the camera toward you two, making sure footage was captured of the kissing.

"You're so needy, ugh." You fake your complaint as you stop your recording and leave the room, not seeing the soft, loving look he was giving you as you walked out the door.

________

"Okay, here we are in the car on the most empty floor of the parking garage that we could find. And here's Professor Verstappen, ready to teach me all there is to learn about the rules of the road. Take it away, Max!" You finish your spritely intro to this portion of your vlog by highlighting Max's presence with your hands, waving them towards him and then finally looking toward him for instruction. He was too busy watching you, though, so it took him a beat to realize that it was his time to talk.

"Oh, okay. Uh, hello everyone. First, have you ever been behind the wheel before?" His arm was already resting behind him on top of his seat, so he was already in reach of a loc that you kept of your ponytail, deciding to mess with it while you gave your answer, giving his hands something to do.

"Well, I've never paid attention to all the stuff. Really just messed with the wheel." You twist the wheel, then look back at Max, the camera now just a spectator of the interaction between you two.

"Okay." He grins at you, eyes wandering over your innocent face before continuing. "Uh, let's start with the pedals. Touch them with your feet." He stretches his body to watch as you do. "So the wide one on the left is the brake and the narrow, long one is the gas." You nod, still playing with the pedals. "Mirrors, check them every time you get in." He reaches up and taps the long mirror in front of you guys. "This is the rearview mirror, make sure you can see out the rear windshield when you adjust it, okay?" You start adjusting as he continues explaining. "The side mirrors, uh, you want to make sure that you're able to see your blind spot and beside you. The controls to adjust it side mirrors are in the door. You just make sure you have the correct mirror selected and then use the up, down, left and right buttons to adjust the mirror.” You look at the side mirror but decide not to do anything about them. "Um, the gearshift. You have to press on the brake to be able to be able to press the button on the gear shift to move it." He was going to continue his informational dialogue, but he could hear you press down on the brake pedal. "Don't do it now! Hold on." He subtly motions for you to stop, his hand in your vicinity as he chuckles, his vibe a mixture of nervousness and adoration.

"Hehe, sorry." You had a toothy smile on your face, an indication to Max that you are already starting to get nervous and his words would need to be more gentle with his teaching.

"It's okay." He leans over to kiss your forehead before continuing. "Anyway, the letters on the gearshift-"

"Yes, the PRNDL…." You said the joke with such confidence, but you and Max stifled your laughter, staring at each other, you with that bright toothy smile and Max with a strained grin and facial expression of fake disappointment.

"Really?" The laughter he held was laced in his words. "You're adorable, you know that?" You nod with your bright smile, giving Max slight trouble when he starts leaning in to get a quick kiss, but you quickly get the hint, letting him kiss you as you nodded your head with less vigor.

"Hehe, yeah, I know." Your faces were still close, allowing you two to have a small moment of intimacy before finally getting back to the task at hand.

"Um, anyway. Yes the gearshi- the PRNDL, since I know you'll repeat it until I say it, those letters all stand for something. Do you know what they are?" He cocks his head slightly, making it more obvious that he is just making sure you know.

"Park, reverse, uh-neutral, drive, and I always forget what L stands for." You recite the meanings as you go down the panel, then look back up expectantly at Max waiting for confirmation that you were right.

"Correct. Good job, baby. And we're not going to worry about L until we have to." He pushes that lone loc again and admires your face as he thinks. "Okay, try just going forward. To that column." He points to a concrete column about 50 feet away, and he keeps his attention ahead of you guys as you put the car in drive.

"Okay, check mirrors, foot is on the brake right now, car in drive…" you mumble a checklist to yourself, double check everything you just listed, and then finally lift your foot off the brake and slowly, lightly press on the gas, allowing the car to finally move. Initially all was fine, it wasn't until 3 seconds later when Max felt the car gently swerving that he looked at you, seeing you twist the wheel back and forth as you tried to go forward.

"Woah, woah! Stop!" You immediately follow directions, slamming on the brake making both of your bodies jolt forward. You start to laugh nervously as you slowly turn to look at Max, who was looking at you wide eyed. "What the fuck was that, baby? You're not trying to warm the tires."

"I-that's what people do in the movies…and i- I don't know." An apologetic, nervous smile stays plastered on your face, a face Max knew well because it meant that you were really unsure of the situation and liable to shut down at any minute.

"That's just bad acting. But it's okay, you're okay. Just think of it as keeping the car steady instead of trying to guide it." He uses his hand to imitate a swerving driving path and then turns back to you. "You want to try again?" His gaze was intensely trained on you as he tried to gauge your anxiety before you answered.

"Mhm." The smile was now gone, your face was flat and eyebrows furrowed as you checked your mirrors again and then lifted your foot from the brake to gently press the gas again. This time there was a lot more focus on your part as you gently twisted the steering wheel as necessary to keep it in line until you got to the column.

“Okay, now put it in park.” With your foot firmly on the brake, you hold down the button on the gearshift and push it to put the car in park. Once it was done and you were sure the car was stationary. You lift your foot and jerk your head toward Max to shine a, now more confident, smile his way, that he reciprocates in his own Max way with a grin and wide eyes. “You did it!”

“I did it!” You reach your arms out and wrap them around Max’s neck, and the close proximity brought your cheek in range to receive a peck from him.

“How did you feel?” You still had your arms around his neck, but he was able to lean back enough to get your entire face in view.

“Better, but I know it's not that easy on the road so that's a little scary.” Max starts to open his mouth to calm your worries, but your next words change his planned soothing into reprimand as you continue. “And I know it’s stupid to be scared. Many people drive everyday without being scared, but I tin- '' Your words fade when your cheeks are grasped by Max’s long fingers and squished gently.

“Shh.” Max’s attempted cooing comes off more like a frantic mitigation of your downward spiral, like trying to stop a child from crying right as they’re on the cusp of bursting out in tears. He gives a small kiss to your manually puckered lips then lets go, gently lifting the locs you had back in a ponytail. “You’re not stupid. People get scared about driving, it’s normal. You just need to practice to gain confidence, that’s all. Okay?” Your lips were still pouted, but you looked at him through your eyelashes, eyes asking for a little more reassurance, which he gives by seizing your lips in another kiss.

"Okay." You press your lips together in a mild grin then settle back into your seat, tracing the steering wheel with your fingers.

"Want to try reversing and a little parking? And then I'll drive us to that cafe?" He laces his fingers with yours that had settled on the gearshift, running a thumb over the back of your hand.

"Yeah, let's do it! Really earn that latte." In your usual fashion, your demeanor changed on a dime to hyper enthusiasm, unlacing your hand from Max's and placing both hands firmly on the wheel.

"You earned that before we even got in the car." He stretches his arm across the back of your seat, placing a sentimental gaze on you. You turn toward him in a way that required you to lean your head back slightly, and flash that big beautiful smile he adores. "I love you." His head jerks toward you a little, waiting for your answer.

"I love you, too." You pucker after your words, receiving the kiss Max was craving to give you. It was simple, but it was lingering. He has always loved your lips, so his heart squeezed when they turned up into a grin for him as you got amped to continue driving. "Alright, let's get on with it!"

"Alright." He takes another second to watch you, his cute, bouncy, determined and all around amazing girlfriend, before continuing his instruction.

___________

"The fact that the latte was amazing AND had The Little Mermaid art on top makes my driving struggles worthwhile." You skip out of the cafe door that Max held open for you, thanking the employees as you leave, camera trained on your face.

"It was good?" Max also waved a polite, silent goodbye as you two walked back to the car that was parked in a spot along a surprisingly empty road.

"Yeah! It was a sea salt caramel latte and it didn't have too much coffee flavor but I can still feel a buzz." You grab onto his hand and swing it wildly, turning under his arm like you were tangoing as you waited for the signal to walk across the street. For it to be a Saturday, the roadway that had picturesque little shops along the side was almost clear, sans a few straggling teens and some cars driving by.

"That's the last thing you need. I don't know why you insist on getting drinks with coffee anyway if you don't like the taste of coffee." The signal finally changed and you and Max crossed the street, vlog camera still recording, but just getting a lower angle shot of you two walking.

"You can have so much fun with the flavors of coffee drinks. And you know energy drinks are hit and miss with me." You lift your camera once across, you gauging the short distance to the car before talking, speaking through your teeth in a mock wince. "Sorry, Red Bull." You stop the recording and turn off your camera now just wanting to take in your surroundings hand in hand with your boyfriend.

"Yeah, I know." He feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, which he pulls out to see he received a text from Lando.

Lando

Do you and Yn want to come hang tonight?

Me and some friends decided to just go out tonight

Don't know who all is coming yet tho

What do you say?

And tell Yn I said hello and that I love her more than you do 😁

"Why does he text like this? All these messages…" Max removes his hand from yours but sticks out his elbow so you're able to wrap your arm around his. You guys stop walking for a moment, since you were basically at the car, while Max goes to answer whatever question is hidden in his myriad texts. "Would you want to go out tonight with Lando?" He looked down to his side for your response, which was almost immediate excitement.

"Yes! Let's go out! I love hanging out with Lando." You sway with Max's arm in tow as he types out his response.

Max

Okay, we'll come.

"Okay, we'll go. Now please, I need this arm." His plea held fake exhaustion, causing you to laugh a laugh that was music to his ears. As you guys finally approached the car, you could hear people down the sidewalk calling to get your guys' attention.

"Oh my God, it is him!" Two young men both looking around 25 approached you two with excitement in their demeanor. "Max, we love you, mate. That Red Bull has been crazy dominant!"

Max could feel you trying to move behind him a bit, but for you this was just because you knew these guys were here to see Max so you didn't want to get in the way. For Max the rudeness due to their lack of acknowledgement to your presence was strike 1. "Thanks, you guys. But listen, we have to get going-"

"Hey do you think we could get a picture with you real quick?" When the phone started to be handed to you, Max was ready to snatch your hand up and leave immediately, but seeing you reach for it, okay and eager to take a picture of the boyfriend she is immensely proud of and his fans, he simmered down, enough to take a decent picture with the two men before they excitedly walked off after thanking you.

"They were kinda nice." Max walks you to the passenger side of the car, opening the door for you, grunting in faux agreement. "I don't think they knew who I was, though." Your words came out as a giggle because you were truly amused with the situation, but Max just closed the door, gently and hiding his stone face as he does.

"If they did they would have acted like fucking saints." Max mumbles to himself, walking around to the driver's side. He pauses, taking a deep breath and actively working to relax his face, knowing the scowl would affect your mood too, and realizing a new annoyance that has emerged for him. There are people out there who think that you are something less than the best thing to have come into his life.

babygurlyn

Liked by lilymhe and 96,920 others

babygurlyn NEW VLOG ALERT!!! Please enjoy my favorite screenshots I got while editing 😁😁😁

View 2,297 comments

landonorris you don't want to know what happens when Yn has vodka

>mercfantasies What happens when she has vodka????

>babygurlyn No one will know what happens when Yn has vodak 😐😐😐

> landonorris The walls have ears 👀

maxandynfan Max in your new vid 😭😭 you could've warmed us about how sweet he was

> babygurlyn I told you guys Max is nothing but a big softy 🥰 (And don't listen to him when he says he's not)

__________

You made sure you had your items, small purse on your arm, large pink chunky-knit sweater over your arm, a pink that matched the mid rise Nike Court Royales that you wore with a black tennis skirt and white blouse, phone locked in both hands as you bent under the rope in the garage separating visitors from the rest of the garage. You knew that it would have been more comfortable and easier watching from the Paddock Club area or the motorhome, but Max insisted you stay in the garage, and you didn't mind because you liked being this close to the action, and it was easier to get to parc ferme and the podium by just by exiting the garage. So you found yourself walking out of the garage, hugging people and cheering along as everyone celebrates another win for Max. No matter what anyone says, for you every win is so exciting because you know the work he has put in to achieve this. The top three cars park and you are able to reach and hug Max, making a face at him to joke about how he stunk from his sweat and then shooing him off for the post-race interview, and as you did you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around to see a young guy and girl. The girl had her phone in her hand and the guy a small microphone, the ones that can clip onto the shirt.

"Hi, I'm Jackson and this is my girlfriend, Catherine. Do you have time to do a quick interview with us?" The guy, Jackson, asked you close to your ear, to which you nod in agreement. You and Max have been dating just over a year, and you can count the number of people that have approached you to speak to you on one hand, maybe two if you added exceptions.

"I would love to do an interview, Jackson." You were able to answer without having to yell in his ear, since the cheering has died down as third place is interviewed.

"Please, you can call me Jack." He points to Catherine and gives her a thumbs up, which you assumed was to signal for her to start recording, because after counting down to 1, Jackson begins to introduce himself and you, to which you give a spritely wave to the phone that Catherine was smiling behind. "So, Yn, you have been with Max for almost 2 seasons, seen so many of his wins, have you gotten used to them now?" Jack's eyes shifted between you and the phone as he spoke, and once he was done he brought the small microphone closer to you.

"Oh, no. Every race is different. Even if it is the same race during a new season, the conditions are different, and I see the work Max puts in first hand, so I am always very proud of him with every win." You smile toward Jack and then the camera.

"You know, with what can be seen as a severe lack of action due to Red Bull dominance, people have turned their focus to other news in the F1 sphere, one of which being the relationship between you and Max." Though more comment than question, the small mic is gestured toward you for input.

"Oh, well, I'm flattered. I hope it's mostly good things." You could feel a shift in the tone of the interview, which was confirmed by the confused look being given by Catherine from behind the recording phone.

"There has been good stuff, yes, but the most discussion and discourse has been over how different you two seem to be from each other." Again the microphone is thrusted toward you.

"I-well, yeah, we're different from each other, but I think that helps us. We get to learn from each other." Your smile has officially started to fade as Jack continues to speak.

"Not just the differences between you and Max, but the difference between you and his previous girlfriends." Your eyebrows were officially furrowed, confused by the implication.

"I don't think I know what you mean." The further you got into this interview the more the outside world began to be shut out, so of course you didn't feel Max's eyes trained on you, post interview and supposed to be headed to the cool down room, but instead he watched.

"People just don't understand how he could go from dating high class models and daughters of previous racers to you. You're so different from his previous girlfriends, what do you think it is about you that drew him in?" Your head tilted, really trying to figure out the point of the question, face softening into disappointment as you slowly start to realize the micro aggression in the comment.

"Well, I-i don't-um-" You jump at the feeling of an arm wrapping around your waist, giving Max a sad smile when you look in the direction of the arm.

"What's going on here?" Max uses his grip on your waist to pull you behind him, and switches to holding your hand.

"Max! Great race-" Jack goes to clap Max on the shoulder, be Max leans away, anger still consuming him.

"No, don't change the subject. What is going on? Why does it look like my girlfriend is about to cry?" Max relaxed the hand that held yours so you could mess with his hand, but still had a scowl on his face.

"I was just seeing what she had to say about-um-ha. You know what it's-" Jackson was starting to bail, motioning to Catherine to stop recording, which she does but she stays put, face enraged as she watches her boyfriend make a stupid decision.

"No, don't leave. Whatever you were talking to my girlfriend about you can talk to me about cause you were obviously upsetting her." You still held on to Max's hand, but the insinuation made during your conversation was already clicking, and you didn't like what you heard.

"Fine! She just acts so childish and ditzy! No one understands why you're with her!" With that final declaration, everyone within earshot and paying attention to conversation was shocked. You, though wide eyed, were hurt, a small seed of doubt now attempting to worm its way into the mental security you had in your relationship with Max, but feeling him suddenly jerk his right hand away room your grip provided enough of a momentary distraction.

"Fuck you." The two simple words were followed by a punch that dropped the guy. You hear gasps coming from multiple directions, making you guys realize you weren't the only one experiencing this, but this was the last thing on Max's mind. He looks up at Catherine. "Is he your boyfriend?" He was shaking out his hand, stretching his fingers and gingerly touching what will inevitably be bruised knuckles.

"Not anymore. I knew he was an asshole sometimes, but this is a new low." She shakes her head down at Jack, who was now being tended to by a nearby marshall who saw, and luckily heard, everything, and was nodding in agreement.

"Good for you." Max finally looks away from his hand to turn his attention to you. "Come on, let's head back." Max then reaches out for your hand with his currently painfully red right hand, which you grasp instinctively, planning to make the grip a bit softer, but having to hold on more as he whisks you back to the Red Bull crowd, putting you with Geri and Christian.

"Where have you been?" Christian's question was frantic and directed toward Max as Geri swipes caringly at your white blouse.

"Doesn't matter." The answer mildly shocks everyone, showing that Max is running on pure adrenaline at the moment. He looks back at you. "Are you okay?"

You nod quickly at his answer, sad and tired doe eyes looking up at him. "Yeah, I'm fine. Well…now I'm worried you might get sued." As you spoke Max gathered you in a tight side hug and kissed your forehead.

"I fucking dare them." He says this with a flat neutral face, and then a grin suddenly appears once he looks toward you. "Love you." He leans down to place a kiss on your lips.

"Love you, too" You responded, tipping your head up toward you to get one last kiss before Max quickly makes his way into the cool down room for the last few minutes, joining Lewis and Charles.

"Where have you been, man?" Lewis was stationed by the stand holding his helmet, taking a long swig of water after his inquiry. Charles sat silently in one of the chairs, uncaring of the number indicating who it's supposed to be, also looking at Max quizzically. Max puts a finger up and watches the cameras in the room, waiting for them to be shut off indicating that filming has now been directed to the podium.

"I had to help Yn with something. Someone was being an asshole to her" He stretches his abused hand, bruising already starting.

"You punched someone?" Charles gets up and heads to the exit so the three can head to the podium. Max doesn't answer the question verbally, just looks up from his hand at him and lets a satisfying grin replace the flat expression on his face.

__________

"Baby, you're never this quiet. And it's been since we got back." You were sitting on the couch in his gaming room that sat behind his sim set up, hyper focused playing Mario Kart on your Nintendo Switch.

"I- I'm fine. Nothing's wrong." You mumble your answer, only half listening to Max's concern as you play your game.

"Yn, turn off the game and listen to me." You just press pause and look up to your left to place focus on Max, but Max wanted your undivided attention so he walked around to sit next to you, plucking the game from your hands and turning it off. When you didn't protest, he knew something was really wrong. "You have not been yourself, Yn."

"What, I'm supposed to be "childish" and "ditzy" all the time?" You snap, crossing your arms and avoiding eye contact.

"That's what it is." Max nods to himself and then uses the arm that he had outstretched along the back of the couch to tilt your head onto his shoulder. "You can't let the opinion of one person get to you, Love." Though meant to be comforting, Max's words just annoy you, making you lift your head from his shoulder and stand from the couch, pacing back and forth.

"But it's not the opinion of one person, it's the opinion of multiple people, apparently. I'm not sophisticated enough. I'm not mature enough. I'm not classy. I'm an airhead." You fight tears that prick at your eyes after using your fingers to list off comments you saw online. Max gets up from the couch to stop your pacing, lifting your head with his large hands and kissing a tear that got away. "I don't want to be a bad reflection on you, Max."

"You could never. Yn I am not exaggerating when I say that you are the best thing to ever come into my life. Okay?" You nod, but Max was not content with the lack of eye contact you've continued to maintain. "Yn?"

"Hmm?" You finally look up at Max when he calls your name, a soft grin briefly appearing on his face before disappearing.

"You know, I don't think just telling you will do anything." You hold the eye contact and furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I think that I am going to have to fuck into my lovely girl's head exactly how perfect she is. What do you think?" The grin was back, but presented more like a shit-eating grin. The confusion and anger you felt moments ago was brushed away, replaced by shock and arousal, and all you could truly do in the moment was nod. "You can be quiet now, but I'm gonna need you to speak up later on, okay?" Another nod from your blank faced head makes Max chuckle before kissing you again, harder, deeper, his tongue invading your mouth and, like a good little girl, you copied the motions, and when he pulled away you had a bright smile on as your teeth took hold of your bottom lip. Max could see in your eyes that your demeanor was softening, focusing on the pleasure that was incoming for you, but he wanted to go a bit slower, really wanting to emphasize the affirmations and confidence building that is supposed to take place. "Can I take this off of you?" You nod and Max slowly lifts the oversized shirt above your head, dropping it to the floor when he sees what’s underneath. A sheer pink bra with flower detailing, your nipples visible through the fabric. “What’s this?” Max was like a kid on Christmas morning, looking at a tree full of presents from the stairwell.

“I didn’t feel that great this morning so I put this set on because it's my favorite and makes me feel pretty.” You rock on your feet during your explanation, hands behind your back, pushing your chest out.

“Set?” You nod, gentle grin on your face. “Show me.” You follow directions, shimmying out of the tight shorts you had on to display the matching pink, flower detailed thong you had on. “Oh, you do look pretty, lovely girl. But you're always pretty.” Max gets an idea on the direction he want to take things. “You know what? Repeat that.” He grasped your hands, backing up to the couch and sitting down, bringing you in and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m pretty?” You twist your head to the side, lips in a small pout and face confused. Max runs his hands up your arms and brings them to your waist.

“Mhm. Again.” His eyes were trained on your breasts, bringing his right hand to your left breast to cup it and run his thumb over the nipple through the fabric of your bra.

“I’m pretty.” You say it as a statement this time, but still tainted with uncertainty.

“Yes you are. Again.” Max instructs, looking you in the eye, hand still fondling your breast.

“I’m pretty.” You say it with a grin this, breath hitching when his hand moves up to run along your entire boob.

“That’s my lovely girl.” You smile a little brighter at the accolade and subconsciously run your eye up and down Max’s torso. “You want me to take it off?” You nod, pussy clenching at the simple action of Max asking what you wanted from him. “You’ve gotta ask then, my love. Use your words.”

“Can you take your shirt off, please.” You squeaked out, then inadvertently bringing him closer to your chest when you begin to mess with your nails.

“Of course I can.” And so he leans away from you and manually removes your hands from his shoulders, which you subtly frown at, but the loss of contact didn’t matter once the solid build of your boyfriend’s torso became visible, hands magnetically drawn to his shoulder and rubbing down his back. “Happy.” You nod, the gentle grin settling on your face again. “Now, let’s see…” His hands go back to glancing over your sides. “You… are… intelligent. Repeat that.” His hands have now strayed to your ass, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m-ah-intelligent.” You do as you’re told, shock when you feel the pads of Max’s fingers drag across your clit, exposed since he pushed the fabric soaked in your juices to the side.

“That okay?” Max looks up at your wide eyed face and you nod, which prompts Max’s fingers to touch you, stirring up wetness that he uses to caress your clit. “Again.”

“I’m intelligent.” You place your hands firmly on Max’s shoulders as the sensation from your clit being stimulated had your knees starting to get weak and caused you to grind into Max’s hand.

“Yes, you are very intelligent, my eager little baby.” Max is able to stop you from rocking your hips and pulls away his hand, sucking your slick from his fingers. “You want my thigh instead? So you can rest those legs a bit.” You nod as you lower yourself onto his thigh, exposed since he was wearing shorts. You move the fabric of your panties to the side to be able to drag your clit along the muscle ridges of your boyfriend’s thigh, that sensation making you wetter which made Max harder, tenting his athletic shorts. “That’s my smart, pretty little horny girl. Get off on my leg, baby.” Max’s praise and encouragement makes you hump his leg harder, whimpering, trying to satisfy the amplified desire that resulted from his words. “Now, what can you think of to say, lovely girl?

“Can’t think…” You hug into the crook of his neck, still whimpering at the feeling, but Max reaches back to remove your face from his neck so you can look into his eyes.

“Yes you can. I know you can. Think…” The face that you had, mouth hung open, brows knitted together, only made Max harder as he waited for you to speak.

“I…am…classy.” You keep riding his thigh, moaning when Max bounces his leg once.

“Again.” His hands were back on your body, migrating back up toward your boobs.

“I’m classy.” Your words begin to slur and the motion of your hips more erratic and irregular.

“Good. Good job, lovely girl.” He looks up at your face, eyes closed and head rolling as you concentrate on the excruciatingly slow building climax. “What else?” Max had removed a hand from your body to push down the hem of his shorts and boxers down to free his dick, already dripping pre-cum on his stomach.

“I’m not an airhead.” You were whining your words now, hands past Max’s face and holding onto the back of the couch, pink sheer bra now taunting him.

“You’re not, my love. Fuck. I promise you.” Max runs his thumb along his raging pink tip then begins to pump himself, watching your flustered face intently.

“Maxie, ‘m gonna cum.” You brought your face back to his neck and continued the erratic pace of your hips, but your declaration caused Max to let go of his dick and use his hands on your hips to stop your movements. “Please…” This word was moaned from your lips, your endearing neediness making Max’s heart flutter, liking the fact that he’s the one satisfying your whiny pleas.

“Hold on, baby. Get up.” As you do, Max watches a string of wetness stretch from his thigh to your partially covered pussy. He then frantically pushed down his shorts and underwear, kicking them who knows where, and brings his hands back home to your hips, hooking his fingers onto your underwear but then removing them, grinning up at you. “You take them off, my love.” At this point all you wanted was to feel Max, inside and out, so you wiggle out of your thong, but as you reach back to remove your bra, the feeling of Max’s hand on your thigh stops you. “Keep it on if it makes you feel pretty, baby. But let me just…” Max reaches out to your breasts, pushing the pliable fabric out of the way, leaving your exposed boobs to be outlined by the pink fabric and the covered wiring of the bra.

“I look pretty?” There it went, your mind on the back burner as the only thing you can think of is getting on Max’s lap so you can bury his hard cock deep inside you. Max knew his words had to be careful now, as you were more sensitive in this state, but he still wanted to get it through to you that you were the only one for him.

“Yes you do, baby. Come here.” He brings you closer by your waist, holding on tighter as you climb on the couch, straddling him and then finally lowering down on him, whimpering at how deep he was and how full you felt. You tucked your head into his neck again, this time he gives in for a moment, not moving his hips at all, but bringing his fingers down to gently circle your engorged clit. “Come on, I want to see my pretty girl’s lovely face. Can you do that for me?” You nod into his neck and then slowly pull back to be face to face, eyes glossy and lips slightly parted, drawing Max in to kiss them. It was slow yet sloppy, and when you guys pulled back from each other, your lips were shiny from the spit. “Beautiful.” Max starts to slowly drag his hips into you, enjoying the fucked out face that you had even after just riding his thigh. Praises in English and Dutch came as a whisper from his lips, heads press against each other.

“Wanna suck on smthn…” You request between little whimpers, to which Max obliges by bringing his right hand to your jaw so his thumb could trace your lips before you opened your mouth for it.

“You look so pretty sucking on my thumb, bouncing on my dick.” While one hand was occupying your mouth, the other hand had a firm grip on your ass, helping you move up and down, but most of your movement was assisted by the slight bounce of the couch. As he watches the concentration you had, trying your hardest to get to that edge, he decided he wanted to give your brain something else to do. "Say you're pretty, baby." You initially go to take his thumb out of your mouth to say it, but he insists otherwise. "Say it around my thumb, love."

"I'm pwetty." You repeated, wide eyes boring into his, bringing your hands up to wrap them around his wrist.

"Good. Ah, fuck." Max stopped his thrusting for a moment but you didn't stop your bouncing, rocking your hips into his waist, getting well needed friction to your clit from it rubbing his pelvis. "Say-fuck-say your smart."

"I'm smawt." Again you repeated, this time face a bit more strained as your body gets to that familiar ledge.

"You deserve me, baby. I'm the one that doesn't-ah- deserve you." Max starts thrusting again, taking the hand that was on your butt and pushing locs that hung in front of your face behind your ear.

"I desewve you." You just mindlessly repeat the part of the sentence that you knew was for you, bouncing, chasing your climax.

"Fuck, yes you do baby. I'm so happy you're mine, my love." He removes his thumb from your mouth so he is able to use both hands to grip your waist to move you, and you whimper because of the emptiness in your mouth. "I want to hear all of the pretty noises you make when you cum."

"Wanna cum…gonna come-ah. Ah!" A quick succession of moans and whines accompanied your climax, it eventually all becoming too much, causing you to fall forward into his chest, still whimpering. Max pulls his dick out of you slowly, trying hard not to stimulate you past your limit.

"Shhh-shit-give me one moment and I'll help you, pretty girl. Just relax." He keeps one hand on your back, fingers running along your spine as he uses his other hand to finish himself off, letting out sharp breaths as strings of cum shoot lazily onto his hand. After he comes down from his own high, he starts to coo you back from your subspace, letting you know how well you did, reinforcing what he had you repeat earlier, asking what you wanted him to bring back from the kitchen. Once he feels you've come down enough, he fixes your bra then picks up your oversized shirt from the floor and pulls it over your head, then goes to clean himself up enough to put his clothes back on and comes back to clean you up and make sure you drink the water he brought you. The rest of the night you guys cuddled on that couch, deciding to just sleep there for the night, and Max held you tight to his body, trying to physically protect you from the words that caused you so much mental anguish. He laid there, thinking, and decided that when you wake up, he's suggesting you delete Twitter.

#black reader #request #f1 x black!reader #formula 1 #formula 1 x black!reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 fake text #f1 smut #f1 smau #f1 imagines

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dollfaceksj · 10 months

Text

met him last night | ksj (m)

➥ PAIRING: seokjin x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: You’ve worked in the office with Kim Seokjin for quite some time but you never really pay attention to him. He’s basically your stereotypical introverted nerd with complimentary glasses decorating his eyes and sweater vests clinging to his torso. Coincidentally, you bump into him outside of work. You’re in for the shock of your life when you find some stuff out about him.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ plot twist ⋆ porn with plot

➥ CATEGORY: two-shot

➥ WARNINGS: wild & flirty taehyung (cause why not?), strong language, tension, sexual tension, nerd!seokjin, plot twist, two-faced seokjin? basically hes not what he seems like, reader is a bit of a hypocrite, mentions of biphobia/misogyny, awkward interaction in a grocery store, mentions of sexual acts, minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 10.9k

a/n: aaaa im glad this is finally out i just wanted my own ver of a hannah montana story man. jkjk but yeah i hope u enjoy <33 lmk what u fink.

a/n 2: pt. 1 is pretty slow but pt. 2 has all the mind-blowing filthy smut i promise✍🏽

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

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to: Y/N.Y/L/[email protected]

from: Karen Smith

This is the 3rd time this has happened! I demand to speak to anyone that’s in charge.

“Ugh, she won’t stop complaining,” you groan as you finish reading another email from the same customer who’s been complaining for 4 days straight because the delivery man delivered her package to her neighbor.

You’ve tried to explain multiple times that he had no choice due to her absence at the time of delivery but she’s adamant on letting you know she doesn’t approve.

You rub your eye with the knuckle of your index finger, careful not to smudge your eyeliner or mascara before you let a loud sigh push past your lips and slouch in your chair.

Your co-worker and friend, Taehyung, glances over at you from the desk next to yours with an amused grin on his lips. “I dealt with her last time. Good luck, she won’t let up.”

With a turn of your head, you finally meet his gorgeous eyes that glimmer with mischief and it annoys you to the core. Your glare throws imaginary daggers at him, an irritated scowl forming on your face.

“All she did was order some balloons and confetti. I’d understand if she had ordered something expensive like a phone or console,” you mumble in annoyance, your eyes flickering to the bottom right corner of your monitor to check the time.

It’s 3:34PM. Under 30 minutes until you get to clock out. You swivel in your chair, head thrown back as you stare at the ceiling, lost in thought. You close your eyes, allowing the built-in ceiling-air-conditioning to softly fan over your face while you think about what a shit week you’ve had.

“You’re too frustrated. Thought about fucking it out of your system?” You hear Taehyung’s deep voice way closer than it was before, making you snap your head in the direction of said decibels.

He has rolled over in his chair, now sitting right next to you with a shit-eating grin on his lips. You merely grunt in response, lifting your leg and placing your foot against the edge of his seat’s cushion right in between his thighs in one swift motion, missing his groin by a hair before you kick his chair back in the general direction of his desk.

He laughs as he aimlessly rolls back to his desk, grabbing onto the edge of the wooden surface belonging to his desk before turning to fully face you.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” His tone does sound more serious but you just wave your hand at him in dismissal as you return your attention to your inbox that’s bursting with emails waiting for a response from you.

“You offering?” you tease, playfully, without looking at him, eyes still fixed on the screen in front of you.

A deep chuckle leaves his throat before he continues, “If you’d asked that a week ago, I would’ve fucked the shit out of you.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise as you turn to look at him but this time it’s Taehyung that’s avoiding eye contact, eyes glued to his screen as his long fingers gracefully dance over the black keyboard in front of him. Taehyung has always been flirty, has always made dirty jokes but that’s what they were. Jokes.

This time, he says it like it’s a confession. Like he’s serious. And you hate to admit that it rattles you to the core.

“Be normal,” you mumble, uncertainty coating your tone as your hands fidget with the bundle of papers to your right, pretending to look busy and unbothered.

He glances at you for a moment before shrugging and saying, “I’m not lying.” He returns his gaze to his computer, right hand draped over the cursor as the clicking of his mouse sounds louder than ever.

“But as you know that cute guy asked me out again and I can see it going somewhere,” he explains as he brings his other arm up, leaning his elbow on his desk and bringing his hand up to rub his lips with the tips of his fingers.

You idly blink at the side of his face a few times, eyeing his side profile. He truly is a sight to behold. A chorus of swear words start clouding your mind. Taehyung was down to fool around with you and you didn’t take that opportunity? You must be fucking crazy.

Well, in your defense, he wasn’t obvious about it. But you do wish you’d gotten to spend at least one night with him, just to see what you’re missing out on. He has never hidden his wild lifestyle, partying every weekend, meeting new people everyday, it makes you so very curious because you aren’t like that at all.

You like staying home, you like being in bed, you like rewatching your favorite shows on Netflix.

The soft knock on the door to your office snaps you out of your thoughts, your head automatically turning to look at the door as it’s being pushed open.

One of the long-term interns turned employee pushes his face into the room, politely bowing his head at you and Taehyung as his eyes peek at you above the rim of his glasses.

You’re acquainted with Seokjin but he’s really quiet and doesn’t really engage in much conversation, though, he’s always been polite and has never made you uncomfortable or anything.

He did once buy you a brand new, expensive keyboard and cursor because he felt so guilty for spilling your cup of coffee all over them. He kept apologizing even when you told him it was okay. He returned the following day with a new set and insisted on installing it for you.

Or another time when you left him speechless for buying him a box of chocolates for Valentines day, despite the fact you had bought one for everyone at work. He almost dropped to his knees to thank you, which made Taehyung burst into laughter as you tried to stop the giant with broad shoulders from being so dramatic.

You always do your best to be nice to him because everyone at work kind of dodges him, in fear of having an awkward conversation or assuming he’ll start rambling about his Pokemon card collection.

He has never said anything about owning a Pokemon card collection or anything of the sort. It’s just one of the many dumb stereotypical jokes they’ve made up about him, simply because he graduated top of his class, wears dorky sweaters, has glasses sitting on top the bridge of his nose and is socially awkward.

Or is he? They’ve never attempted to even have a conversation with him that lasted longer than 30 seconds.

With you, he isn’t awkward. He’s quiet but he’s not awkward. Yes, you have to do most of the talking which can make it awkward for you but he’s just a guy that keeps to himself. Who wouldn’t when they get treated like this?

He walks further in, muttering a low ‘excuse me’ before turning his body to address you, “Y/N, are today’s report files done?” Seokjin quietly asks you, referring to all the complaints you have to print out that need to be on your manager’s desk at the end of every day.

You nod and point your chin towards a bundle of files on your desk. He smiles at you politely and you return the smile, unfortunately, yours is fake. You’ve had a shit week and you can’t bring yourself to start small talk with him like you usually would.

He must’ve noticed you’re not in the mood so he just gives you a curt nod and takes the bundle of papers, fingers wrapping tightly around it as he spins on his heels and heads out of your office again. He disappears as quickly as he appeared.

You don’t pay much attention to him as you return your gaze to the screen in front of you, a quiet sigh leaving you as you continue to do what you’re paid to do.

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You absolutely hate going grocery shopping on Saturdays, which is why you usually don’t. But when you swung the door to your fridge open and found out you had run out of milk, it had you cursing like a sailor. To think you’d have to start your Sunday morning without your mandatory bowl of Frosted Flakes and cup of coffee has you grunting in annoyance as you reach for a plastic store basket.

You sling it over your forearm and start walking around the store, already knowing your way around your go-to supermarket. Your eyes trail some of the new products, fingers silently tapping the handle of the basket against your forearm. You make your way to the refrigerated dairy section of the store, eyes skimming the see-through glass doors until you find what you’re looking for.

You fill your basket with some cheese, yoghurt and 3 bottles of whole milk before closing the glass door and turning on your heels. You start heading towards the checkout counter because you don’t want to be here any longer than you need to but your feet slow down in their pace once your eyes fall on a rack of condoms.

Your eyes scan the different brands, the different sizes, the different flavors. Even multiple types of lube hang on rods in front of you and Taehyung’s words instantly come rushing back to you.

Is he right? Should you just fuck it out of your system?

You aren’t the type to really have one-night-stands but Taehyung is. And he’s the happiest, most carefree guy you know. His happy-go-lucky attitude is branded on your brain wrinkles and you crave that same carelessness.

Before you can even let your rational self talk you out of it, you reach for a random box and turn it over, eyes skimming over the small white letters on the package.

Pffft. Extra thin for maximum stimulation. Ultrasmooth inside for a more natural feel. Made from premium latex.

Your eyes linger for a moment longer before you hear your name coming from somewhere on your right side.

You turn your head to look at the person, only to be met with the quiet long-term intern turned employee you’ve worked with for a few months now, Kim Seokjin. His fluffy brown hair is draped over his forehead like always, kissing the edge of his signature silver-rimmed glasses. His plump lips are big and pink, stretching to give you a polite smile.

“Oh, Seokjin?” you say with surprise in your tone, the box of condoms in your hands completely slipping your mind.

With a single nod of his head, his gaze slowly drops down to the box of rubbers in your hands that you’ve been ogling at.

“Having trouble choosing?” he asks in a neutral tone, the question catching you off guard.

You glance at the condoms again with a frown as if you’d forgotten you were even holding it, heat instantly rushing to your cheeks and ears in embarrassment. It’s only now that you realize you’re still holding a pack of rubbers that are made to cover a penis before it enters a hole.

You quickly place it back in panic, a nervous chuckle escaping your lips, “Oh, I uh.. I was just curious,” you mumble, shaking your head at the fact you let that lunatic talk you into checking out condoms in public. Damn you, Taehyung.

“Are you sure? I can answer some questions you may have.” His words are so well enunciated and polite that it relaxes you a bit.

You’re both adults. Adults have sex. This shouldn’t be embarrassing, not in the slightest.

His soft tone reassures you that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about so you glance up at him for a moment. You idly stare at him for a few seconds, committing his features to memory.

He’s quite beautiful. Very beautiful actually, you always seem to forget that fact about him but you’re reminded of it every single time you’re near him. Unfortunately, his personality isn’t really anything interesting so you don’t feel that attracted to him.

“Y/N?” he says with his brows pinched together, hidden behind his fluffy brown locks.

You must’ve been ogling him like a fucking freak for him to be calling you out like this. Fuck.

“Oh, right,” you blurt out, “well, I was wondering…” You don’t even know how to go about this but his calm and soft demeanor makes you feel at ease, despite your heart racing in your chest.

You continue, “I just wanna have some as backups at home but I’m not sure which size or brand to choose.” You’re relieved that you managed to say that without stumbling over your words but the hiccup in your chest is still being persistent as hell, though. You can’t help but be a little embarrassed.

“This brand is good,” he says without hesitation, pointing at a black box before tugging it off the metal rod and handing it to you. “Size medium is your safest option. They fit most people.” The words leave his mouth so nonchalantly, as if he’s talking about the weather.

If he notices how surprised you are at his reaction, he doesn’t show nor comment on it.

“If they don’t fit a regular medium then they’ll usually have their own.” His eyes finally meet yours as the words leave his lips, still no sign of judgment or disgust on his features. It makes you drop your tensed shoulders in relief.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” you reply quietly, nodding your head as you process his words. It makes sense, of course. If someone has an unusual size, they’ll have their own condoms, no? Whether that be too small or too big.

“Thank you, even though that was more than a little embarrassing,” you chuckle to deter the embarrassment you’re experiencing at the moment, placing the black box of condoms in your basket before turning to face him again.

There’s a flicker of something unusual in his eyes and it catches you off guard for a moment but he quickly offers you a smile, his perfectly straight pearly whites making an appearance. You try not to be stereotypical but you can’t help but wonder whether that must’ve been the result of braces.

“Anytime.”

With that, he spins on his heels and disappears behind a corner at the end of the aisle. You slowly exhale the deep breath you didn’t realize you were holding and press the back of your hand against your cheek, the heat from your cheeks spreading through your skin, knuckles and fingers.

You gently shake your head in hopes of cooling down and head toward the checkout counter, waiting your turn as you unload your unpaid products onto the black conveyor belt.

The line is slow but at least it’s moving. When it’s finally your turn, you offer the cashier a polite smile as you reach for your wallet but you’re stopped by a hand on your elbow. You snap your head in the direction of the person that’s touching you, only to be met with familiar beautiful brown eyes behind thin silver-rimmed glasses.

“Sorry, I’m kind of in a rush. Do you mind me butting in?” Seokjin asks, holding up the products he’s holding in his hand. You’re surprised by the sudden interruption but you shake your head, muttering a quick ‘of course not’.

He quietly thanks you and begins by placing a bag of coffee machine capsules, a bag of Doritos and a small black box onto the conveyor belt, next to your stuff.

He walks around you from the back and presses his card to the payment terminal, paying for all your stuff as well. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, lips slightly parting as you watch him bag your goods.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say as you tap his bicep to get his attention.

He simply shrugs his shoulders and offers you a kind smile, his hand coming up to the bottom rim of his right lens, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with the back of his index finger. You suppose paying for your stuff is his way of thanking you for letting him cut in line.

Your gaze shifts toward the products that he hasn’t bagged yet, the black box of condoms catching your eye. You pick up the box, thinking they’re yours but you notice the golden ‘XL’ letters immediately. That is definitely not the same box. Is he buying you another box of condoms as a thank you?

What does an ‘extra large’ dick even look like, though? That sounds ridiculous. “I thought you said mediums were fine?” you chuckle as you turn the box over to examine it properly.

“Oh,” he pauses, “those are for me.”

His words process in your mind a little too slowly to your liking. As soon as you realize what he just told you, your head snaps in his direction and he’s already looking at you with a small awkward smile on his pretty lips.

You absentmindedly blink at him a few times, your mind screaming at you to say something and end this excruciating awkwardness.

“Oh,” you start, “oh! Right, yeah. Of course. My bad.” You drop the box of condoms back onto the counter as if it burned your hand, heat spreading through your face, ears and neck all over again. And your burning cheeks had just started cooling off from the previous encounter, great.

A soft chuckle escapes his throat quietly, his head shaking in dismissal. “It’s fine. No worries,” he says as he gathers his stuff and loads them into another plastic bag before handing you yours.

“I’ll see you at work,” he pauses as he turns to look at you one last time, “Have a good weekend, Y/N.”

And just like that, he turns around and starts heading out, an air of his confidence still lingering around you. Your eyes intently watch his retreating figure as if you’re in a trance, his broad shoulders on display in the black shirt he’s wearing.

You can’t believe that just happened and what’s more unbelievable is how calm and nonchalant he was about the whole thing.

At work he seems so introverted, so shy, so timid. But today, he approached you, initiated small talk and even helped you with your concerns about fucking condoms.

Not to mention the fact that you just made him tell you that he has a monster in his boxers.

What the fuck just happened?

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Your legs lazily carry you toward your desk the following Monday, feet dragging across the floor and shoulders slouched. Taehyung greets you from his desk as chirpy as ever and you simply nod in response, plopping down into your seat with a grunt.

He laughs at your grumpiness with a shake of his head before he returns to the work that’s waiting for his attention. You bring your hand up to shield your mouth as you quietly yawn, desperately in need of some coffee. You glance to the side, batting your lashes prettily at Taehyung with your hands clasped together under your chin.

Taehyung turns to look at you, an amused frown on his face. “What do you want?”

You pout at him, tilting your head to the side as you continue to bat your eyelashes. “Coffee,” you innocently say, making your eyes big and doe-like.

He laughs and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of his index fingers. He leans back with a loud groan and slouches in his seat, staring up at the ceiling with his hands on his stomach as he turns in his chair from side to side.

He loudly sighs. “Only because you’re my favorite co-worker.” He finally gets up, yanking his phone out of the charger and tucking it into his pocket.

“I’m the only co-worker you see!” you exclaim with a scowl, watching as he blows you a kiss and heads out of your shared office. You childishly huff and cross your arms, spinning in your chair as you stare at the ceiling. You should at least start your PC up but you don’t think you could even get your brain to work and do something as simple as that.

You snatch your phone off your desk and check the time, 8:05AM. Too fucking early to do anything. You grunt and toss your phone back onto your desk, playing with the earring in your earlobe as you wait for Taehyung’s return.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room again, two cups of steaming liquid in his hands as he pushes the door open with his hip. He struts up to you and places the cup next to your keyboard. He brings his free hand up to flick the back of your head, causing you to yelp in surprise.

You snap your head in his direction, one of your hands flying up to the back of your head and your other hand reaches out to hit him but he quickly dodges you with a giggle, making sure he doesn’t spill his own cup of tea—he hates coffee—and burn his fingers.

He plops down in his seat and takes a sip, humming in delight with his eyes closed as the warm liquid slides down his esophagus. He pulls his lips away from the rim of his cup with an obnoxious ‘ah’ exhale which makes you groan in response.

You’ve never met anyone as annoying as him.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculousness and huff, a small smile on your lips as you eventually mutter a quiet ‘thank you’ to him. You take a sip of your coffee and moan, enjoying the taste on your tongue.

“So, how was that date?” you ask him, remembering how he mentioned something about the cute guy asking him out again.

To your surprise, he groans and puts his paper cup down on his desk with a loud thud, almost spilling the piping hot liquid everywhere. “He was a fucking asshole about me liking women as well so I called it quits.”

Your eyebrows pinch together, a slight stinging in your chest at his words. People can be such assholes.

“Oh, that’s horrible. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” You turn your chair to face him, a small pout on your lips.

“It’s okay, I fucked his friend anyways.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you scrunch your nose up at the shameless confession. You’re grateful you weren’t sipping on your hot coffee because that information would’ve easily burned your throat.

He snorts at your reaction, picking up his cup and taking another sip of his lemon tea, hissing at the heat on his tongue. “What about you? How was your weekend?” he asks you after he’s swallowed it down, eyes curiously glancing at you.

You shrug your shoulders. “It was fine. Boring.” The last word leaves your lips in a mumble, downing the rest of your coffee in one big gulp after it cools down a bit.

“I told you to loosen up, didn’t I? Have some fun, you’re young, you should be enjoying your twenties.”

His words instantly throw you back into Saturday, a twitch in your eyebrows as you recall the bizarre scene clearly.

“Oh, my God,” you mumble, staring at the computer in front of you before turning to look at him with big eyes.

Taehyung’s eyebrows raise in surprise before scrunching together, tilting his head to the side in curiosity as he looks back at you. “What?”

You pinch the tip of your nose and sniffle to prepare yourself as you think about how to explain your strange incident from this weekend. “What do you think about Seokjin?”

His frown doesn’t let up. “The quiet intern?”

“Yeah.”

The confusion on his face turns into complete perplexity, the question catching him completely off guard. “Uh? I mean…” He confusingly shakes his head to collect his thoughts.

“Pretty cute, tall, broad shoulders, geek, boring as hell,” he pauses. “Why?”

You nod to his words as you listen, agreeing to what he’s saying, “Would you believe me if I told you last Saturday he…” you begin, slowly processing the words you plan on saying out loud for the first time since it happened. “…He bought me condoms?” you finish, still uncertain about it as the words leave your mouth.

He instantly lunges at you in his chair, big eyes and a big shit-eating grin on his lips. “Wait, what the fuck? What are you talking about?” He gets out of his chair and places his big hands on the armrests of your chair as he hunches directly over you.

You sink into your seat, a bit surprised by his proximity as he leans into your face like he’s trying to decipher whether you’re lying or not. You try to ignore the lump forming in your throat. Taehyung is still a very attractive man after all, even if he’s your friend.

“Yeah, and it’s all your fault. If he didn’t see me ogling the condom section like a fucking weirdo because you told me to loosen up, that awkward interaction wouldn’t have happened.” You push your hand flat against his hard chest to push him back but he doesn’t budge, too intrigued by the exciting events of your boring weekend.

He laughs when he tells you, “Oh, that nerd wants to fuck you so bad.”

You screech, adding your other hand to his chest which finally allows you to push him off. He laughs loudly, running a hand through his fluffy golden locks as he stumbles back a bit. He still looks absolutely flabbergasted.

“No, you freak. He was being nice,” you mumble, disregarding the thought completely.

“Tell me everything,” he says with a smirk as he leans his butt against your desk, facing you with his arms crossed over his chest.

You explain the entire thing in vivid detail as you remember it, mind wandering to the way Seokjin’s brown eyes stared at you as you picked up his box of condoms. The image will never leave your mind.

You look around to make sure no one’s going to barge into your office and hear you talk about the strange conversation you’re having with your co-worker about another employee’s private matters (and parts). “Then after he paid, I picked up that box and he said those were for him.”

“Oh, so he actually fucks.” He strokes his chin at the new information. “What size were his condoms?” Taehyung can’t help but smirk, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

Your response is just a grunt, your attention returning to the computer in front of you. You completely ignore his question in hopes he’ll drop the topic but he’s Taehyung.

“What? Is he walking around with a little dick? Or is he blessed?” He nudges you with his hip, causing you to groan loudly as you try to push him off your desk. “Come on, I went and got you coffee.”

A heavy sigh pushes past your lips as you look up at him, guilty about the fact you’re about to reveal private information about another colleague. “XLs.”

You watch as his expression completely becomes that of a cartoon character. Eyes widened, jaw dropped, eyebrows raised.

“Shut the fuck up!” he beams. Grabs you by the shoulders. Shakes you slightly. You childishly groan his name but you make no efforts to stop him.

“Damn, who would’ve thought?” he mutters as he drops his hands from your shoulders to lean back against your desk, hands tucked into his pockets. He blankly stares ahead, eyes glued to the white wall in front of him as he continues to think about the revelation. “Shit. Nerd with a big dick. I should’ve called dibs.”

“Get back to work, you horndog.” You nudge his hip with your elbow, finally getting him to go back to his chair with a low chuckle.

“How long until you think he tries to make a move on you?” Taehyung purrs, taking a final sip of his tea. He crumples up the paper cup. Tosses it across the room. Completely misses the trash can. He isn’t the athletic type.

You shake your head in dismissal, a scowl on your face. “He’s not going to make a move on me, he was just being nice,” you say before you pause and momentarily glance at him to add, “don’t make it weird.”

He chuckles lowly, muttering a quiet, worthless apology. He begins, “Well, just because he’s big doesn’t mean he knows what to do with it. It’s not about the size of the wave but about the motion in the oce–”

You cut him off with a loud groan, “That’s enough out of you, freak.”

With a final laugh, he finally drops the topic of your timid co-worker’s penis and returns his focus to his work.

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The rest of the week goes by so damn slow. And so does the next week. And the week after that. And the one after that.

It’s been weeks, months. Work is taking its toll on you again. It makes you twice as excited about going out to eat with a few of your friends this Saturday.

When Saturday afternoon finally rolls around, you take your mandatory everything-shower. You take your time washing your body and hair, shaving every nook and cranny of your body and exfoliating your skin.

You feel good.

Once you hop out the shower and wrap a fresh towel around your naked body, you saunter into your bedroom. You reach for your phone, unlocking it by typing in your passcode and instantly checking the groupchat.

[3:54PM]

Olivia

The reservation is at 6, don’t be late!

Olivia

I’m looking at YOU Taehyung

Taehyung

Now why am I in it

Taehyung

See how I do nothing and still get pulled into shit

Olivia

😒 Shut up

Hoseok

you get pulled into shit because you’re always at the center of it

Taehyung

Yall are some hating ass people bro

[4:01PM]

You

no ur just dumb

Taehyung

Oh I’M the dumb one OK

You roll your eyes and chuckle as you toss your phone onto your bed, getting ready to do your hair and makeup after you’ve slid on your black lace panties and matching bra.

After you’ve finished styling your hair exactly as you like it, you start with makeup.

You keep it pretty minimal. You hold your hand mirror in front of your face and get to work. You just color your brows in a bit, apply some concealer and bronzer. A pretty shade of blush to the apples of your cheeks and pretty wings of liner on each outer corner of your eyes. You pick up your phone to text Taehyung, in desperate need of a second opinion.

[5:13PM]

You

falsies or no falsies

You apply a coat of mascara while you wait for a response, making sure not to get any black clots stuck in your lashes. You soon apply a nice brown lip liner and a nude-peachy liquid lipstick on top, giving you the perfect kissable pout.

Your phone vibrates.

[5:15PM]

Taehyung

Falsies. Always falsies

[5:15PM]

You

👍 thnx

You chuckle as you apply lash glue to your pretty cat fake eyelashes you got from some random drugstore and place them on your desk gently as you wait for the glue to get tacky.

Your phone vibrates again.

[5:16PM]

Taehyung

I honestly don’t know what the fuck falsies even are but the more of anything the better

[5:16PM]

You

fake eyelashes dumbass

[5:16PM]

Taehyung

Oh. Show me the difference?

You sigh in exasperation as you apply fake eyelashes to only one of your eyes, tinkering with the band in the inner corner of your eye, tongue poked out at the corner of your mouth in concentration.

Once you’re satisfied with the lashes, you glance into your vanity mirror to see what it looks like from afar. You put your phone up and open up the front camera, staring into the camera with a sultry look to emphasize the difference of fake lashes versus no fake lashes, but with a peace sign to make it somewhat playful.

[5:19PM]

You

(image attachment)

You fight the urge to nibble on your bottom lip, to not ruin your perfect lip look of tonight as you anxiously wait for his response. You’re running out of time and you still have to get dressed.

[5:20PM]

Taehyung

Both are nice but definitely with

[5:20PM]

Taehyung

You look good

You smile to yourself when you read the message, beginning to prepare the other fake lashes.

Once you’ve wrapped up your makeup with a spritz of setting spray directly onto your face, you fan it down with your hand and place your hand mirror back in its rightful place.

You get up from your little vanity and head towards your closet, fishing out the white silk button up that compliments your waist and chest so beautifully and the black knee-length pencil skirt that hugs your ass and hips so well, making you want to bend yourself over any surface.

You snap out of your ludicrous thoughts and quickly slip your clothes on for tonight, walking up to your vanity as you’re buttoning up your shirt. You reach for a gold layered necklace and wrap it around your neck, leaving the top 2 buttons unbuttoned so you can flaunt your pretty necklace.

You pick up your favorite perfume and spray yourself with the sublime scent, humming in delight as the scent enters your nostrils.

You push the needles of the small golden hoop earrings you fished out of your drawer through the already existing holes of your earlobes, clasping them up and turning to look at yourself in the mirror one last time before sliding a gold bracelet onto your left wrist.

You grab your small purse, tucking your phone and lipgloss inside as you head into your hallway, pushing your feet into your black pumps before unlocking your front door and heading out, making sure to lock up behind you.

You look and feel good for the first time in a while. Tonight’s going to be fun.

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Your night is filled with laughter and chitchat, surrounded by people you enjoy being around.

“He was so drunk he literally threw up all over that poor girl’s Louboutins.” Olivia goes on and on about the crazy night she spent with her best friend, Hoseok, last weekend. Taehyung is enjoying the outrageous story, laughing and slapping Hoseok’s shoulder as he listens to every word.

Hoseok, who has visibly reddened in his face, groans loudly, “You literally snorted so hard at that guy’s joke that you spat in his eye.” He shoots back in defense, ready to start their signature back and forth sibling-like bickering.

They continue on and on but it’s nearing 8PM and your social battery is running out.

As if he could read your mind, Taehyung waves a waiter over and asks for the check.

Taehyung had offered to go for drinks somewhere else but Hoseok and Olivia have to get up early and do some volunteering in her hometown’s new pub that’s co-owned by her parents.

You’re thankful, though, you really just want to go home. The night life just isn’t for you, you just want to cuddle up in your bed, watch a sappy movie or thrilling series and go to sleep. Like you do pretty much during all your weekends.

You excuse yourself to go to the restroom but on your way there, you hear your name being called.

Spinning on your heels, your eyes scan the area, trying to locate the voice that called out to you. Your patience is running thin and you’re about to continue your strut to the restroom until a soft hand gently cups your elbow.

You turn your head to look over your shoulder, met with chestnut brown eyes and big plump lips. It takes you a moment to recognize him without his fluffy hair draped over his forehead and no glasses decorating his eyes.

Your frown must be getting to him because he speaks up again, “Forgotten my name, have you?” he teases, dropping his hand from your arm.

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise when his familiar voice booms in your ears, flabbergasted by the sight in front of you.

He’s wearing a 2 piece black suit, a beige dress up shirt under his black suit jacket, unbuttoned at the top. Even his damn neck is gorgeous, how is that possible?

His brown hair is in a side part, forehead and eyebrows on display, his bangs kissing the ends of his brows. You weren’t even sure he had eyebrows because his hair was always covering them. His signature silver rimmed glasses are nowhere to be seen and you assume he must be wearing contact lenses.

He’s absolutely fucking gorgeous. You already knew that but literally, what the hell?

Your brain is screaming at you to answer him already and not ogle him like you want to drop onto your knees and give him the sloppiest blowjob of his life.

“Of course not,” you blurt out, “Seokjin… right?” you finish, uncertainty in your tone.

He chuckles at your playful guess, not taking offense to your doubt. “Yeah,” he pauses, “what are you doing here? You look fantastic, by the way.” His gaze drags up your figure quickly and your heart jolts in between your lungs, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

“Oh,” you begin, “thank you. I was out with some friends. What about you?” You have to pretend that compliment didn’t just make your insides clench.

He scratches the back of his head with a defeated smile. “I was supposed to go on a date but I think I got stood up because she was supposed to be here 20 minutes ago and she’s not answering her phone,” he chuckles with an air of embarrassment.

Your heart sinks to your stomach at his words. People are such fucking assholes.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, placing a comforting hand on his bicep. Your hands tense on his arm because touching his hard bicep isn’t a smart thing for you to do right now. “I never understood how people can bring themselves to do something like that. It’s such a shitty thing to do.”

He simply shrugs his shoulders. “I’ll wait 10 more minutes and then go home,” he muses, glancing down at the silver watch wrapped around his left wrist.

You slowly nod as you drag your gaze up his body. Wow. You can’t stress this enough. He is absolutely ethereal.

“Enjoy your night, Y/N.” A smile stretches onto his lips as he takes a step backwards, still holding eye contact with you before he turns on his heels and returns to his table which isn’t far from the restrooms.

You stand there for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts before you silently make your way into the restroom with a heavy heart.

How unfair. He’s such a sweetheart, why would anyone treat him like that? He’s respectful, well-mannered, absolutely gorgeous and allegedly has a big dick. He’s a complete catch.

You abruptly put a stop to your own thoughts. What kind of a hypocrite are you?

You literally don’t pay him any attention because he doesn’t ooze confidence or act like a bad boy with a foul attitude that are beasts in bed. You are one of the assholes you’re complaining about.

With a long glare at the mirror in front of you, staring yourself down in disgust, your heart won’t let up. He doesn’t deserve this. No one does.

You reapply your lipgloss after making up your mind, retouching some of your makeup and fixing some of the hairs that are out of place before you strut out of the restroom and return to your table.

You glance at Seokjin on your way to your table but he’s immersed in his phone, absentmindedly scrolling. Your heart sinks at the sight again.

“Took you long enough, I already paid,” Taehyung mutters, nodding toward the empty seats that once belonged to Hoseok and Olivia.

“I’m staying here.” Your words make him glance at you in surprise, a slight raise to his brows.

“What’s going on?” he pries because he’s Taehyung.

You shake your head quickly, dismissing the concern in his tone. “Everything’s okay,” you say in a reassuring tone.

“Why are you staying here?” he asks, eyes furiously scanning the area.

You obnoxiously sigh, he won’t stop prying so you might as well just tell him. “Seokjin got stood up and I feel bad for him. I’ll join him for like… half an hour.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you for a moment, tilting his head to the side as he processes your words. There haven’t been any note-worthy incidents between you and Seokjin since the condom-thing so Taehyung never brought him up again but just as you thought he could finally act like an adult, a smug smirk creeps on his lips.

“You’re definitely getting fuc–”

“Out.” You cut him off, pushing him toward the exit.

He laughs as he heads out the door of the restaurant, throwing you his attempt at an ahegao face from behind the glass of the window outside. You roll your eyes in exasperation, holding up your middle finger in response before you start making your way to Seokjin’s table.

He’s still on his phone, elbows on the table as he mindlessly scrolls through whatever app he’s on.

You inhale deeply before approaching him, pulling out the chair opposite of him and plopping down on it.

This catches his attention. He peeks up at you from his phone, eyes glancing at you through his brows in surprise and confusion.

You return the eye contact and place your own elbows on the table, slightly leaning forward to close some of the distance between you two.

“Long time no see,” you joke.

He frowns for a moment longer before he chuckles and he locks his phone, turning it face down onto the table next to his utensils. “What’s up?”

You stare at him for a little while longer while he awaits your response in confusion. You part your pretty lips to speak, “That date is probably not coming. Thought I’d join you for a while, I don’t have any plans anyways.”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, thick lips parting to say something but no words come out. He leans back into his chair, a certain look in his eyes that you can only describe as intrigue as he shuts his mouth again.

You tilt your head to the side, pretty eyes still intently watching him with a glimmer of something in your eyes that even you can’t put your finger on.

“That’s nice of you. Why, though?” he asks, voice neutral as if he genuinely just wants to know why you would do that.

You bring your shoulders up and drop them right away. “I just wanted to.”

He glances at you for a few seconds. There’s a flicker of something in his eyes but it’s gone by the time you’ve realized it’s skepticism. “It’s not out of pity, right?”

Your heartbeat stutters for a moment at how his voice seemed to drop an octave when he asked that, sweat forming on your palms. You quickly compose yourself and shake your head. “No.”

“Well then,” he says as he glances at the seemingly expensive watch wrapped around his left wrist, “would you like to order something?”

“Nah.” You shake your head at his offer because you really just want to go home but quickly realize he must not have eaten yet, since he was waiting for someone that never came. “But you must be hungry, right?”

He brings his fingers up to his face, absentmindedly rubbing his shaven chin as his eyes continue to study you. “Yeah, but I heard the food here takes quite some time to get to your table so I was just planning on leaving and eating something at home or something.”

“Hm,” you hum, fingers fidgeting with the hoop earring in your right earlobe. “I have some leftover lasagna at home. Would you like some?” The words leave your mouth before you can even think them through. Why the hell would you invite him into your home?

Thankfully, Seokjin is more of an introvert who also prefers the comfort of his own home, so he’ll probably decline.

“Sure.”

Your chest visibly stutters but you quickly compose yourself and rise to your feet in a hurry, hoping he won’t notice the nervous switch in your demeanor. “Cool, let’s go,” is all you say as you scramble to gather your purse.

He wordlessly blinks at you a few times before quietly chuckling and reaching for his phone as he tucks it into the pocket of his slacks.

He calls a waiter over and explains the situation before walking up to you, trying to get through the sea of bodies that are present. He finally reaches you as you wait for him by the exit of the building and places his hand on the small of your back as he motions for you to walk out the door first.

His touch, not even directly to your skin, sends an instant volt of electricity down your vertebrae. Stop suddenly acting a fucking fool around him when you didn’t even notice his presence before, you think to yourself.

“Did you come here by car?” he asks, taking his car keys out of his pocket before turning to look at you.

You shake your head. “Taehyung came to pick me up.”

He nods to your words whilst leading you to his car, warm hand still on your back. “Kim Taehyung? From work?” He leads you to a black Mercedes and you don’t know a lot about cars but this one looks insanely expensive. How does he have the money to own a car like that with the same salary you have?

“Oh uh,” you say as you snap out of your thoughts, “yeah.”

He opens the door to the passenger seat’s side for you and holds your hand for support, his other hand protecting your head as you get in.

Wow. Who would’ve thought he was such a gentleman?

It’s a stark contrast from when Taehyung called you a sexy bitch and told you to hop in his car earlier this evening.

Seokjin closes the door on your side and makes his way around the front of his car to the driver’s seat. Your eyes stay glued to him like a moth to a flame as he makes his way in, your heartbeat quickening again.

Why are you so nervous? It’s all Taehyung’s fault and his crazy scenarios.

“Earth to Y/N?”

You must’ve seemed lost in thought for too long because your nostrils suddenly fill up with a vanilla and musk scent, making you snap out of your filthy mind. Seokjin has leaned into your body, arm reaching across your chest as he tugs the seatbelt from your side over your torso and clicks it into the buckle.

Your breath is stuck in your airways as you freeze at his proximity, your palms growing sweaty again. “Oh, sorry.”

You don’t look at him as he leans back into his seat and buckles his own seatbelt, surprisingly not commenting on your apology. He presses a button on his dashboard, making the car roar to life before he places his hand on the back of your headrest and looks over his shoulder.

He starts backing out of the parking spot despite having a camera right above the car radio. Old habits die hard, you suppose.

You glance at him for a moment but immediately regret it. He is so fucking hot.

He must’ve sensed your eyes on him because for a moment, he makes eye contact with you whilst he’s still reversing out of the parking slot. There’s an unreadable look in his eyes as his eyes briefly meet yours before he looks back over his shoulder again.

He didn’t smile or anything, just glanced into your eyes and returned his attention to backing out of the parking spot.

Heat instantly rushes to your face and you turn your head to look out the window on your side, forcing yourself to not make the same mistake of gawking at him again. Not when you’re so close to him, at least.

He turns on the car radio after asking you for your home address and typing it into the built-in navigation system of his car before he accelerates and starts driving to your destination.

“Not to pry but are you and Taehyung…” His voice gets quieter as it reaches the end of his sentence, eyes still looking at the road in front of him.

“Huh?” You turn your head to look at him, mesmerized by his amazing side profile.

He slightly turns his head to look at you for a moment before returning his attention back to the road, a look on his face as if to tell you it’s obvious what he’s hinting at.

“Oh,” you say as you realize what he’s implying. You shake your head quickly and blurt out, “No, not at all.”

He only nods to your response, eyes unwaveringly staring ahead of him.

The rest of the car drive is uncomfortably quiet, the soft pop music playing is the only thing that’s keeping this silence between you two from being excruciating.

Luckily, the drive isn’t long and you’re in front of your apartment complex in less than 10 minutes. As you reach for your purse and unbuckle your seatbelt, Seokjin has already gotten out of the car and jogged to your side to open the door for you.

He holds his hand out for you to take and you do, hoping to the Lord that he can’t tell how sweaty your palms are. You swing your legs out of the car, placing your heels onto the concrete with a loud click as you get out. You let go of his hand to smooth out your skirt but really, you’re just wiping the sweat off your palms.

He locks his car with a button on the car keys and follows behind you as you fish your keys out of your purse, opening the door to the entrance that leads to the lobby.

The walk up the stairs is silent aside from your obnoxious heels clicking against the tiles, making you wince with each step you take. You make it to your front door and unlock, walking in and kicking your heels off. There’s a significant difference in your height now but he doesn’t comment on it and instead neatly places his shoes by the door as he closes it behind him.

You lead him to your living room and motion for him to sit down while you go and warm up the leftovers.

“This is a nice place,” he muses as he sits down on your couch, looking around to scan the room.

You quietly thank him as you disappear into the kitchen, taking the container out of the fridge and pulling open the cupboard to grab a plate for him.

This is starting to feel like it’s going to be a long night.

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With the empty plate of lasagna remnants on your coffee table, you’re seated right across from Seokjin who is on the couch opposite of you. The two of you had some small talk about work and cooking recipes whilst he ate but the silence has been going on for about 2 minutes now and it’s becoming uncomfortable.

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, he speaks up, “You don’t have to sit so far, you know. I don’t bite,” he says with a teaseful tone. “Unless you want me to.”

The words that leave his mouth so smoothly single handedly knock the oxygen out of your lungs, cause a twitch in your lips and bring a raise to your brows. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from his face, his smug face. Did he drink earlier?

“Did you have something to drink back in that restaurant?” you nervously chuckle, clasping your hands together to stop yourself from fidgeting in front of him.

His shoulders bounce with the way he chuckles, slightly shaking his head. “Would I have driven us here if I drank?”

It almost sounds like he’s mocking you and heat starts bubbling in your stomach at the way the words rolled off his tongue so smugly.

“What’s all this then?” you ask, waving your hand in a circular motion in front of you, aimed at him.

He tilts his head to the side in question. He silently reaches for his glass of water and a small smirk creeps onto his lips when he speaks after taking a sip and says, “Elaborate?”

The bubbling heat in your stomach has seeped to the rest of your body, burning in your veins all the way to the tips of your fingers and toes.

You stare at him for a moment longer before saying, “This façade. This persona or attitude you’ve got going on.”

The barely-there smirk stays glued on his lips, his hooded eyes make his gaze feel that much more penetrating.

“Façade?” he repeats, bringing his hand up to rub his chin, the silver watch around his wrist glaring in the light coming from your corner lamp.

“Yeah, you’re nothing like how you are at work.”

He slowly nods to your words, a glimmer of mischief flickering in his eyes that have gone from pools of honey brown to bottomless pits of jet black. “What makes you think this is the façade and not the persona I got going on at work?”

His words process in your mind but you can’t bring yourself to understand what he’s saying. Is he implying he’s always like this and the way he is at work is just an act?

“Why would you put on an act at work?” You lean further back into your couch, crossing your arms over your chest as you swing your right leg over your left to keep yourself from bouncing your leg up and down in anxiety.

“Because those people don’t need to know me.”

Your frown deepens at his words. “Those people? We’re your colleagues, Seokjin.”

“Yeah?” he muses, placing his elbows on his knees as he leans forward, hovering his face over the coffee table that’s separating the two of you. “Tell me, if you told them that you were with me right now, what would their reaction be?”

His question shuts you up right away.

Aside from Taehyung who already knows, your co-workers would most likely tease you. You wouldn’t call Seokjin the punching bag of your workplace but he’s definitely not favored in any way. They’ll usually have him do the work that they don’t want to do, treat him like he’s not there. You’re the only one that treats him nicely.

You press your lips into a thin line as your eyes visibly soften at his question, a guilty look on your pretty face.

“Yeah,” he mumbles as he leans back into the sofa, thighs spread and hands on his upper thighs. With a curt nod, he arrogantly adds, “That’s what I thought.”

You swallow thickly and look away from him, uncrossing your arms as you subconsciously fidget with your fingers again, picking at your manicured nails.

You can’t blame him, you suppose. You think about all the times people have dismissed him or dropped their load on his desk without another word, the vivid memories making your heart sink into your stomach.

“Why are you so nervous?” His question makes you snap your head in his direction, eyes slowly widening at him. How did he know?

You blurt out, “I’m not nervous. What makes you think that?”

“Why were your hands sweaty when I helped you get out of the car?”

Your mind travels at lightning speed to come up with a rebuttal but all you can say is, “I’ve always had clammy hands.” Dirty liar.

You try to keep eye contact with him to seem assertive but your pathetic heartbeat quickens once he rises to his feet and walks around the coffee table, toward you.

You shoot up in your seat, uncrossing your legs as he closes the distance between you two. You tilt your chin up, glancing at him through the pretty lashes you chose today as he stands before you, menacingly looming over your body.

“May I?” he asks, holding out his right hand but you have no idea what he’s asking of you.

You slowly and confusingly hold your left hand out to him but he gently turns your hand over by your wrist so the back of your hand faces down and your palm faces up. The tips of his fingers softly graze your palm before moving across as he presses the tips of his index and middle finger against the center of your wrist, right under the length of your thumb.

You stare at his fingers on your skin during the process but still being confused, you look back up at him.

The tension in the air can be cut with a dull butter knife.

His eyes aren’t on your face, instead, they’re still glued to where his fingers are pressed to your skin. His eyebrows are pinched together and he looks in a deep state of concentration. If you believed in magic, you’d swear he’s casting a spell on you right now.

Then, he subtly nods and lets go of your hand, watching how it flops back down to your lap. You continue to stare up at him, the dryness in your throat moving up and spreading throughout your mouth.

“Hands sweaty, heart rate quickened, breath heavy, fingers fidgeting, forcing yourself to look into my eyes,” he lists and then concludes, “You’re nervous.”

You realize he just took your damn pulse to prove his point.

He backs away and silently makes his way back to the opposite couch with a certain smugness, a clear indicator of his satisfaction at victory as he drops his ass back onto the couch. You stare at him with your mouth agape, a slight pinch between your brows and your mind racing with words to say.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” you start, “I’m confused. I don’t know what to make of you right now. You’re confusing me.” You finally find the coursge to speak up but your voice is quiet, your words almost incoherent.

“Well,” he pauses, “I don’t really owe you an explanation.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, a bit taken aback by his bluntness. “Can’t tell if you’re being an asshole or just bold,” you murmur, wondering if he’s just saying this to get a reaction out of you or if he’s just like this. He can’t be like this. This is not Seokjin.

Is it? Did you ever really bother to get to know him better?

He simply shrugs his broad shoulders and replies, “Either way, it seems like you like it.”

His words are like a punch to the gut, making you shoot your eyes straight at him as you clear your throat and lean forwards to act like you didn’t just hear him. “Excuse me?”

He starts, “You invited me over for food after pitying me. I’m done eating, I’ve been saying stuff that has clearly struck a nerve and yet you’re not telling me to get out.” His eyes scan the room for a moment before settling on you again. “Clearly something is keeping me here.”

Your glossy lips part and your eyes widen in disbelief, incoherent words and sentences bubbling up the back of your throat but never actually making it out of your mouth.

What the hell?

You clear your throat to speak again, “I’m just polite. And curious.”

“Curious?” he chuckles, “Don’t you know curiosity killed the cat?” The joke rolls off his tongue with another chuckle, making your stomach tingle with something you can’t put your finger on.

Curiosity killed the cat.

(Read: The cat being your pussy.)

His confidence, his look, his posture, everything is making him so much hotter than you’ve ever seen him before.

As if you needed it, your mind suddenly jumps to the vivid image of the golden XL letters on his box of condoms.

Maybe you should listen to Taehyung.

You ignore his smug remark as you eye his empty glass of water, nodding toward it before you ask, “Would you like something else?”

“Depends,” he says with an air of nonchalance, apparent by the smug shrug of his shoulders.

“On?”

“Whether you’re on that list.”

His flirtatious comment has your stomach doing backflips and a surge of heat shoots right down to your core. You hate how all he had to do was arrogantly imply he’d drink you up – no pun intended – and it’d have your panties sticking to your sex.

That’s it. You decide it’s time to bite back.

Just pretend it’s timid Seokjin from work, you think to yourself.

You get up from the couch and pour some more water into his glass. He reaches for the glass but you surprise him by wrapping your own hand around his glass before he can, bringing it up to your lips and taking a sip from his glass whilst keeping eye contact with him. After you’ve swallowed, you lower the glass back onto the table, leaving a stain of your lipstick on the rim.

He watches you with an arrogant raise to his brows and a faint smirk on those lips that you’d love to feel on your skin.

You plop back down onto the couch where you were previously seated before you say, “You’ve gone from bold asshole to bold flirt in the span of 2 minutes.” Your shoulders slouch and you hope you’re coming across as unbothered and casual.

“No harm in a bit of fun, right?” he jokes, a cocky tilt to his head as he continues to stare at you, reaching for the same glass and drinking from it.

“Sure, but where’s the fun in it if it’s all talk?” you quip.

Fuck. You can’t believe you just said that, your heart has shot up into your throat the moment the words left your mouth.

He simply smiles at your words before speaking up. “Do you actually believe that?” he says, his voice neutral and his expression almost mocking you.

You cross your arms and nonchalantly shrug, one of your hands coming up to allow your fingers to play with the earring in your earlobe before you part your lips to say, “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

He squints his eyes at you for a moment before he dryly chuckles, shaking his head as he looks down at the glass in his hand absentmindedly.

After a few moments of silence, he places the glass back down with a thud. He looks back up at you through his brows, his hand coming up to his face in order to push some of his bangs out of the outer-corner of his eyes with his fingers.

“If you want me to come over there and fuck the shit out of you on that couch, you should just say that. Don’t beat around the bush.”

Fuck.

You force the yelp that’s threatening to erupt from your throat to go back down by forcefully swallowing it down, a knot forming in your stomach and a tingle in your panties. Fuck, you’re so happy you did all that scrubbing in the shower before you left for the restaurant.

“Aren’t you the one that’s beating around the bush?” you quip, watching as his eyebrows raise in surprise and you’re glad you’ve caught him off guard.

“Hm?” he hums in question.

“Really? ‘Depends whether you’re on that list’?” you repeat his words before continuing, “If you want to come over here and fuck me, you should just say that. Don’t beat around the bush.” You shoot right back at him, satisfaction swimming in your stomach at your quick comeback.

His nonchalant response is immediate. “I want to fuck you.”

Well.

Your mouth dries out like you just scooped a spoonful of cinnamon powder into your mouth in the middle of the scorching hot Sahara.

You clear your throat and gulp, gaze trailing to the wall on your side. You see him staring at you in your peripheral vision and you can just sense the smug smirk on his lips.

But you’re not going to let him win.

You finally decide to speak up. You say, “Well, what are you waiting for? Come over here, then.”

He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, moving the wet muscle across his back teeth before rising to his feet.

Oh, fuck.

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⇠ PREV. ⋆ MASTERLIST ⋆ NEXT ⇢

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