#for me the point has to be 'would that be fucked up or what'
Text
introducing... bitchy reader!
rafe never pays attention to sarah’s friends. new yet similar faces seem to make the rounds through tannyhill every week; the place was a revolving door. the occasional familiar girl would say hi to him, which would of course be ignored since he doesn’t care enough to say hi back.
so naturally, you become the exception to his little rule.
you and sarah are on opposite sides of the counter, flicking through magazines and taking sips from overpriced iced coffees, when he overhears a conversation that makes him stop and listen.
“-and he’s not like topper, like, at all. he’s really nice and actually talks to me instead of at me-”
“wow,” he hears you say, dragging out the syllables and sarcasm dripping from your voice. “such standards you have. no, really.”
“shut up. he’s totally sweet-” sarah says, but you interrupt her.
“he’s, like, totally a dirty pogue.” that catches his attention—not just the fact that there’s something going on between his sister and some pogue, but the way you say the sentence, how the words sound coming from your mouth.
you nearly sound like rafe.
“that is so rude-”
“what? i’m just being honest. i’d be a bad friend if i didn’t tell you the truth.”
“what truth?” his sister questions.
“that you’re settling for some pogue boy because you’re bored of top. i get it. if i was dating him i’d be bored enough to fuck a pogue too.”
rafe cringes at the topic even though your word choice makes him laugh—topper is boring, though he doesn’t think he’s heard anyone else bring it up until now. he steps back into the doorway, watching the two of you. the crass words are coming from you, dressed in a sunny yellow dress and tapping pretty pink nails against the counter.
“hey! i’m not bored-”
“you mean, you like hearing about his boat and golf every single day?”
“he has other hobbies! like-”
“like what?” you pause, watching sarah’s expression before giving her a pointed look—a look that says told you so. “who are you really trying to convince right now?” you flip through another magazine, finding something that must have caught your eye. you lift it to show sarah—some pinked striped pajamas and fuzzy slippers on the pages. “don’t i totally need this?”
“shut up.”
“that’s what someone says when they know the other person’s right,” you say with a mocking smile, setting down the magazine. he’s watching the whole thing—you’re funnier than he would have thought. “and if you change your mind just go to country club. top’s dime a dozen there.” the two of you start laughing.
“i’m not gonna change my mind-”
“that’s what you said when you started dating topper,” you say it deadpan, and rafe holds back a laugh.
“-because he’s really nice. he’s a good guy.”
“ugh, sarah. making out with a dirty pogue at a bonfire is one thing. you’re talking like you’re in love. get a grip.”
“what? what’s so wrong with that?” sarah asks, taking a sip of her drink.
“because you can’t be in love with someone you have to hide your valuables around.” that’s when he decides to walk in—sarah sputtering on her drink while you roll your eyes.
“and what’re you girls talkin’ about?” rafe asks, and two sets of eyes turn to look at him. you look at him a little confused—in all the years you’ve known sarah and times you’ve been at tannyhill, rafe’s never once spoken to you.
“i don’t think it’s any of your business-” his sister says, and then he rolls his eyes. you interrupt right away.
“sarah, it’s okay.” you turn to rafe, looking right at him and leaning in a little like you’re gonna tell in something. “it’s really not any of your business.”
blank face, trying to be annoyed but not actually feeling annoyed, he stares back at you. his sister laughs stupidly, heading into the living room. she leaves you alone with rafe in the kitchen, but as you grab your drink and try to follow sarah, rafe says something.
“y’know i heard that shit you were sayin’. you’re funny, kid.” you turn back to look at rafe.
“thanks. i wasn’t joking.”
“yeah. good. at least one of my sister’s friends has ‘er head screwed straight.” you laugh, but the look on your face says you didn’t think it was funny.
“are you trying to compliment me? by insulting all my other friends?” he wasn’t expected that retort.
“no. no, i-”
“maybe if your friend wasn’t such a shit boyfriend, sarah wouldn’t be talking to some pogue. but hey, what do i know?”
“hey, kid, i-”
“don’t call me that.” you roll your eyes, walking to the living room without even glancing back at rafe. he calls out after you again.
“so have you?” you pause, turning again.
“have i what?”
“made out with some pogue at the bonfire.” he shrugs. “that’s what you said to sarah, isn’t it?”
“again, how is that any of your business?” you ask, cocking your head at him.
“that’s not an answer.”
“i don’t owe you an answer. but for the record, no, i haven’t. i actually have standards.” he doesn’t miss the remark and what it says about his sister.
“good,” rafe says, looking at you. his eyes rake over your body before he can stop it—your short hem, the jewelry dangling on your wrists and neck, the heels even though you hadn’t gone anywhere.
“shut up. weirdo.” you walk to the living room where sarah’s waiting for you.
rafe’s gonna have a hard time staying away from you.
509 notes
·
View notes
Text
KITTY KAT — art donaldson + reader : art has a tendency to show up late to your lessons.
tags: mdni, tennis lessons, coach!art donaldson, p in v sex, fingering, art is kind of an asshole, cheating (not on reader)
a/n: sorry to tashi… this goes out to my dear @murdrdocs
thirty minutes ago.
art donaldson was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago, your teeth grit against each other, foot tapping impatiently against the concrete floor below you.
art was a sweet guy, sure, but his time management was beyond infuriating. it almost made you feel like he thought himself above you, like you weren’t worth his time.
“one to talk,” you mumble to yourself, dragging your racket on the ground, “rich from the guy who was coached by his wife.”
ahem.
you spin around, and of course, he’s standing right there, looking the same as he always does. his dirty blonde hair was messed up and falling over his eyebrows, blue eyes, with a mix of brown, staring directly at you with an almost amused expression.
you blink at him, once, twice.
a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, “sorry for being late.”
it sounds condescending, like he would never actually mean it, especially not after what he heard, it felt like a sort of karma for what you were previously saying about him.
and he knows that, of course he does, so he masks it with a sense of sweetness, one that would typically gaslight people into thinking they’ve been forgiven, but you know better.
you’ve been coached by art for a while now, and his little habits became far too predictable. this was odd, though, you couldn’t make out the glint in his eye, especially when you mumble a, “sorry, i didn’t mean—“
“let’s get started, yeah?” art cuts in, bitter, yet his voice still sounded like it was dipped in honeysuckle.
he whisks right past you with that same, tugged up smirk, he reeked of rich cologne and mint.
your lips press together and you silently, albeit ashamed, nod in agreement.
maybe silence will earn points back from your coach.
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
silence did not earn anything.
art served hard, hit the ball hard, it was as if he wanted to make the ball break through your racket and hit you square in the face. he clearly took your miniscule words personally, and he was testing you, trying to break you down, to see how much you could take until your bones turned soft and you felt like giving up.
the first time you called a pause, art smiled, “don’t tell me you’re giving up.”
“pause,” you repeat through heaved breaths, sweat sticking to your skin underneath the relentless sun. art had that same playful look in his eyes that he always did, he knew that what he was doing was working, he knew that he was getting under your skin, and as cruel as it sounds, he really did enjoy it.
if you ever were to ask him about it, he’d just shrug and say it’s all a part of the practice, it always happens in tennis, especially professional, he’s just preparing you. but deep down, he really just wanted to say that he was doing it for those reasons but for his own personal pleasures, karma comes in many forms, but art picks the harshest form first.
he watches you drink water with a desperate urgency, stifling his own chuckles, “you sure you’re okay?”
“‘m fine,” you speak after gulping down the last drop, finally satisfied, “let’s keep going.”
art’s brows furrow ever so slightly, but as soon as you’re back to being ready, he rolls the tennis ball in his hand a little, observing it, before throwing it up in the air and sending it your way. he’s so casual with every hit, despite his grunts and the way his nose scrunches whenever ball meets racket, he makes it look like it’s nothing.
to make it even worse, he starts trying to conversate between passes, “you know—“ smack! another grunt leaves his lips, “it’s really rude to—“ smack! “speak about people behind their—“ smack! “fuck.. backs.”
you’re so busy trying to decipher his words you almost miss the next hit, but thankfully you snap out of the trance quick enough to hit it last minute, which he chuckles at and quickly sends it back.
smack! “‘m sorry, art, really—“ your shoes scratch against the concrete below, smack! “i was being very—“ smack! “childish, i apologize.”
he hums, content with your apologies, but still not outwardly saying he forgives you, instead his hits start to soften, he’s less trying to kill you with the ball and now rather trying to actually play tennis. “you’re all good—“ he confirms, smack! “just make it up to me, yeah?”
ball meets floor, his words had completely caught you off guard, and you missed your hit on the ball he sent your way. you felt almost stupid, standing there, staring at him and trying to decipher what he meant by making it up to him.
and of course, he didn’t elaborate, he never did, he simply just picked up another ball, smiled at you, and said, “ready?”
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
art said he forgave you, right?
ever since that day, he’s been acting.. off. he was more focused on your figure now, not in a crude way, but in a way where he wanted you to position yourself correctly when playing. he watches you serve the ball, then his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek and he stands, “hey, hey, wait a second— your uh… your stance is wrong.”
“it is?” it was the fifth time he’s corrected you, today, and it’s safe to say you were getting annoyed, he picked up on the bitterness of your tone as he approached you.
“‘ts not my fault, kitty cat,” he shrugged simply, noticing the way your eyes narrow in frustration at his nickname, he only smiles. he leans in behind you, “may i?” his hands are ghosting over your arms from behind.
“whatever helps,” you remark.
“good,” it’s softly spoken at the shell of your ear, making you swallow thick, his fingers wrap around your wrist, other one holding your fingers grip on the racket’s handle. his grip is tight, yet gentle at the same time, veins flexing against his flesh with every movement as he helps you move into the right position. “just gotta.. do it like this,” he’s still whispering against your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.
once he’s satisfied with your position, which is far too quick for your liking, he backs off and lets you serve the ball again. he smiles once he’s gotten what he’s wanted, “perfect.”
eventually, after a while of hitting the ball, you decided to take a break. there was a silence between you and art, a tension you couldn’t place, you had nothing to blame it on, nothing to apologize for, and he constantly looked like he was trying to say something indescribable.
“hey,” he starts, before tugging his bottom lip under his tongue for a mere second before continuing, “remember when i said you had to make it up to me?”
you stare at him, curious, “yeah, of course.”
“you know,” his hands smooth over each other, skin underneath his right eye twitching as his pupils dilate in thought, “i’ve been having a.. problem, lately.”
“with tennis?”
“nono,” he laughs nervously, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “it’s personal, y’know? well— not entirely, since ‘m telling you, but uh— actually, nevermind.”
𝜗𝜚 ⊹ ‧₊˚ 🎾
you and art hadn’t discussed much after the last meet, you found yourself standing in the court yet again, whilst he was no short of an hour late at this point. you wanted to ask him what his deal is lately, what his problem is, but he wasn’t even here to be questioned. it was almost ridiculous, like he was toying with you.
“i like your skirt,” it comes out of nowhere, but it’s the same, smooth voice that art holds.
yet again, you find yourself spinning around to meet him, he’s closer, now, clearly eyeing you— but that’s.. weird, is it not? he has a wife, he shouldn’t be complimenting your obviously short skirt, or eyeing you like that, or wishing to tell you things that he had apparently not told anyone else because it’s personal. but who are you to question his relationship? maybe he’s just.. being nice, really.
“thank you,” you offer, nice, short, sweet.
he rolls his shoulder, meeting your eyes, flickering his gaze to your lips for a mere second, then saying nothing and walking by. rich cologne and mint. that’s what wafts into your senses immediately, as if it was some sort of distraction from his odd behaviors.
“do you always call people kitty cat?” you eventually ask him, it was something you’d been wondering, truly, especially since you’ve never been called that before.
“to pretty girls with an attitude, yeah,” art says it so casually.
“like your wife?”
“like you.”
art corrected you.
he corrected you, and his correction didn’t annoy you like how they always did, it made your stomach churn in a way you couldn’t decipher, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. you liked it, maybe, but isn’t that so sickening? art seems to think no big deal of his own words, as he doesn’t even react, so you try to be nonchalant about it as well.
the whole entire test match you play with him, he has a certain glint in his eye, his grunts are louder, his shorts look tighter, he looks like he’s having some sort of reaction to playing tennis, to playing tennis with you. your tongue runs along your lips between breaks, noticing the way his eyes linger on it, the way his pupils widen at the shine of saliva over your lips with each swipe.
at the third break, art was convinced you were doing this on purpose.
“why do you keep doing that?” he asks as he’s walking over to grab his water bottle, right where you’re sitting on the concrete floor. you blink up at him, watching him hover the bottle near his lips and squirt the water into his mouth. did he always look this good when sweaty?
gosh, maybe you’re just tired, maybe your mind is just foggy.
“what?” you frown, confused.
“licking your lips,” he speaks after swallowing the water, towering over you. his muscles were nearly bursting out of his white t-shirt with every movement, especially when he puts his water bottle down and crosses his arm, head cocking to the side. sweat causes some of his hair strands to stick to his forehead, lips puffy from how much he bites them when playing.
“my lips are dry,” you explain, so simple.
“yeah?” again, another smile, he had to be toying with you, “do you need some other help with that?”
“what do you mean?”
art hums, not explaining anything when he opens his mouth and swipes his thumb along his tongue, moving down to rub the saliva from his tongue onto your lips, memorizing the pillowy soft touch. your eyes widen, slightly, “art, this is—“
“not helping?” art tuts in faux disappointment, mumbling a small, ‘why don’t i..’ before he leans down further, licking his own lips and getting closer and closer until his lips are brushing against yours.
“wrong,” you mumble out, but you sound unsure, like you don’t really believe what you just said, you don’t think this is wrong, you’ve always thought art was attractive, it was his wife that kept your crush on him at bay. you mumble against his lips, “you have a wife, art..”
“do i?” he smirks against your lips, a near chuckle slipping out, “i must’ve forgotten.”
“art,” it sounds like a warning, but again, you wanted nothing less than for his lips to fall against yours right now.
“make it up to me, yeah? remember that?” his hand moves to hold your cheek, tipping your head up at him, eyes meeting yours in such close proximity, “i’ve got some marriage problems right now, so why don’t you play wife for me, hm?”
you nod at him, ever so slightly, he clocks it immediately, and that’s his que. his eyes flutter shut, and he’s leaning in only a mere centimeter before his lips fall against yours. the kiss is soft at first, sweet, new, but then art starts taking the lead, and it quickly becomes something on the faint lines of cannibalism, he kissed you like he wanted to eat you, like he loved you.
when he said he wanted you to play wife, he wasn’t lying.
he pries your lips open with his own before his tongue makes it’s way inside your mouth, tasting the peppermint of your gum on your own tongue, memorizing the noisy breaths that leave your mouth and move into his. your nails are quick to run along his arms, making him pull back to speak, “hold on, kitty cat.”
“you call your wife kitty cat?” you watch him peel off his sweaty shirt from his skin.
he tosses the shirt to the side, exhaling a breath that showed he hated the feeling of the wet fabric on his skin, “mm, i call you kitty cat, ‘nd you’re playing my wife, so.”
“right,” you agree, letting his cold hands brush against your skin when he takes your clothes off of you, of course looking at you for approval beforehand, which you nod to.
“did you start wearing shorter skirts on purpose?” art questions when his fingers reach the waistband of your skirt, ever so slowly dipping underneath.
“no, ‘course not,” you speak breathlessly, feeling his fingers move under your underwear as well until his fingertips meet your clit. you swallow thick, lashes fluttering as he starts moving his fingers in an almost cruel slowness.
“look at me,” he whispers a simple command, free hand holding your chin and forcing you to look at him. his fingers move further down, immediately feeling how wet you are, he chuckles in surprise, “god, you’re this wet for a married man, huh?”
“for my husband,” you mumble out, playing the part.
“that’s right,” his middle finger circles your entrance for a second before ever so slowly dipping it inside. he watches your lips fall apart, the way your eyes get glossed over, the way your hips push up against his finger. “needy.”
he doesn’t take long to push another finger in, letting go of your chin so he could guide your hand to his clothed cock, hard and pushing against his flimsy shorts. as soon as you start rubbing his dick through the fabric, his breath shudders slightly, as if he’s been waiting too long for like, as if he hasn’t had sexual pleasure in weeks.
soon enough, only a mere minute or two in of foreplay, art gets antsy and he has to have his dick inside of you, he pries his fingers from your cunt and takes your skirt off next. “lay down for me, yeah?” he smiles at the fact that you do it immediately, even spreading your legs for him.
he hisses at the feeling when his bare knees meet the concrete floor below, harsh on his skin, he tugs his shorts and boxers down ever so slightly until his cock is finally freed. you inhale sharply upon seeing it, he had a big dick. he spits in his hand, coating his dick with a grunt before he finally lines himself up with your entrance.
“ready?” he hushes out.
“yeah, yeah,” you’re barely able to finish the last yeah before his dick is moving into you, his nose scrunching from the tightness of your walls around him, it’s like you were purposefully squeezing his cock with an attempt to milk him dry already.
“fuck,” he grunts out, pulling back, then moving back in, earning a pathetic moan from your lips. it sounds like music to his ears, so he keeps going, his thrusting was slow at first, gentle, kind— but just like the test matches, or the kiss, he gets hungry, and he wants more.
his thrusts turn relentless almost immediately, maybe even like he was taking out some sorts of sexual frustrations out on your poor cunt. whimpers, whines, moans, all of those leave your lips, matching up with the grunts and the occasional whimper from his own mouth as well.
sex was intoxicating for art, and there was something so dangerous, so forbidden about this, you weren’t really his wife, he was married to another woman, he was solely your coach. some sick part of art loves that, maybe that’s why he leans down and starts nipping at your neck, sucking at the delicate skin until maroon and blackberry starts blooming on the blank canvas.
“art, oh my god,” you moan out, hands moving to scratch at his bare back, and maybe art should be smart enough to tell you not to leave marks, but he lets your nails dig in as his thrusts get harsher, surely drawing blood, or at least noticeable scratches.
in fact, the feeling of you tearing into his skin only makes his orgasm come on faster, soon enough wracking his body and making his hips stutter. he keeps going though, despite the overstimulation that makes him pathetically whine softly, just until you’ve reached your own orgasm.
he pulls out, panting, smirking down at you, “thanks, kitty cat.”
#୨୧ (jules yapping) .ᐟ#art donaldson#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#mike faist#mike faist x reader#mike faist x you#art donaldson smut#art donaldson challengers#challengers#challengers smut#mike faist smut#mike faist challengers
526 notes
·
View notes
Text
more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve
In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.
masterlist - playlist
fem!y/n x lando norris
warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.
requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things
part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven
“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up.
Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you.
Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up.
“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further.
“What happened?” Oscar asks.
“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs.
+++
“Lan?” “Yeah?”
“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different.
Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first.
“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”
“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions.
“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning?
“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you?
“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”
Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him.
“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you.
You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.
“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway.
“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.”
“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks.
“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”
Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily.
“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”
With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone.
He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right.
+++
“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”
“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”
Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him.
“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.”
“But.”
“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.”
Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this.
“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.”
He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself?
Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you.
“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him.
“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.”
“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.
“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.
When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him.
You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t.
“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.”
“Why?” You ask him.
“Because we’re going to talk.”
“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”
“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”
You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.
The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore.
The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess.
It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you.
“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore.
He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string.
Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage.
“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you.
“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.
“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right.
“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.
“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?”
“Yes,” you agree with him.
“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.
“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”
Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out.
“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says.
“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando.
“You,” Lando chuckles.
You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him.
“Lan,” you softly speak up.
“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”
“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?
“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you.
“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”
You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.
After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…
“You want that?” Lando asks you confused.
You only show him a small nod.
“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?”
“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”
“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”
“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando.
“Hope?” He asks confused.
“Hope that you like me back.”
Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm.
“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?”
Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can.
When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back?
You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.”
“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression.
“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states.
“Okay boyfriend,” you reply.
“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again.
+++
The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you.
“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him.
You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.
Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you.
“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”
“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said.
“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.”
Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”
Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.
“Okay.”
a/n;
that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story
i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs
taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc
taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess @trinity2058 @shy4turcs @moonlight-girls-posts @xjval @saachiep81 @leclercdream @adalynneva @swiftiedrafts @oscahpastry @customsbyjcg-blog @idontcare011 @f1fantasys @emyladia @f1fantasys @oscahpastry @chrissiekitty19-blog
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfiction#ln4#lando norris imagine#formula one#f1#lando norris imagines#lando norris smut
594 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
#f1#formula one#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader smut#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 x reader
404 notes
·
View notes
Text
Camera Caught- Matt Sturniolo
Summary: you accidentally left some hickeys on matt’s neck and the fans catch it, start making edits, and matt “punishes” you
Warnings: SMUT, degradation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral (female receiving), P in V, Unprotected sex, praising, slight crying.
A/N: I LOVE YOU ALL ENJOYY
PSA: I GIVE NO RIGHTS TO COPY MY WORK OR USE MY WORK FOR “INSPIRATION”
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Matt and I’s relationship has been very very private, we've been trying to keep it that way till we both collectively agreed to go public. Matt was down in the garage filming for a Friday video and I was endlessly scrolling on TikTok, I came across this edit of Matt, I didn't think much of it till i saw the comments.
Mattscupsupremacy: THE HICKEY?! WHO IS SHE?? MATTS A FREAKY GAL
Chrissypoohmylover: UHM MATTHEW?? what a freaky man.. she’s one lucky girl to be getting that fire dick
Nickismyqueen: WHY IS NO ONE POINTING OUT THE FACT HES NOT EVEN TRYING TO COVER IT UP??
Yamother6629: we lost another one girls… Funeral at my place at 6 pm tmr 😔💔
Thefourthtriplet5239: MATT SEEMED SO VANILLA.. who would ever guess that man is kinky?
“No no no” I say panicking out loud and immediately jumping out of bed and running through the house and busting the door open to the garage where Nick, Matt, and Chris are barging into the garage which sends the boys into an immediate panic
“Okay so you can edit this out of the video but it's an emergency,” I say out of breath.
“Girl go the fuck on, you said it’s an emergency, spill let’s go” Nick says snapping his fingers.
“Okay, patience, so I was scrolling through TikTok like normally waiting for you guys to finish filming and I scroll across this Matt edit,” I say trying to find the edit on my phone.
“Y/N how many times do I have to tell you to stop watching edits of me, I'm right here no need to fangirl over me,” Matt says with a sense of cockyness in his voice.
“No no hold on it gets better, so I scroll through the comments cause you know it's funny watching as the 12-year-olds talk about you being their ‘baby’-” start before Chris cut me off
“GET TO THE FUCKING POINT YAPPER,” Chris says throwing his hands in the air
“Says the one who goes on about putting a literal tit milk-drinking infant in the backseat of a car with no car seat. So let's not talk about her yapping” nick defends.
“ANYWAYS, Matt you forgot to cover your hickeys from the other night and everyone knows about it now, cause when you moved out of frame your hoodie must have come down, and there are edits and people calling you ‘vanilla’ whatever the hell that means, and like everyone is wondering who the girl is and I'm like panicking now,” I say with panic in my voice “I know you weren't ready to go public but everyone is like freaking the fuck out” I continue.
“Fuck, I thought the hoodie was a good cover” matt sighs “look its fine well figure it out after I'm done filming just go back inside and calm the hell down” he gives me a quick peck on my forehead and shutting the door of the car.
A couple of minutes later I got a text from matt, normally he does send me the occasional ‘i love you, almost done filming’ message but this one was a little different.
Matty B Rapz 💍
you’re in big trouble for getting us caught
i hope you ain’t tired cause you’re in for a long night
This wasn't out of the normal for Matt to be rough with me but over text? This is new, but I love it. I could feel myself getting soaked at all the possible ways Matt could fuck me, all the positions, thinking of all the ways in which he could make me cum.
After an hour and a half of endless scrolling through TikTok, I can hear the footsteps of Matt through the hallway.
“Hi baby, how was filming?” I say as he walks in the door immediately shutting it and locking it.
“Don't ‘baby’ me, strip,” he says harshly as his eyes darken with lust.
A smirk appeared on my lips, and moved off the bed walking towards him as I placed my phone down on the bedside table and slowly and teasingly removed my pants and shirt leaving me in my light pink lingerie set that I knew drove him insane, the way it hugged my curves, pushed my Brests up with a small delicate flower in the middle, and my underwear that sat and hung onto my hips with another small flower in the middle of it.
“So fucking sexy,” Matt says under his breath causing a light shade of pink to appear on my cheeks.
Matt wraps his arms around my torso and unclips my bra letting my breasts fall and the straps of my bra fall off my arms. He lightly pushes me back so I'm sitting on our shared bed as he places a deep and passionate kiss on my lips.
I yearn for more of his lips but he pulls away from me and starts trailing light kisses down my jaw and to my neck and sucking harshly on my neck so we have matching marks on my neck and soft moans escaping my lips.
“Since you had to go and get us caught,” he starts before sucking harsher in my neck in a pattern this time. “Everyone's gonna know who you belong to now” he pulls away walking back a couple of steps to admire the marks he left on my neck.
‘M’
His initial was spelled out on my neck.
“And you're not gonna cover that up. Got it?” he spits walking towards me and wrapping his hand around my neck.
“Yes, Matt” I whisper out
“Good fucking girl” he removes his hand from my neck and pushes me down so my back is now on the bed flat.
He lowers his body down, basically on his knees, and he leaves kisses down my stomach before kissing over my clothed pussy and a soft whimper comes out of my lips.
Using his teeth he guides my underwear off my legs and throws them on the floor with a smirk plastered on his face.
His face between my legs was always a sight for sore eyes, never failed to turn me on the way his blue eyes always stared at me through his eyelashes. He places small kisses around my thighs eventually making his way down to my dripping pussy and placing kisses everywhere around it but where I need him the most.
“Matt, please” I plead.
“What are you begging for? Use that filthy mouth of yours and tell me what you want” he says harshly.
“I need your mouth, please” i whine.
He smirks and uses his tongue to move up and down my folds collecting my juices he lets out a groan as the taste of my pussy touches his tongue. His lips attach to my clit sucking harshly on it.
“FUCK MATT” My back arches and my eyes roll back basically seeing my brain.
His tongue explores every inch of me as he keeps a steady gaze on me and how my body reacts to his mouth. His fingers trail into my begging hole that's clenched around the air begging to be fulfilled curling his slim fingers upward reaching a spot I could never reach by myself.
“MATT” I scream out as My thighs close his head in.
“Legs stay open” he mutters through my pussy.
His fingers now moving at a pace that's driving me absolutely insane, his muted moans against my pussy is only turning me on more.
“close” i breathe out trying not to strain my voice.
“hold it,” he says muttering against me as his nose flicks my clit digging his face deeper into my pussy. He was almost moaning as much as I was, typically he didn't even care if he cums, he gets off at watching me come unglued from his mouth or fingers.
“Please” I repeat pleading with matt.
“No, you're gonna hold it and you're gonna show me how much of a good girl you can be” he lifts his head continuing his pace with his fingers.
His gaze never left me, the way my back arched off the bed and my eyes rolled back just at his fingers was always so amusing to him.
“You always look so beautiful wrapped around my fingers,” he says smirking down at me and taking his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to arch his fingers inside me.
“PL-PLEA- CUM” i mutter unable to form a coherent sentence.
“Go ahead baby, let it all out” he coos in my ear in a low raspy voice.
The knot in my stomach snaps, and my orgasm hits me like a bus, my legs shake as my cum drips down into his fingers. he removes his fingers licking off my cum from them.
“Face down ass up, I ain't done with you” he says sternly.
I slowly nod turning around and holding myself up by my elbows taunting my ass around in the air. Matt smirks to himself removes his hoodie, and quickly removes his boxers and pants throwing all his clothes somewhere in the room.
I feel the bed dip down from the weight of his knees behind me. He reaches his arm around to my mouth places his hand below my mouth.
“Spit” he says harshly.
I obey spitting in his hand as he uses my spit to rub around the tip of his cock moving his hand up and down to coat his cock.
Matt aligns himself with my entrance and immediately bottoms out letting a loud groan escape his lips as my hips jerk backward and a loud whine leaks from my lips.
“You think you're so fucking innocent huh? Leaving those fucking hickeys on my neck” he spits thrusting harshly into me gripping onto my hair and pushing my head far into the mattress.
“I-im SO-SORRY” I scream into the mattress.
“Oh, you're sorry? If you were sorry you wouldn't be creaming all over my fucking. dick.” he says thirsting harder to annunciate his last two words as his head hangs low to look down at the white rim that's formed around the base of his cock.
“FUCKK” I whine out with tears starting to form in my eyes from the overstimulation. “CANT- CANT-TAKE” I muffle out as his hand pushes my head farther in the bed.
“You wanted this” he grunts “You take it” his hand travels down my body and starts to toy with my sensitive clit.
“OH BABY-” i scream out as my cervix begins to twitch around his cock signaling how close I was.
“Oh you think you're gonna cum soon?” he taunts rubbing faster on my clit as his thrusts begin getting sloppier.
“Pl-pl-please” I whisper yell to him.
“You're so fucking pathetic” he groans out using both hands and pressing my waist down the bed and rolling his hips into me getting deeper and kissing my cervix with his cock.
My legs began to shake and tremble “CLOSE” i choke out. his grip on my waist loosens up as he leans down and kisses my back.
“let it go, baby, let it all out” With that, the knot in my stomach breaks and I squirt all over the bed leaving a wet mess beneath me. “God damn baby you're so fucking sexy” he leaves small kisses on my neck as his thrusts got even sloppier.
“Oh fuck” he buries his head in my neck and groans as his cum begins to shoot out of him filling my hole of his cum.
He softly pulls out of me rolling me over now laying on my back and gives me a soft peck on the lips.
“Let me clean you up, yeah?” he smiles down at me and I shoot him a small smile back.
He throws on the same pair of sweatpants from earlier and walks softly and carefully to the bathroom wetting a small rag and bringing it back into the room.
“You did amazing, Y/N” he smiles up at me as he carefully runs the warm wash rag down my legs and anywhere else that was covered in cum.
“I am sorry about getting us caught, I know that we didn't want to go public just yet” I softly whisper as he makes his way next to me bringing me into his arms and placing a kiss down on my head.
“Hey, don't worry about it. We'll figure it out in the morning. But for now, just get some sleep," he says, running his fingers through my hair and occasionally kissing my head. We eventually drifted asleep, intertwined with each other.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A/N PT 2 HI LOVES!! IDK how to feel ab this one but i hope you guys enjoyed it! I hope you're doing amazing!! And have an amazing day/night/evening!!
Xoxo
Gabs 💋
#Spotify#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo smut#the sturniolo triplets#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo smut#matthew sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo
337 notes
·
View notes
Text
The fact that radfems spread this post around is actually really interesting--infuriating, but interesting. Because what they've really done here is tell on themselves.
This is the shrimp guy story:
From an anonymous green text called "shrimp saved my life" [emphasis mine]:
>be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel
>one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit
>he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before
>he offers to get me some 53 KB JPG
>throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock
>several shrimp die >realize that I killed them with my apathy
>realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life
>do research, learn about water parameters and so on
>eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths
>notice a female shrimp carrying eggs
>haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade
>the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up
>a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp
>l suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ
>by this point I live and breathe shrimp
>all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos
>l spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products
>quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending
>start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp
>grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out
>relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself
>l see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp
>for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake
>it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs
>cry like a little bitch when I see it
>mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me
>college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp
>shit they're gonna think I'm autistic
>they actually think my shrimp are really cool
>they start inviting me to their social events
>start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart
>l think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew
>We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.
He did address his relationship with women. By finding a hobby and passion and working on himself--"touching grass"--he stepped away from the echo chamber that filled him with all this rage and convinced him women were to blame for all of his problems. As someone once wisely observed, "the cure is going offline and realizing it's just. really not that big a deal."
And that is what radfems have not done, so of course they didn't spot the quiet flashpoint of shrimp guy's personal development within his story.
Edit: it's been brought to my attention that the version of the greentext post I lifted the text from was censored by someone else. My bad for not realizing that, tbh it was done so well I thought shrimp guy had done it himself, but that's an important part of the post. I've gone back through and un-censored it. The reply which was spread around with the original post addressed the words themselves well, I think; however distasteful and fucked up the incel rabbit hole is, it doesn't diminish his growth.
366 notes
·
View notes
Text
HOT BABES IN YOUR AREA
⋆ your broke boyfriend and roommate Toji suggests you both start an onlyfans.
⋆ mdni. +f!reader, obviously filming unprotected sx, groping, taking suggestive pictures, dirty talk, very very dirty talk, praising, squirting, he calls you slut once.
a soft pop was heard from Toji’s back shoulders as he stretched, rubbing the back of his neck with a tired yawn. it'd been a long day in between picking up uncalled fights and betting on races, luckily he managed to make some money, at least enough to cover a few expenses like the bills and a part of the rent of the shitty overpriced apartment you lived in. he didn’t really care though, as long as he got to see your pretty face, Toji would agree to live under a bridge.
after counting the hundreds bills he hummed satisfied, putting them in his pocket while walking through the bustling streets, following the path he knew perfectly. and to his luck, the first thing he finds upon entering your living room is well, you, sitting on the couch looking worn out. why did your cute little face was even cutter all exhausted?
“welcome home” you chime, giving the man a soft smile and slight look as he steps through the door, “how was your day?” the words are mingled with the tap of your fingers on a laptop keyboard, focused and slightly squinted eyes flickering through the bright screen.
Toji smirks at the sound of your voice, walking over the back of the couch where you sit and tilting your head sideways, a bit rougher than intended, but the languid kiss he leaves on your mouth doesn’t let you complain, “shitty” he grins, parting from your mouth with a slight thread of saliva connecting you both, “but that’s life, doll, sometimes we win, sometimes we lose”
“liar” you say with furrowed brows and a knowing look, “where’s the money”
you have always been so good at looking though him, with a deep chuckle he reaches for the pocket of his loose pants, waving the wad of cash in the air before returning it to it's previous place, “any luck?” he asks pointing to your laptop with his chin, curious whether you’d got any luck at searching for a proper paying job.
“mm, nothing new” you mention, the tapping fading as your caught by surprise at the sudden movement of Toji attempting to lay on your lap, not giving a fuck whether he did it on top of the keyboard and ruined your most valuable possession, “hey...!”
ignoring your struggles he speaks, “y’know, there has to be another way to earn money, not like we can live solely from gambling, huh?” he chuckles, he knew he was not stopping with the gambling, “maybe you can come bet with me, maybe we can try something else...”
you raise a brow, looking down at him on your lap “what are you thinking about?”
a slow grin spreading through his face as he licks his teeth once, “you ever heard of onlyfans?”
a choke is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, and you really should have grown used to Toji’s boldness by the months you’ve been dating —and currently, living together, “are you serious?”
“c’mon, don’t give me that look” he huffs, teasingly rolling his eyes “we could be earning money while having fun”
you have actually considered the option, and now coming from your boyfriend’s lips sounded even more tempting, specially with the way he not so subtly adjusted his gigantic cock beneath his pants. what was he even thinking of.
you give him a tilted look, urging him into continue with the thought and earning a dark chuckle in return, “we can sell some pictures, y’know” he starts, sitting upright and kneeling with one of your thighs between his, cupping the back of your neck to keep your gaze on his, so close you felt his breathing on your lips, “maybe even stream ourselves fuckin’, n’ charge people too watch. we’d be swimming in money in no time” his voice drops and a devilish gleam lighting up his eyes, “thinkin’ bout it got me hard as fuck”
and with the way his heavy, hot bulge is pressing on your thigh you’re getting so horny too, breathlessly whispering a “yeah, alright” that’s a bit too desperate.
“that’s my girl” he purrs, leaning down to suck your tongue onto his mouth, the sound so lewd your panties get wet in an instant, “need to fuck you hard..., but not yet, babe” voice is thick with lust, in a sudden movement you’re on top of him, straddling his hips while his fingers trail across your stomach, dipping low to brush on the edge of your underwear peaking from above your pants, “gotta show off what we got goin’ on here” as he speaks one hand comes up to slide under your shirt, squeezing a breast slightly rough, "you got nice tits, babe, why don’tcha let me take a pic of them?, with this pretty little body of yours all those perverts will be paying good for more than just a picture”
“you’re turning into quite a businessman” you tease, an attempt of a grin on your face that gets interrupted by a sharp gasp at the rough touch of your lover’s calloused fingertips pinching your nipples, then your shirt is out in the blink of an eye.
one hand grasping your phone and the other slides the cup of your bra down, enough to feel the weight on his palm, “mm, someone’s got a really nice pair” focusing on capturing the swell of your breasts and his tough palm cupping your soft skin, Toji starts snapping the pictures, occasionally flicking your nipples to watch them harden under his touch, “that should be enough” he groans after a while, pulling you down for a kiss and setting your phone into your pocket so both his hands reach for your ass, gently guiding your hips back and forth on his hard cock.
“you’ve got nice tits too, why don’t you let me take pics of them?” you smirk against him, earning a chuckle from your boyfriend before he’s carrying you to the bedroom, placing you in bed while he hoovers your body, deliberately slow peeling off his own shirt with a wide smirk on his lips.
soon your phone gallery is filled with 'thirst traps' as you roll in bed, “these will sell good” you murmur, voice hoarse from the endless teasing as you watch at your small hand wrapped around Toji’s fat cock through the device screen, languidly masturbating him until the flushed mushroom shaped tip drooled precum all over your belly.
Toji has never been as turned on in his entire life, quickly gripping your hips and guiding his length down to gently tap your lower abdomen, mimicking a thrust that reaches your belly button, “fuck..” his breathing comes unsteady, each thrust drawing more precum, and honestly it was extremely surprising for him to be so worked up without fucking your cunt.
it’s not a surprise your account grows so much and so sudden, the sexual tension and undeniable chemistry present in every post, and just as expected, what started with merely pictures turned into videos; a better quality camera perched on a side of the bed where the sight of your dripping pussy swallowing Toji’s cock was on prime sight, sinking and raising with practiced ease, “f-fuck, Toji” you mewl, rolling your hips on his pelvis before continuing to bounce hard with the help of his hands squeezing your ass. each gasp and slap only encouraging you further, so ready to fill your tight walls with a nice creampie.
your bank account gets as filled as your closet, with Toji delving into the pleasure of buying you slutty skirts and panties to rip during live streams, although his favorite one is a cream, pleated skirt, one that barely covers your ass, but who cares when that’s what the public wants.
“it’s so difficult not to fuck you right now” Toji grunts staring at your outfit a bit too intensely, opting instead to cup your cheeks roughly and kissing you sloppily, plunging his tongue into your willing mouth, just for a good couple of minutes to leave you hot and bothered.
a bit embarrassing at first, specially considering one of your boyfriend’s favorite positions to fuck you in was sitting on a chair in front of the desk with your streaming setup, camera pointing directly at your barely covered ass that slapped and jiggled lewdly with each forceful pull of Toji’s hands on your waist, fucking you on his throbbing cock.
“oh yeah, babe, such a good fuckin’ girl, taking every inch of my cock” he coos against your ear, looking straight into the camera that perfectly captures the way your lips hungrily grip his cock, juices splattering around with each smack of his balls on your ass.
“Toji, toji, toji!” is all you can moan, turning into a broken sob as you’re unable to move or squirm, just beg and take cock, “t’s so deep, oh god, T-toji slow down”
but he just snarls in return, the chime of incoming tips only fueling his stamina, “your pussy is begging for it, doll, tightening around my cock, ah shit—, so creamy and juicy, my pretty little cock hungry slut”
his thrusting becomes more frantic, his shaft plunging into the depths of your cunt, heavy and full balls slapping your ass until it got sore.
“m’cumming, ngh, o-oh fuck,... toji, please!” with a sudden, and extra rough thrust aimed at your g-spot you squirt loudly, nails digging into his broad shoulders as your juices splatter around, most likely staining the camera lens with a couple drops by the sound of the stream tips increasing, you didn’t care though, focused on not passing out as you scream and tits rub on your boyfriend’s chest, adding into the sensation, yet your money lust driven lover doesn’t stop, pulling your hands back against your back for his to hold, bouncing you on his cock solely from the grip of one of his hands and his hips bucking up widely.
he hums, biting down on his tongue at the tightening of his balls from the sensation of your walls milking his cock, sucking him deeper with each thrust into your needy, cumming core, so close to filling your womb with his own cum “making a mess on my cock, your juices are dripping everywhere, was it that good?” you can’t reply, obviously, “i’m so close, darling, ready to fill your messy cunt with my seed”
#𐔌᭥ᩙ༉#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji smut#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen
327 notes
·
View notes
Text
Physio’s Daughter pt.5
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Read the previous parts HERE
Warnings: cursing
WC: 4.0k
A/N: hi :) enjoy (if you’re reading this the same day it was posted and want to help make a decision on the future of this story go vote on the poll on my feed)
The players ended up with way more downtime than the staff during the week before you all left for Paris they were really only responsible for keeping their bodies ready to play and showing up to get on the plane. You and the rest of the staff had meetings, more paperwork, you all had to pack your equipment away, it took more hours of your time than you had expected.
This meant you had to turn down Jessie on three different occasions when she asked you to coffee.
The first time Jessie shook off the rejection. Not thinking much about it, you were obviously busy with work and didn’t have the time that day.
“I’m wrapping up here. Want to grab a coffee this afternoon?” She stuck her head into your office.
“I would Jessie but I’m not out of here until 5 tonight. Plus should we be grabbing coffee?” You give her a questioning look. You had agreed to friends now, friends grabbed coffee but it felt like a gateway to something more with her.
“Oh, okay, sorry I didn’t realize you had to work so late.”
She shook you off, walking back over to her locker to grab her stuff and leave for the day, having to stop alone for coffee.
She didn’t stop asking, one thing about that girl, she loved to stop by your office and she also loved to get coffee.
“Coffee? Do you have a lunch break at some point?” Jessie’s head once again swung around your office door early in the morning when players were released for a couple hours break before having to return in the evening for film.
You sigh throwing your hands up, gesturing to the pile of papers in front of you “I’m supposed to get a lunch but I think I have more travel paperwork to do during that time, I don’t know Kelly from the administration called and-”
“Don’t worry about it.” You notice the tight lipped half smile she gives you. You so badly wanted to say fuck it to the paperwork and go get coffee with Jessie, you’d get coffee with that woman every second of every day if you could. But you had work. You were at work and she was your coworker.
Insistent on getting you to say yes, Jessie offers another plan. “What about tomorrow morning since it’s a later start? Before we come in?”
“Tomorrow I have to be here at normal times, it’s just you guys who get to come in late.” You give her a frown.
“Look if you don’t want to come to coffee with me, that’s okay, just say that though.” Her voice is quiet but she looks frustrated with you. Her eyebrows furrowed, upset lines on her forehead.
“No! Jessie, I do! I do want to get coffee with you, just, this isn’t a great week. I’ve still got a ton of work to get done before we leave. As the newbie on the staff I get all the simple but time consuming work no one else wants. Unfortunately the next few weeks will be just as crazy for both of us.”
“Okay.” She turns to leave “I’m sorry for bothering you.” Before you can really stop her to explain that she’s not a bother and honestly the short chats you get with her are the highlight of your day, she exits the door. And you're left alone in your office, a massive pile of paperwork to still get done.
With only two days left before you had to fly to Paris you were trying to get most of your work done today. You didn’t want to have to deal with work and the stress of packing tomorrow. You curse yourself for not packing sooner. You end up in the office until it’s dark outside checking your watch and seeing it was 7:30 at night. Your mom had left the office two hours ago, giving you a kiss on the head and telling you not to stay up too late.
You focus in, getting tunnel vision on the paperwork, racing through the stack of papers, until your phone goes off.
Jessie Fleming: what time do you have to be in tomorrow?
A text from Jessie has your phone vibrating in your lap. You pick it up and respond, wondering why she would need to know.
You: 5:30
You: Do you need treatment? Is your calf alright?
Jessie Fleming: So the facility will be open at 5:30? Calf is fine but I’m trying to get in some extra recovery and stretching, feeling a bit tight after today's work.
You: Yeah it should be, for all I know I might still be here when you show up.
Jessie Fleming: You’re still there?
You: I am
You: sent an image
You send Jessie a selfie of you, smiling in your desk chair, a significantly smaller stack of papers than she saw you with earlier in the day.
Jessie Fleming: sent an image
The image is her, in what you assumed was her Canadian apartment bed, a soft smile on her face, her head resting on a pillow with light gray cover on it. What also stands out to you is the way her sheet is pulled up, just under her collarbones. You can see her collarbones, she wasn’t wearing a shirt.
You: Why are you in bed this early?
You: Do you sleep shirtless?
You regret hitting send on the second message when you actually see that she’s typing.
Jessie Fleming: That’s professional to ask
Jessie Fleming: But yes
Jessie Fleming: Most of the time
Jessie Fleming: Obviously not when I have travel roommates or anything, but I’m in my own place for the next few days so I’m enjoying it before a lot of hotels with Janine.
Jessie Fleming: And I’m in bed because I’m watching a documentary and I’ve been told to get as much sleep as I can by the training staff at work.
Jessie Fleming: Especially this new young girl, she has been on my case about taking care of myself and whatever, but she’s cute so I gave her a pass.
The mention of Janine has your mind thinking back to the other day, Janine grabbing Jessie and whispering to her before she gave you a look that felt like she suddenly knew everything. You wanted to ask Jessie about it but now probably wasn’t the best time.
You: I sleep like that too, more comfortable
You: I’m sure that girl is just looking out for you.
Jessie Fleming: I know, right? I tried to tell that to so many of my teammates, none of them listen.
Jessie Fleming: stop texting me, go back to work so you can go home.
You: you’re the one texting me
Jessie Fleming: shhhhh
You: 🙄
You put your phone away, putting it on silent so there was no temptation to text Jessie, having no idea if she had responded. You finish your paperwork, finally standing up your back and knees both cracking as you stretch. You check you phone as you walk to the car, seeing it was 8:22. You’d have to go home, get dinner, shower, all to get up at 4:30 to be at work by 5:30.
A message from Jessie sits on your screen. You debate texting her back but you don’t want to wake her if she’s already gone to sleep.
Jessie Fleming: Have a good night, hope you’re not at work too late :)
When you sit back at your desk the next morning you feel deja vu, feeling like you never left. The only difference is there is no longer a pile of work in front of you, you thank yourself for staying to complete it all last night. You lean forward letting your head rest on your desk for a moment.
“Hi!” Jessie comes around the corner of your office, sounding way too chipper for 5:30 in the morning, but then again she was able to be in bed at 7:30. You look up to her to see her carrying two coffees. She approaches you and sticks her hand out offering you one of the drinks. You were so grateful, you had opted for 5 minutes of extra sleep in the morning instead of getting a coffee and you were starting to regret that decision.
“Should you really be showing up to my office with coffee? You do remember what happened last time you did that, right?” You question her, squinting at her across your desk and sending a glance to the wall where she had pinned you.
“Maybe that’s why I’m doing it, maybe I liked what happened last time.” She pauses, tilting her head, thinking back to the memory. “Except not when your Mom walked in, I didn’t like that, that was terrifying.” A quick grimace follows by a smile comes across her face.
“Jessie, we can’t.”
“I know, I know.” She sounds defeated. “I just figured since going out for coffee doesn’t really fit into your schedule right now, I’d just bring it to you. I promise I’m not trying to get anything out of you.” She sits down in the seat across from you.
“How late were you here last night?” Jessie’s phone buzzes on the table, she ignores it.
“Just before 9.”
“Oh wow, I was asleep by then.” You envy her early bedtime.
“Yeah so I am incredibly grateful for this, thank you.” You shake your coffee cup as her phone lights up with another notification. This time your eyes trail to it. You’re not trying to look at her messages but you just can’t help but glance at the lit up screen.
Jessie noticed your eyes' quick movement toward her phone, “Sorry that’s just Janine, I told her I was coming in to do some early recovery and she’s giving me a hard time about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s just teasing me.” She pauses, “about you.” She uses her coffee cup in her hand to point at you.
“Oh, did you tell her? She gave me a weird look the other day, after you came back and we hugged in the training room, you two walked out together and she sort of stared at me. So did you tell her? About the kiss I mean?” Finally getting an appropriate time to ask what was up with Janine’s look.
“It may have slipped out, one of the times I was talking about you. But she’s been teasing me about you since before that.” Jessie looks down to type back to Janine on her phone.
“Jessie!” Her head snapped back up when she heard you scolding her name. Knowing someone else knows about your kiss, someone you didn’t yet know well enough, makes you uneasy. “You can’t just be telling people that!”
“It’s Janine, she’s my best friend, she knows me too well, she knew something happened and asked. I didn't think it would be a big deal, she’s not going to tell anyone.” Jessie defends herself.
“I get that you think that Jessie, but if she slips up, next thing the whole team knows, then it gets out, you’ll get in trouble for sleeping with the student trainer, who’s 4 years younger than you.” You were spiraling, you’re not sure if you believe what you’re saying or if your mom had just scared you into it. You didn’t want your own career to be at risk and you definitely didn’t want Jessie getting in trouble.
“We haven’t slept together, plus you’re an adult, it’s not like I’m 20 and you’re 16! We’re both grown.”
“I know that, but good luck telling that to anyone else, they won’t listen!”
“I really didn’t mean to tell her, it just sort of slipped out and I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would be an issue.” Jessie crosses her arms across her chest, she feels less warm than usual, less friendly, less inviting.
Only, it felt like it was a problem that she had told people. You weren’t sure why Jessie would think it was okay to go around telling people about your kiss without at least checking in with you. A small bubble of frustration with the woman sitting across from you started to build.
“Jessie, if people find out I could get fired! Sure, it might temporarily make your image bad but you’re too damn good, you’ll stay Captain, you’ll keep getting your call ups, keep being desired by different clubs, it won’t ruin your career like it could mine.”
“Nothing is going to get out, nothings going to happen, it’s not that big of a deal!” Now Jessie is raising her voice at you slightly. She’s leaning across your desk.
“Maybe it doesn’t seem like that big of a deal that to you, but it is to me.” You yell back, thankful that no one else was in at the office yet. You take a breath realizing this argument was not something you needed to be doing at 5:30 in the morning. “You should probably go do your recovery. I have things to get done” You point to the doorway.
“Oh.” It’s obvious the sadness on Jessie’s face and in her voice. A sudden change from her argumentative demeanor. “Yeah, I’m going to do that.” She pushed back from your desk. “I’m sorry.”
You let her walk out without saying anything. She doesn’t close your office door on her way out. Feeling stupid about the argument, you let your forehead come crashing back onto your desk with a loud thud, a lot harder than you intended.
“You okay?” You hear Jessie ask, hearing the sound of your head against your desk from the other room.
“Yeah, all good.” You groan back. You didn’t want her to care and feel the need to check on you. You know you shouldn’t care about he either but you can’t help yourself.
Despite being quite annoyed with Jessie at the moment, you’re unable to look away every time she passes by your door, doing exercises or walking across the room to get equipment. Time goes on and then you hear her digging in the ice cooler, the sound of a plastic bag and some shuffling around.
“Stupid wrap.” Hearing her talking to herself you stand up from your chair, it was your job after all to help with these things. You see her struggling to hold and secure a bag of ice she had made to her calf.
“Let me help you.” You offer empty hands to take the ice bag from her, grabbing the wrap and squatting in front of her to help her get it tight on her leg.
“Thanks.” She gives you a smile, the way she was grinning looking down at you sent a shiver through your body.
“Is it still treating you okay?” You look up at her from where you’re kneeling in front of her.
“Yeah it’s been good, just being overly cautious with it still, that’s why I’m doing all this.” She points down where your hands were wrapping the ice bag. You just nod, returning your focus to what you were doing instead of staring up at the girl’s pretty brown eyes.
You let the silence sit between the two of you for only a second before you break it.
“I’m sorry for how I reacted in the office just now. I think I’m just a little paranoid, we’re adults, we’re allowed to do what we’re doing technically. I just didn’t think you’d be going around talking about me and the fact that you kissed me.” You stand up.
“To be fair, I’m not going around talking about you to everyone, it’s really just been to Janine, she made some comments about you before we had even really talked much, she knows me too well. She knew I was interested, so she made some comments about me finding you pretty to which I blushed and she was onto me right away apparently I’m not great at hiding my crushes.” She looks down at her feet.
“I just freaked out, knowing that someone else knows that you had me against the wall, in my office.”
“If it helps, she doesn’t know I pinned you to the wall.” Jessie’s face is now a bright red. It’s suddenly very obvious to you how close the two of you we’re standing, face to face. It’s apparent that you can make out all the little details of her face, where each freckle sat across her nose and cheeks, you could see it all. Despite still being upset and frustrated with Jessie for telling Janine about your previous kiss, you suddenly don’t care and have the desire to kiss her all over again.
“Jessie.” You stare at her lips while saying her name. You don’t know if she noticed you’re staring, but her tongue runs over her bottom lip, wetting it.
“What?”
“Don’t, what, me. You know what.” Your eyes don’t move from Jessie’s lips.
“No I don’t. You’ll have to enlighten me.” You do, leaning in your hands finding her face you pull her toward you. Your lips meet hers, they’re warm and soft and plump against yours. Her hands find your hips, pulling you against her hard. Her grip is tight, it feels safe. This time you’re able to finish your kiss, both of you pulling away just before you debate sliding your tongue against her lips.
“You really should stop bringing coffee to my office I guess, it always seems to end like this.” You let out once you both breathe for a second. Jessie lets out a soft laugh.
You hear the door to the training room open and you jump away from Jessie, turning to pretend to organize something, finding nothing, everything already being packed up. This leaves you just standing there looking at the wall. You and Jessie both look over to see Janine standing there, coffee in one hand, training bag in the other and a smirk across her face.
“Well you two aren’t suspicious at all.” She says sarcastically as she walks from the doorway further into the training room and in your direction. “I’d recommend actually doing something to make it look like you two weren’t just doing what I think you were.” You can’t read her tone as she speaks to you. “Looking at imaginary things on the wall doesn’t really work as a good cover.” She stops behind you to speak softly only to you. You stay facing the wall, not wanting to turn and let either of the players in the room see how bright red your cheeks are.
“I’m going to go change, I’ll be back in probably 5 minutes, behave yourselves.” Janine says to both of you, she walks away into the changing room.
“Whoops.” You turn back to look at Jessie who is still standing where you kissed her. You both have matching blushes on your face.
“At least it wasn’t my mom this time.” You shrug at her, trying to make light of the situation again.
“I guess,” she shrugs back.
“But seriously Jessie, we can’t keep doing this, we leave for Paris in less than 36 hours. You have to go, be focused, be this team's leader, we can’t, I can’t be distracting you.”
“I know.”
“So that means no more surprise coffees, no more private meetings, like Janine said, we have to behave. Strictly professional from now on. No more of this.” You use a finger to point between the two of you.
“Strictly professional, got it.” She nods at you but her smile tells you she’s not taking you seriously.
“I’m serious this time Jessie.” You try your best to be stern with her.
“So am I.” You were both lying through your teeth, and you both knew it but neither of you were going to call each other out and say anything.
“Or just until the Olympics are over.” You add, hoping she’ll maybe be interested in whatever the two of you were doing come the end of the games.
“Until it's over.” She flashes you a smile before turning to leave, following in the direction Janine went to change. She flashes you a smile before heading through the doors. You move back into your office leaning against the desk.
“Hey.” You jump as Janine flies around the corner of your office door. She walks in closing the door behind you.
“Okay I don’t have a lot of time, but I need to talk to you really quick.”
“What’s up?” You move behind the desk, looking for her file pulling it out. You start to open it and Janine’s hand comes down on it, closing the folder hard.
“This isn’t about me.” She’s staring down at you as you sink back into your chair.
You realized exactly what this was about. “Oh.”
“If you so much as hurt a hair on her head-”
“I won’t.” You interrupt.
“I wasn’t finished.” You nod, letting her finish. “Jessie is a special human and quite frankly she doesn’t need you. She’s perfect on her own, she’s strong and independent and she doesn’t need you, but she wants you, so I’m going to respect that, but please let her focus on this tournament. I don’t know what you two are really doing, she’s been pretty tight lipped, but please. She’s smart but she might not think straight with her crush brain, she might think she can handle starting something with you during this tournament, but she can’t. She needs to be focused. She’d hate herself down the line if she let someone get in her head and mess with her playing. She’s worked her life for these tournaments. This team needs her focused, not distracted because of you.” Janine rants at you.
“I know. We’ve discussed it. I won’t be a distraction to her or to anyone. I promise, I want what’s best for her and the whole team.” You mean it, you want what’s best for the team, and you don’t want to distract Jessie or anyone, you saw how hard they all worked and would hate to be the reason anything went wrong.
“You seem like a good person, and given that Jessie likes you so much, you must be. So I’m going to trust you.” Her hand comes off the file on your desk.
“Janine! Come play Teqball with me!” Jessie hollers through the training room.
“Ahh the queen of Canada awaits.” Janine says, looking at you. She turns to leave, her hand on the doorknob. “Just so you know, I’m serious, don’t hurt her, I’ll make your life miserable.” The way she spoke with still a large smile while telling you she’d ruin your life was slightly terrifying, but very much fitting for her Canadian personality.
“I know.” You just nod. And you did know. It wouldn’t just be Janine coming after you if you messed up with Jessie her entire team would hate you. If you distracted her from the tournament the country of Canada would hate you. You’d never get to work for a Canadian team, you’d never get to live that down. Your nerves build up a bit, even though you had no intentions to hurt Jessie ever, things happen, life happens.
Your spiral of nerves is diminished as you hear Jessie’s laugh carrying through the room. Just her laugh made you smile, your nerves ease. You were in deep, probably in too deep, but there wasn’t anything you could do now, except go to Paris and do your best to just be coworkers with Jessie. You needed to be invisible and not a distraction..
So that’s what you did. Or at least tried to do.
#jessie fleming#jessie fleming x reader#jflem#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#canwnt x reader
270 notes
·
View notes
Text
18+ mdni, cussing, drinking & sexual themes
Saw this prompt on Pinterest and I just knew that it was literally perfect for Rafe. Lmk if you want a full fic version.
© Babeydollx 2024, please do not steal, copy, modify, repost, or translate my work.
You and Rafe were in a fight, as usual. You had gone to a party with a few of your friends but, you never would have went if you knew that Rafe fucking Cameron was going to be there. You both had hated eachother for as long as you could remember and at this point, you couldn't even remember what started your lifelong feud.
"God, just shut the fuck up and leave me alone, Rafe." You groaned from annoyance. You couldn't even remeber how the argument started, the alcohol making your memory hazy. "You have always been such a fucking bitch, Y/N!" He spat. "I can't even go to a goddamn party without running into you and having to deal with your spoiled ass. You're lucky that no one has tried to fix that attitude problem of yours yet." He growled.
At this point Rafe had pushed you to your limit. You knew that Rafe was an asshole, he was an asshole to everyone but, today had snapped your last thread of patience. You try to slap Rafe but, before you are even able to, he catches your wrists before backing you up against the wall and pinning your arms above your head with one hand and he wrapped his free hand around your throat.
Rafe leaned down, his warm breath tickling your skin as he spoke, "you wanna try that again baby?" He asked with a smirk. "Because I don't think you want to mess with me, babygirl." He whispered. He was so close to you and ywr you wanted him closer. You wanted nothing more than to close the gap between the two of you but, you couldn't let Rafe know that. "And if I do?" You asked, trying to keep your voice from wavering.
"If you do then I will bend you over this fucking counter and pound that little pussy until you're so fucking cock dumb that the only thing you remember is my name." He said darkly.
#obx#outer banks#outerbanks#obx smut#smut#rafe smut#rafe cameron#rafe fic#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron rp#outerbanks rafe#Rafecameron#r. cameron#Rafe#Cameron#rafe concepts#rafe cameron x f!reader#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron fanfiction#dark rafe cameron#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x smut#obx cast
221 notes
·
View notes
Note
parents!abby & reader having to go to a mommy and me class n abby has insane beef with one of the dads :3 - 🪰
f that guy all my homies hate that guy
cw: douchebag alert !!!!!!, arguing, MEN 😢, abby’s hot when she’s angry xxxx
“i don’t know why we’re going to these classes. we’re already good mothers,” abby says, closing the car door, and coming around to the passenger side, opening the door for you. you scoff, holding your belly as you begin to waddle to the building. “so cocky. this’ll be good for us. this class was recommended to me by, like, five people,” you say, holding onto abby’s arm. abby sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple.
you sit down in a circle with the other expecting couples. you and abby were the only gay couple, but you didn’t feel uncomfortable. the instructor mainly focuses on the “fathers” in the couples, this obviously being abby, too. abby answered every question, even helping other parents in the class, which seemed to rub this specific father the wrong way. every answer abby said would end in a scoff coming from the other side of the room. you noticed abby’s jaw clench, her biceps tense as she glances over him. “hey, don’t let that dick get to you. ignore him,” you whisper, planting a kiss on her freckled shoulder. she nods, getting back to putting a diaper on a baby doll.
“done!” abby exclaims, like a child in class. she holds the doll up, showing the instructor. she receives praise, from the instructor and other parents. and one scoff. this time, abby stands up, making her way over to him before you could stop her. “what the hell is your problem?” she says loudly, your legs standing you up before you could think. “abby! leave it,” you say, standing behind her. “i mean, who are you? shouldn’t the dad of the kid be here?” he spits, causing you to scoff at him. “excuse me? you have no idea what you’re talking about,” you slightly push abby behind you, pointing up at the man. he laughs, looking at his partner, who looks mortified. the class is silent, uncomfortably so. the instructor walks over, pointing at the door. the mother awkwardly packing her stuff up, out of the door first.
“why are we being kicked out? we didn’t do anything wrong!” he mutters. abby gets a second wind. “are you fucking kidding me? you’ve been giving us these fuckin’ dirty looks, you’ve been scoffing and laughing at everything we say. who the fuck do you think you are?” abby gets in his face, he has to look up at her. you go to step in, but your cheeks feel hot, and you’re smirking up at her. “i think you should leave. don’t come back,” the instructor says from behind you. he rolls his eyes and leaves.
abby turns around, laughing with her face in her hands. “i’m sorry for making a scene,” she says.
“don’t apologise! it’s all good! he’s been getting on my nerves for a while actually, but that’ll stay between us,” the instructor says, smiling at you apologetically, rubbing your shoulder, quickly nodding at abby. she walks back to the front of the class, trying to pick up from where she left off.
“get that smirk off your face. i see it,” abby whispers into your neck. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
taglist: @queenofmistresses @abigails-gf @bambishaven @abbysprettygiiirl @dykeanderson @aouiaa <3
#the last of us#abby anderson#tlou#abby tlou#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson tlou#abby the last of us#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson tlou2#the last of us abby#mama abby <333
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 .ᐟ
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✶ ׅ ࣪ smut, oral!male, pet names; (baby, mama, pretty girl, slut), p in v, protected sex; (always wrap before you tap!)
𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 ✶ ׅ ࣪ dom!chris & fan!reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ׄ ׅ ྀ summer been a fan of the triplets for ages. you finally were able to get tickets to their new “LTT” coming up. when summer arrived; she had been so anxious. anxious for one thing only. chris sturniolo. summer had the biggest crush on him since she had started watching the channel. and one thing she knew; he doesn’t fall for fans. or she thought she knew.
chris - orange
summer - pink
ׄ ׅ ྀ SUMMER’S hands were shaking as she walks into the building for the let’s trip tour. she has been nervous about coming since she bought the ticket’s.
she wasn’t nervous to see matt, or nick. she was actually the most excited to see nick. but summer was nervous to see chris. ever since she began watching their channel she’s gained the biggest crush on the youngest triplet.
his hair— his eyes— his personality, just every little thing about him she thinks is perfect.
when she walks in, she follows the carpet on the floor to the booth for meet and greets. she was luckily able to get the premium ticket’s so she gets to meet them twice and take a group photo as well.
their booths go in birth order. nick ; matt ; chris. oh was she nervous to see chris. summer has no clue what she would even say to him— to any of them.
she’s atleast 10th in line, so summer has to wait a couple of minutes to even begin the session. when she walks up she’s greeted with nicks face. he’s got his arms open for a hug which she quickly accepts. they talk about thinks from vlogging to music to anything until time runs out. their time limit was short as hell so she wasn’t able to finish their conversation.
next is matt— she was getting more nervous by the second knowing chris is just after this one. she takes a glimpse over as she catches chris’s eyes on her, but he takes them off quickly before she fully has time to process anything.
her and matt really just walk about writing or anything under those lines. he’s more of a comfort triplet in her eyes since they struggle with the same things. they take their photo as summer gives him one last hug as she grabs her signed cards and walks over to chris’s stand.
he already has his arms wide open for her, which she accepts just like the rest. she could smell his dior sauvage with how close their contact was. he pulls away and looks down at her— a huge smirk plastered on his face.
“so, what’s your name?” chris asks as he bends over and begins to sign her card. she clears her throat. “s-summer,” she stutters. she stutters. fuck that’s embarrassing!
“cute name,” chris says in a flirty tone. she doesn’t take it that way tho because she KNOWS he would never flirt with a fan. especially a fan he’s known for less than 30 seconds.
summer mumbles a quick thank you as she looks back up at him, her cheeks turning a cherry color from their eye contact.
“so,” he says as he runs his hand through his hair, she thought that was the most attractive thing ever. “you got the premium ticket? y’know, for another selfie later?” chris asks as she nods. she can’t pull herself to say anything.
“alright alright, see you later then?” chris asks as his bottom lips now in his mouth, top teeth out for display. this makes her feel some type of way. “see you later,” she says to his as he hands her the signed card.
their time runs out, but chris pulls her in for another hug as he shoots his brothers a secret wink, them rolling their eyes. chris’s hands find her waist as he gives them a squeeze, letting her walk off.
ׄ ׅ ྀ chris point of view .ᐟ
FUCK. the moment the fan— summer— walked into the room, i couldn’t control myself. her dark brown hair that lays on her shoulders covered in freckles made me feel some type of way.
she’s perfect. she’s all i’ve ever wanted. i gave her the last hug as i look over at matt and nick and give them the — i want her — look. they let out a silent laugh as they roll their eyes at me.
i give her waist a squeeze as i watch her walk off. she’s so fucking perfect. all i’ve ever dreamed about if i’m being completely honest.
jesus fuck— how am i gonna last on stage knowing she’s there. watching us. watching me.
a tent builds up in my pants as i think about her, thinking about the possibility’s i have with the girl. summer, that’s her name.
cute name for a cute girl.
ׅ ྀ summers point of view .ᐟ
I swear i was catching chris looking at me on stage with that slutty smirk on his face. jesus christ. i know he’d never get with a fan, but the way he’s acting— i’m slowly second guessing my assumption.
i would catch him giving small smirks and winks towards my way, girls behind me saying it was for them. if only they knew.
i felt my core grow wetter every time his eyes landed on mine. his eyes would constantly move down to my lips, causing them to get sucked between my top teeth. fuck i just wanted him so bad.
i wasn’t even paying attention to what was happening around me, but all i heard was chris winning- cheers- and girls saying freaky shit.
right before he walked off stage while everyone was leaving the crowd, christ’s eyes moved to me and he shot me a “excited-to-see-you” wink.
ׅ ྀ 3rd person point of view .ᐟ
as she walks up to meet the three, chris’s eyes immediately wandering around her body. the sexual tension between them was beginning to get to intense, both of them wanting nothing bout to fuck each-other senseless.
after hugging the other two, she hugs chris, “missed me?” he mumbles against her ear as he pulls away— her just looking at him.
she poses between both chris and nick, doing just a group photo. chris’s hands wander around her waist like earlier, giving it a squeeze. the heat between her core was burning— all she wanted was him.
*FLASH!* the camera clicks as she walks away from the boys, giving chris a little wave.
after that you either left or went to the back for the last round of photos, which the second option was summer’s.
she walks over and has her talks with the other 2 triplet brothers as they talk about anything, talking 0.5’s, tiktok’s, whatever.
then it was chris. his eyes were already on her the whole time which caused butterflies to swarm all in her stomach.
“hey chris,” she mumbled as she went in for another hug, chris’s hot breath going right onto her neck. “hey pretty, missed you y’know?” he says. what a fucking tease he is.
“really? to bad theirs only 3 minutes left,” summer tells him as she looks up to get a better view of him, sudden boldness coming out. her words made chris’s eyes widen, “yeah i know,” chris says as his eyes wander to the room next to him.
BATHROOM!
a smirk plasters on chris’s face as he notices the girls jaw slightly dropping, knowing what he was getting at. “i—“ summer clears her throat. “you know! maybe i should just—“ she starts to finish her statement from before but quickly gets dragged by her wrists by chris.
summer hears a click from a lock as chris’s hands find their way to the hem of the cargo skirt she wore. “been thinking of taking this off you,” he mumbles as he places a soft kiss right under her ear. his hands find way to her throat as he backs her up into the wall and places his lips on her roughly.
“f-fuck,” she breathes out which allows chris to slide his tongue past her lips, exploring every inch of her mouth that he could. the sound of teeth clashing and wet noises filling up the hollow room. “mmgh- fuck, knees,” he says as summer quickly gets on her knees as told.
he tries to take his belt off but he can’t, so summer quickly steps in to help. she takes his underwear down with his black jeans as her eyes widen at the sight of his length.
“like what you see baby?” he whispers as her eyes look up into his, she doesn’t reply as her hand is met with the base of his cock. his angry red tip on display right in-front of her eyes.
she lets spit drip down from her lips as she takes all the length that she could into her mouth— bobbing her head up and down. chris’s hands find their way into her hair as they make a ponytail.
he helps her take his full length as she stays their for a few seconds, then continuing to suck him off. groans come from chris’s mouth. he could get off at just the sight of you.
“such a fucking slut— my slut,” chris groans out-loud which caused her to get more soaked— which at this point wasn’t even possible.
right before chris was about to cum into your mouth, he pulls out. you let out a whimper as you stand up. he grabs the condom he left in his pocket as he puts it on around his length.
“c-“ before you could finish, your stomach hits the sink in front if you as he rips down her skirt, wasting no time to stick himself into her core. a loud groan falls from both their lips as she adjusted to his size. fuck was he huge.
“don’t have long— gonna cum!” chris moans a little louder than expected as the room is filled with skin slapping and groans from the pair.
he pushes his full length into you as he rolls his hips, a loud whimper coming from your mouth. “fuck chris, so good. so good!” she moans which made chris let out a satisfied whimper.
“fuck mama’s, gonna cum! gonna cum!” he moans as his load shoots into the condom, slowly pulling out of you. both your chests rising with slight sweat on you both. “fuck that was amazing,” you whimper out as you get your skirt back on.
“mm, yeah it was. doing that again for sure mama’s.” chris says. again?
#ׄ ׅ ྀ 𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 .ᐟ#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo smut#chrissturniolo smut#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#nathan doe#nick sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo fanfic#nathan doe smut#smut
181 notes
·
View notes
Note
omgomg what abt like reader and sam monroe are really good friends and he like has a thing for her in high dchool but she moves away n they run into eachother in the future AND HE LOOKS LIKE ANAKIN NOW.
(shut the fuck up this is so cute but like sad to me. im gonna sob 💔) also im literally listening to 'into you' by ariana grande, so that's why that's the title, ahaha 😈
Into You ✦
Sam had been a really good friend of yours since sophomore year. You didn't hang out with the same people at all, though. Sam hung out with a couple of druggies and ‘freaks’ while you were paired with ‘normal’ people.
You became friends with Sam because you had the same p.e class with him. He was often left alone and in the corner after walking 2 daily laps. Some guys even made fun of him, but Sam would always ignore them. Even your own girlfriends would make fun of him! You always felt bad for that poor boy.
So, one day you left your friends after walking 2 laps and went to the corner that Sam was always at. He didn't notice you at first, but once he did, he looked nervous. Why was a girl going up to him? The worse scenarios were going through his head. Maybe someone dared you to do that thing were you go up to a random kid and ask them out and if they say yes, you laugh and explain it was a dare.
When you finally stood in front of him, he glanced up anxiously and looked back down, waiting for you to just get it over with. “Hi, Sam.” You sweetly greeted with that charming smile of yours. He only nodded his head to your greet.
“Look, I know you're probably scared im gonna say or do something mean, but please trust me when I say I wanna be your friend.” and sat next to him. He was stunned at what you had said. You were so pretty and had a bunch of friends. Why do you wanna be his?
Sam messed with the stud inside his lip, making his labret move from the outside. “Just cause you feel bad doesn't mean you have to be my friend.” He softly spoke. Yeah, that was the big part of it, but you also believed everyone should have a friend.
It's not like Sam was completely friendless, but he was left out in a lot of his classes that his friends weren't in, and you wanted to change that. “Sam, I wanna be your friend because I think there's more to you than what people think.” He finally looked at you but still kept an emotionless expression. “Yeah, okay.”
And from then on, you bothered him every simple day during pe. You made him walk with you, run the miles with you, literally participate im everything in that class. He acted annoyed at first (which really, he loved the attention), but as time went by, he came around.
Sometimes, you'd ditch your friends to go inside the hallways or classrooms to spend lunch with Sam. You two became so close that he let you meet his mom, dad, step-dad, and little brothers.. and boy, did they love you.
The point has been made. You're close friends. Junior year was the year his biological dad died, but you helped him through it all. Especially with his drug problem. Since the last week of sophomore year, he's had a crush on you. At first, he tried to brush it off, telling himself that it's never gonna happen and to just keep you as a friend. You were the only one who genuinely cared anyway.
Sam had dated some girl named Alyssa for a while, which you hated. She was such a dirty hoe.. there were rumors that she kissed Sam's dad and that she told Josh to lie about never having sex with her, but come on, no one really believes that.
You tried to be happy for Sam, and you were for a little bit until Alyssa had a cow over you being too close with Sam. As a girl who's experienced the same, you understood and stopped talking to him for a while. Only giving him smiles and waves when you'd see him around.
What you didn't know is that when you stopped talking to him, he was really mad at Alyssa. “Alyssa, I love you, but you have to understand that she's the only one who really cared for me before you. I can't just stop talking to her like that. If I never met her, I'd probably would have already been dead because of how fucked up on drugs I was.” But she clearly didn't care.
She was so damn jealous that she wasn't the one who helped him through all that. Not only was she mad over that, but she was upset that you were prettier. Inside and out. She was so toxic with Sam, and everyone knew. His friends told him to just break up with her, but he didn’t want to. That poor boy was too scared.
At the end of 11th grade, he finally broke up with her, though, even though it was quick. All he said was that he was unhappy, and she used him for attention and that it was over. She didn't get a say in it because he walked away right after. And who did he immediately go to? You. He craved you so bad.
You had a boyfriend now, and he was so pissed. That should have been him. He was just too scared to say anything. Always seeing you hugging and kissing all over him was gut-wrenching. That whole breakup was right when the bell rang after school, so he planned to go to his house to freshen up and talk to you.
He knocked on the door around 6 in the afternoon just in case you were eating dinner at 4-5. Your mom opened the door, greeting him with a big hug since she hasnt seen him in so long. Let's just say things were awkward at first between you two at first, but after explaining everything, it was fine.
You gushed to him about Jesus, your boyfriend. Talking about how sweet and handsome he is.. Sam acted happy for your sake, but ooh, he was so jealous.
Stuff went back to normal, and you two became close again really quick. Sam met Jesus, and it went pretty well. Even if Sam was jealous/mad, he saw that Jesus really liked you and seemed like a good guy. What relieved him even more was that Jesus didn't mind your friendship.
“Oh, yeah. I had a homie who was on drugs and stuff. He didn't have anyone to help him out like that, so it's chill that you helped him out like that. I'd never get mad over him wanting to hang out, you know?” Your boyfriend explained one time when he was over.
You lasted with Jesus for a couple of months until the last few weeks of school because you were going to an out of state college. Sam didn't know that was the reason, though. He just saw it as a chance to finally confess. You two were sitting in an empty classroom together at lunch.
“Sam, we need to talk.” You speak softly. “We are talking.” He replies, eating a chip. “No, like. I have something serious to tell you.” His heart dropped. Were you gonna drop him? Did he do something wrong?
“What is it..” You friend replies with an anxious look plastered on his face. “I'm moving after graduation. Like, to an out of state college.” One part of Sam was happy, and the other was devastated. He finally got you back, and now you're leaving?
“Oh, um,” He looked to the floor. “That's great. Uh—not in the sense that, like, I want you to leave, but, you know. It's great that you have this opportunity.” He tried his best not to cry but failed. You two spent the whole time crying to each other, saying how much you'll miss each other.
But you'll keep in touch.. right?
—
You and Sam were bawling by the end of it. He was probably even sadder because it's not like he can tell you he likes.. no. Loves you, because what's the point?
He went along with you to the air port, saying goodbye. Hugging you hard and placing a kiss on your head. “Have a good time, okay? Have fun.” Sam says, eyes all red and droopy.
You nod, kissing his cheek and leaving a faint mark. Before he knew it, you were on that plane and gone. You swore that you were gonna call and visit for the holidays, but guess what! You didn't.
Spring break? No. Thanksgiving? Christmas? His birthday? Nope. He tried calling one time, but the number was out of service. That was the last straw. He was so mad at you.
He got over it after a year or so, too. He pushed himself to be more social and actually go out. His appearance changed, too. No more eyeliner or dressing in dark clothing. He even dyed his hair brown.
—
He kinda forgot about you since even after your four years at college were up, you stayed. You forgot about him too. Your new friends kept you busy all the time, along with your job.
Your look didn't change as drastically as Sam's. Your style of clothing changed a little, and so did your attitude. Back then, you were such a goody two shoes. Now, you go out amd party and break the rules more often. Nothing totally illegal, but you get it.
You still talked to your parents every night. They asked so many times to come visit you because they're getting old (a little dramatic, but it was still true) so you finally said yes after 6 years of not seeing them.
Your cousin had picked you up from the airport, thrilled to see you. She was chatting it up and telling you about everything that has been going on since you left. Then it hit you. Sam Monroe, that emo boy you loved so much probably still lived here. Your cousin knew him back then, too, so maybe she knows what hes been up to.
“Oh, girl. He's like, a totally different person. Dyed his hair, became more talkative.. like, literally. A bunch of girls from high school like him cause they realized how handsome he is, I guess.” She keeps babbling on about him to you. He changed a lot, it seems. But there was no way you were gonna try and go look for him. You knew he was more than likely mad at you for not calling and visiting.
Your parents had invited a bunch of people over for a welcome home party. They were all in the backyard, though. So, you had time to get ready. Sam was left in your mind while you showered and got ready. How different could he really look?
After you get ready, you make your way to the backyard, greeting aunts and uncles, cousins, and family friends, but most importantly, your parents. You were smothered by your mom's kisses and practically crushed by your dads hugs. They missed their little girl.
You drank with your cousins and played party games while the older adults watched and laughed at you, losing almost every round, causing you to face the penalty and take a shot.
By the end of the night, you were so drunk. No memory of what happened that night when you woke up in the morning. Confused in your old room, you groan and whine. A headache was bothering you, and you felt super weak, but you remembered that your dad wanted you to go to the hardware store with him to pick up a few tools.
You knew he would offer to just let you stay and rest, but you haven't seen him in so long and wanted to spend as much time with him as you could. With another groan, you force yourself to get up and shower. You didn't even bother to put on makeup or do your hair.. not even to wear a cute outfit.
Sweats with a baggy t-shirt and a pair of slippers was your choice. Your mom gave you something quick to eat before leaving with dad. The store was close by, so the ride there wasn't too long. Dad asked about everything you did over where you live.
Ex boyfriends, the classes you took, and a lot of other things were talked about, even when you got off the car and entered the store. You talked his ear off while he was looking through the aisles. One thing about dad was that he's never at the hardware store just for what he actually needs.
Normally, he'd tell you to shut up with all your talking because, well.. you're a chatterbox. but this was an exception since he hasn't seen you for a long time. Half an hour passed by before he asked you to go get something for him in aisle 12.
You looked and looked around that aisle for what seemed like forever trying to find a specific tool dad asked for. A groan escapes your throat, and before you know it, you are asked a question by a worker.
“Need any help, ma’am?” His voice was soft and calm. You turned around to see a very tall, muscular man with tanned skin, brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. He was very handsome. So handsome that he left you speechless, and it was sort of weirding him out.
“Ma’am.” He repeated himself, looking slightly uncomfortable. You knock out of your trance and visibly cringed at yourself. “Sorry, um. Yes, I need help.” You respond with a nervous tone. “Yeah? Okay, what do we need?”
“A shovel.” You reply, trying to avoid eye contact. The man laughed a little, shaking his head. “Well, this definitely isn't the aisle where you'll be finding those.” Great, now you look stupid. Did dad send you to the wrong one on accident? Who knows. You just felt really stupid.
“Come on, n/n, I'll show you.” He says and starts walking away. It took you a couple of seconds to realize that he had just called you your nickname. What the fuck? How does he know that? Wait.
No, there's no way. This guy looks nothing like the one you had in mind. “Here ya are.” He interrupts your thoughts. “Oh, thank you,” You squint to look at his name tag. It was him. “Sam.”
“Did it really take you that long to realize?” He snickered and set his hands on his hips. “But I guess I can't blame you, though, huh? I look nothing like I did when you left.” Of course, he had to add that last part. Now you were sure he was pissed about what happened.
“Yeah..” was all you replied while literally checking him out. he didn't mind it. He knew he was handsome. His confidence grew a lot while you were away. “So, anyway. I'd recommend this one.” He quickly changed the topic.
—
He talked to you for a little while in that same spot. About why you left and why you didn't call back—but he was so mature about it. He wasn't angry or sad.. he was just asking like if it was normal. He even walked you back to where your dad was at, and said hi.
It made you smile to hear him ask for your new number. “Just so you know, I'm taking you out tonight, and you can't say no. Pick you up at 8.” He smiles at you. You shake your head and smile again. “Okay, see you then.”
—
errrm part 2 when 🤔
tags, @heartsforanakin @sockiess @radiantvader @anakinstwinklebunny @lunalitva @lvrfay3 🎀
#hayden christensen#sam monroe#life as a house#sam monroe x you#sam monroe x reader#sam monroe imagine#sam monroe smut#i love sam monroe#sam monroe fanfiction#hayden christensen fanfic#hayden christensen star wars#anakin skywalker smut#rots anakin#anakin skywalker x you#anakin smut#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker
236 notes
·
View notes
Text
Draco Malfoy Headcanons
Warnings: Toxic!Draco | Bullying | Mentions of Rough Sex, BDSM, Choking, Worship/Praise Kink | Oral (F Receiving) | Mentions of Drugs and Alcohol | Let me know if I missed something.
Fem!Reader
Author's Note: I've got a love-hate relationship with Draco Malfoy.
Proofread, but might have mistakes.
Theodore Nott Headcanons
Mattheo Riddle Headcanons
Lorenzo Berkshire Headcanons
Blaise Zabini Headcanons
Tom Riddle Headcanons
Masterlist
Minors DNI | 18+
Draco Malfoy | Physique
5’11 | I don’t see him as being super tall.
Draco is more on the lanky side.
Working out? Physical labor? Absolutely not. | He plays quidditch for the attention. Genuinely hates sweating like ew.
Resting bitch face. THE WORST resting bitch face. He looks like such a bitch, I can’t stress this enough.
SO UNAPPROACHABLE
But he is really pretty. | I know I say this for pretty much all of them, but that’s how you HAVE to describe Draco
Draco is pretty and no one can argue with me on this.
Draco Malfoy | Personality
Dick
Genuinely awful to almost everyone
He’s a powerful person and he likes to let that be known. Always looks down on people who don’t share his status
He and Lorenzo have that same frustrating energy in very similar ways.
Lorenzo is frustrating because he tries to pretend he’s not actually the worst.
Draco is frustrating because he just has so much audacity
“Hey, nice shirt.”
“Oh, thanks! I actu-”
“I’m kidding, that’s the ugliest fucking shirt I’ve seen in my entire life. Did you actually think I was serious? Where did you get that? The dump? Merlin, you look AWFUL! I can’t believe you left the house looking like th-”
| Regina George energy |
Was that necessary? No, but Draco doesn’t care. He hurt your feelings? OH WELL
He WILL laugh in the face of anyone who cries in front of him because why are you acting so pitiful?
Sure he just pointed out your deepest and most shameful insecurity, but geez pull yourself together.
He likes to remind everyone that no matter how hard they try they will never be him.
Because he’s Draco mother fucking Malfoy. | Duh.
FLAUNTS
Doesn’t know what humble means. If has it, he’s displaying it it.
Projects his insecurities onto others.
He treats others so poorly because that's how he treats himself. He is his own worst critic and he feels a lot of pressure from other influences in his life too.
Uptight. High Standards that everyone must meet.
Draco can still loosen upthough. He enjoys a good party.
Prefers to host so that he can control the guest list.
Whenever he doesn’t host he’ll complain the whole time because that guy would have never been let into one of his parties.
Draco smokes and drinks but it’s 50/50 on how messed up he gets
If he’s out with just Mattheo, Theo, and Enzo then he’s pretty sober because who knows what he’ll get into with those three.
If Tom or Blaise are there then he’ll go a little crazy because he knows those two won’t let anything too bad happen. | Mostly Blaise. Tom will only intervene if it’s for his benefit.
Draco Malfoy | Casanova
Draco is someone else I can see who targets other people's girlfriends
Whereas Theo does it only if their boyfriend pissed him off, Draco does it merely because he can.
Generally, Draco is very dominant in a toxic Alpha Male kinda way
He likes to go all out. Takes them on dates, wine and dine, fanciest restaurants, fanciest cars, just the whole nine.
He doesn't want them to talk much unless it’s to compliment him. He’s not so much doing the grand gestures to impress women. He’s mainly doing it to flex on other men.
He still cares in some way though because uhh
After the date, he takes them back to his room, and AHH
SO GOOD
He thrives off of pleasing his partner. If he can make a girl scream his name even ONCE he is walking around the next day like he is a GOD. | More so than usual.
Loves giving and he would never tell anyone to do this, but if you throw in some praise? One crumb of praise?? FERAL
He goes into overdrive. They thought he was good before, but if they praise him next thing they know their legs are shaking and they’re cramping so bad because they just can’t take anymore but it feels so fucking good so they will take it all with no complaints
Quite the reputation in bed.
Overstimulation, bondage, choking, anything to give him the control he wants.
But then he has someone extra special for the lack of control he needs. | I feel like this person is Pansy, but that’s a whole other story.
Draco wants to be a sub SO BAD, but he will only let those he trusts see that side of him.
One girl, MAYBE TWO! MAYBE
But even having one person who knows that side of him exists makes him so anxious so he will probably only stick to that one person.
Draco likes to talk about every single girl he fucks and he brags about his encounters regularly.
But he’s taking his secret Dom to the grave and he will gaslight the shit out of everyone if he is ever exposed. He REFUSES to let people know that side of him exists.
Draco Malfoy | Friend
Closest to Mattheo and Blaise | I KNOW PEOPLE DON’T PUT HIM IN MATTHEO TOGETHER HER! I EXPLAIN IT A LITTLE BIT IN MY MATTHEO HC BUT IT MAKES SENSE!
Draco is a good friend
He’s such a sweet guy once he gets comfortable around someone.
So supportive!! | Lucius and Narcissa loved to cheer for their baby boy so that’s how he treats his friends.
As long as it makes him look good!
If someone is playing a game with him and they’re on the opposite team then he is spending every second praying for their downfall
But if his friend is on the same team as him then he becomes so proud every time they do something right.
Look at his bestie out there showing everyone their skills and helping him win. | Go bestie!
Outside of his selfish nature, he doesn’t like to see his friends fail.
He gets really unhappy when he feels like he’s failed at something and so he projects those feelings onto others and in turn that makes him want to help his friends succeed.
He thinks if they don’t then they’ll feel the way about themselves that he feels about himself.
He will always make sure his friends have their notes, they’re in class, they’re eating, they’re studying, etc.
And if they’re doing any sort of presentation, performance, whatever he will be in the crowd like the proud parent he is.
Does not share.
If Blaise asks to use his Dior cologne he is absolutely saying no because he doesn’t want to waste any of it. | Only child behavior. No offense.
But he’ll go out the next day and buy Blaise his own.
“Here,” as he drops the box in front of him.
“Is this?”
“You said you wanted to try it,” he shrugs
“You didn’t have to buy me a bottle! You could have just let me use yours.”
“And why would I do that?”
Draco Malfoy | Boyfriend
He's so obvious when he's in love.
He genuinely treats you like you're some sort of a goddess.
Draco would not let you do anything.
He won’t do it for you, but he’ll find someone who will.
“Draco, why is Mattheo on a rampage in the library? I was walking by and heard Pince screaming at him.”
“I told him if he found that book you needed for your test I’d take him to the concert next weekend.”
“But you promised me I could go!”
“You are going.”
“Then why-“
“Shhhhhh”
You will always be his number one priority. Acts of Service
Draco will basically upgrade your life.
Does your water bottle leak sometimes? He’s already bought you a new one.
He presents you with gifts, but if it’s a replacement he usually switches them out and will tell you later.
You would need to communicate when something is sentimental because otherwise, he’s throwing it out for a new one
Door creaks? New door. The drawer won’t open properly? New dresser. Woke up with a sore back? New mattress.
He just bought the items, someone else replaced them.
Eventually, he’ll start doing some services himself too.
At first, it seems beneath him, but once he’s all in he doesn’t even have to think about it.
Puts his jacket on the ground because you want to sit and enjoy nature and he won’t let you get your outfit dirty
Will make sure to loosen up any skincare, food jars, or whatever he knows you regularly use so that you don’t have to waste time seeking him out to do it.
He knows when you’ll use them and gives himself time in his schedule to loosen them just before you need them.
Will not let you stress over anything.
The second you mention you have more than three things to do that day he’s already rejecting the idea.
“Oh, absolutely not. That’s way too much. I’ll have someone do that for you.”
He’s not letting you work. You’re too good to work.
A life of luxury, baby. Gift Giving
DRACO EXCELS IN THIS CATEGORY
You guys don’t even need to be dating for that long. On your third date, he shows up with a Birkin bag
His parents bought his love and that’s how he would treat his partner as well.
He would not let you pay for anything.
Same mentality as Theo where he just thinks it would make him look bad if you ever did pay for anything so it’s not happening. It doesn’t matter if you actually want to pay.
Why would Draco Malfoy let anyone pay for him? That’s so embarrassing.
Elevates your wardrobe. He wants to coordinate. Not so much matching outfits but if he’s wearing all black then you’re wearing all black.
Will be very controlling with this kind of stuff. He wants you to always fit his aesthetic. If he’s not wearing sweatpants then neither are you.
Why should you dress comfortably when he bought you 10 different dresses just in the last hour?
New shoes, makeup, nails, hair
Paying for your facial because his girl needs to relax.
And he’s in the chair next to you because all of those looks of disdain he gives out on the daily are giving him wrinkles. | Skincare King.
And to make sure his girl gets the best treatment
You deserve it all and he will show you that and tell you that every single day.
Little off-track Draco rant moment coming up.
I feel like when you first start dating Draco he will be a little judgmental and controlling. Like with what I mentioned about him wanting you to have a specific aesthetic
But when he falls in LOVE
He has this full-body reaction to every single thing you do.
You wake up in the morning your hair a mess, boob hanging out, crust all up in your eyes and he just looks at you and his stomach gets this queasy yet dull feeling and his mind is zeroed in on you. It’s like someone literally went into his brain and fully erased every single thought that wasn’t centered around you.
He feels the hairs raise around his body and he gets this rush of adrenaline from being both excited and so nervous because how the fuck is the most beautiful person in the world in his bed right now?
But the main thing he notices is his heart. This ache takes over his chest as he’s so overwhelmed with how much he loves you.
And to get it all out he HAS to tell you every single day. All day.
Words of Affirmation
Dating Draco means you have to be comfortable with compliments because he positively will not stop.
“The way this light is hitting you makes you look amazing.”
“I swear you’re the most beautiful person I have ever seen.”
It doesn't matter if you're eating, studying, or talking to your friend or professor he will always find the right moment to lean forward, his lips brushing against your ear as he tells you how beautiful you are.
Once more, when Draco is in love with you, for lack of a better word, he becomes the utmost simp.
Did you pass your exams? Just barely pass them?
“You’re so impressive. You’re so smart, I can’t believe I’m dating you. I’m so lucky.”
Style your hair differently?
“You’re so creative. How do you come up with this stuff? That’s amazing, you look so good.”
Cook eggs? The most basic meal ever or even if you don’t cook and just order out
“You always know exactly what I need. I’m so thankful for you. You always take such good care of me. I appreciate you so much.”
He doesn’t care how cringey he sounds. His girl is a goddess and she deserves to be worshipped. Both with words and with Physical Touch
Draco loves to touch you, but he’s not fully comfortable with PDA.
He was raised in a household where those things weren’t proper to display in front of others.
All of his PDA is very subtle. Your hands rest next to each other as you’re sitting down and he has two fingers gently rested atop of yours.
Standing next to each other somewhere and he has his hand gripping the back of your arm. Kind of his way of showing everyone who you belong. And also reminding you that he’s there. Just so you don’t forget about your lovely boyfriend.
When you’re with friends and the air is more relaxed he’ll keep an arm around your shoulder and softly play with your earlobe.
It’s all very subtle. Then when you’re in private he becomes so annoying
He needs physical touch and he needs it NOW
After class every day he needs at least a 20-minute cuddle session. 20 minutes and no less. He will build his entire schedule around this and will bitch out anyone who ruins his time with you.
He prefers to be the little spoon and he likes to rest his head very nicely upon your boobs
Back rubs are mandatory. You need to rub his back as soon as he lays down.
Playing with his hair isn’t a necessity, but it’s preferred.
However, if you are playing with his hair then you need to commit. Don’t just run your fingers through it once and call it a day.
“Baby, please. I can’t deal with this today. I’ve already had so many things go wrong, if you take your hand away from my head again I will frankly have a nervous breakdown.”
“Draco, calm down. It’s not tha-“
“PLEASE!”
He takes the Quality Time he gets with you very seriously.
Draco can be busy, he’s not that partner who is around you 24/7 but when he is with you he is fully devoted.
Anything that might distract him is getting pushed to the side and he is 100% yours.
Do you want to watch the same movie for the 6th time in two weeks? Fully invested. He knows every line. Even if he hates it he will never act like he’s uninterested or bored.
If it’s important to you then it’s important to him.
You want to rant about how that one person pissed you off again? All ears.
Do you simply want someone to go with you to the store, for a walk, or just do the most random thing? Of course, he will come. If you need him to do something? Great, he’ll help. Do you just want company? He will gladly be a figure in the background you can talk to when you want to.
Draco will never let you believe for a second he isn’t absolutely in love with you. His love is filled with such enthusiasm and care that it’s easy to see how much he wants you in his life
And in his bed | ;)
Draco Malfoy | Committed Lover
Remember when I said Draco likes to worship you?
IT IS BECAUSE HE HAS A WORSHIP KINK
He doesn’t like to be rushed during sex. You are the most ethereal being he has ever seen and he needs to take his time with you.
He has every detail of your body memorized because he loves to look at, feel, and taste every morsel of you.
Sprawled out against his bed, frustrated and desperate because Draco has spent the last 45 minutes kissing almost your entire body, purposely leaving out the spot you need him at most.
He may take 45 minutes to an hour just focusing on the rest of your body, but he saves your breathtaking cunt for last because he has to dedicate at least three hours to that
Munch.
It’s concerning how often Draco eats you out. If you let him I’m sure he would do it at least four-five times a day. On his knees with his tongue swiftly moving over your sensitive bud while he looks up at you in awe because you just look so pretty when you cry for him.
Draco would have a hard time teasing you or withholding anything.
It’s like he goes into a trance.
Cock being sucked into your achy cunt, squeezing him so tight he feels like he can’t breathe
And then your lashes flutter and your mouth parts and he just stares at you mindlessly as he continues to drill himself into you.
You’re so pretty he can hardly focus.
Draco is adaptable. He’s a switch, but he prefers to be a sub.
It’s when his worship kink and praise kink come out the most. He wants to worship you but he would like it if you praised him in the process for being such a good boy.
On his knees staring up at you as he runs his tongue from the top of your ankle all the way to the end of your hip.
You’re sitting down as Draco rests his head against your lap-begging, pleading for you to bounce on his cock and use him like the good little toy he is.
And you do.
Draco does so much for you. He would lay the world at your feet. It’s only fair that he gets a little treat.
————
hehehehehe
#slytherin boys#draco malfoy#draco malfoy smut#draco lucius malfoy#draco malfoy headcanon#draco x reader#draco malfoy x reader#slytherin boys headcanons#Draco Malfoy hc#Slytherin Boys hc#slytherin boys smut#theodore nott#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire#tom riddle#theo nott#enzo berkshire#theodore nott smut#slytherin#slytherin boys x reader#theo nott smut#Mattheo riddle
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
Silver haze: Peach Ringz
- pairing: ryomen sukuna × reader, gojo satoru x reader, getou suguru × reader, (slight gojo × getou)
- synopsis: who knew letting your fuck buddy roll on your back would lead to sweet forehead kisses and naps
- wordcount: 2.7k
- warning: fem! reader, she/her pronouns, squirting, car sex, use of drugs, smoking, mentions of marijuana, oral, throatfucking, slight dubcon, unprotected sex, degradation, sub/dom themes, creampie, slight size kink, mention of panty sniffing, mention of panty tasting >.<
part one and two
- note: after 3 years of hiatus, i birth this. please enjoy. also for my weed smokers, try the strain peach ringz, it tastes like peaches!
Your eyes widened in fear, the voice startling you to the point where you felt as if your heart was going to jump out of your mouth. You scrambled to cover yourself, Sukuna watching in amusement as he did not move to even protect his decency.
“Why do you always have to fuck things up Yuji?” Sukuna sighs, palm slapping the top of Yuji’s head.
Yuji swats his hand away and grumbles under his breath before speaking. “If anything I’m saving our sweet soon-to-be manager from your corruption.” He points accusingly. “She’s so sweet and you’re taking advantage of her!”. His words echo through your mind, various thoughts rushing from the back of your head as you start to overthink. Has he been using you? What did you even expect from your little excursions with him?
“Hey, if anything, she’s using me.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist to press you tight against his warm body. Yuji turns to face you now, eyes filled with concern and a hint of sympathy.
“Would you like me to take you home? My car’s just around the building. I bet you’re feeling a little cold right now.” His eyes soften. “I can turn on the seat warmer for you. I promise I’ll get you home safe.”
You slowly just nod your head, body and mind on autopilot as you slowly slip away from Sukuna’s grip and he lets you. Disappointment fills his entire being but he doesn’t let it show, but you’re too distraught to notice anyway.
Yuji takes you by the hand and quickly takes his sweater off to place around your shoulders, securing it before wrapping an arm around you and walking away from an irritated Sukuna, his cock now flaccid.
___
The car ride home was a blur, the event had left you feeling dismayed and a tad humiliated. It was your first day meeting Yuji and he had seen you in such a compromising position with his teammate, and in public as well! Thoughts of leaving the country and changing your name were heavy on your mind, but you knew it wasn’t the wisest decision especially when you have Suguru and Satoru to care for.
“Babe? You home?” a voice calls out.
Satoru probably, you think. You take your comforter and pull it over your head, dread filling each nerve of your body. This whole day has been a weird blur and all you’d like to do is sleep and pretend it never happened.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” Suguru asks, voice brimming with concern. He knew, they both knew, but they wanted to know what you would say. If you’d keep your little shenanigan up and lie to them once more.
“Please leave me alone.” You mumble, voice muffled by the thick comforter still covering your head. You feel comfortable and safe, but it is at that moment when Satoru decides he’s had enough and rips away your comfort and safety straight through your fingertips.
Before a yelp even leaves your throat, you’re being tackled by two oversized grown babies, each at your sides. Their limbs are long and wrapping around you, fingertips desperately but gently digging into whatever skin they can find. And their faces are close, so close you can smell the skin of their necks and cheeks, their pheromones causing you to sigh in delight.
“You both smell so good.” You sigh once more, eyes shut in absolute bliss as Satoru slowly starts mouthing at your neck, a trail of pecks with the occasional tongue darting out to taste you. But it was okay, Satoru always did weird things like this.
Suguru placed his large hand on top of your chest, palm cupping your breast, but even that was normal too. You three just had a close and affectionate relationship. There was nothing wrong with that. At least that’s what they both had told you.
“I know. You’re a weird little freak who likes to sniff me.” Suguru laughs, index finger tracing around your nipple and smirking when he sees your little bud stiffen up from a mere touch. Your breath hitches, maybe his finger just slipped.
“No, I’m not, I’m not Satoru.” You huff.
“Yeah, he’s worse. He likes to sniff your panties when you’re gone.”
“Are you fucking serious? Satoru!” A loud smack echoes through the room followed by obnoxious laughter and yelling.
“I was just sniffing it but HE was tasting it!”
“You both better be fucking with me!”
“Of course we are, we’re not crazy.”
They were.
___
A few days had gone by without seeing Sukuna, you decided that it would be better to turn down the position you were offered. In your opinion, Sukuna hadn’t done anything wrong, you’re a consenting adult and you liked it.
But it was just the embarrassment as well and his indifference to both of you getting caught in the act. You knew your relationship wasn’t serious, but you at least thought he would’ve cared a little more about your well-being and feelings.
You are human after all.
“Hey beautiful,” A familiar voice whispers in your ear. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Was that on purpose?”
You suppress the urge to roll your eyes to the back of your skull. Of course, it was on purpose and he knew that. He wasn’t stupid. “Take a guess.” You grumble, not even sparing him a glance as you speed up a little. His large hand grabs your forearm and spins you to face him, pulling you against his body, an odd habit of his.
“Can we at least talk? Maybe sit down in my car so we can have a private space? I’ll drive us somewhere quiet. I just wanna apologize.” You look at him with a raised brow and he sighs, raking his free hand through his unruly pink hair. “Jus’ hear me out, princess.”
___
You watch him as he rolls a spliff on his lap, his little weed bag containing jars of weed, a grinder, papers, and a pen. You weren’t sure what the pen was for. Maybe for emergencies.
“Do you have to smoke every time we sit in your car?” You grimace as he lights it, the pungent smell hitting you quickly. He smirks a little and wraps his pink lips around the filter, taking a long drag before turning and blowing it towards your face.
“Yeah, I do. What else am I gonna do? Not smoke?” He raises a brow. You roll your eyes. He offers you a toke and you gladly take it, needing to expel the irritation and stress coursing through your veins.
“I’m really sorry pretty girl, I am.” He starts and looks down at your lap, unable to meet your eyes as you take a few more hits. “I was a dick. I still am. I should’ve covered you up n shit.” He sighs. “Yuji ripped me a new one after he dropped you off. I feel really bad ‘nd I jus’ wanted to say I’m sorry baby.”
The weed in your system causes you to just lightly nod your head, eyes nearly fluttering shut as the familiar feeling of being high rolls through your body in what feels like waves. Your eyes shut and you feel the spliff being taken from your fingertips.
“Say something, princess.”
“S’fine. Don’t worry ‘bout it. Just have some respect for me, that’s all.” You whisper lightly.
“I promise I’ll respect you so good baby.” He grins, handing you the spliff to take the last few tokes. “So…” He starts. “We’re good now right?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“Can you suck my dick?”
“…Yeah.”
He quickly discards the roach, a giddy smile on his face as he hastily unzips his pants, not even taking the time to lower them and only pulling his stiff cock out, giving it a few strokes. You watch, entranced by the way his precum pools at the tip.
You can’t help the way your thighs squeeze and your mouth fills up with saliva. “Taste it, baby, I wanna see your slutty lips around my tip.” He speaks huskily while stroking the base of his fat cock.
You find yourself leaning over, seatbelt off in a flash and his cock in your mouth, tongue licking up his leaking cock. Sukuna throws his head back in bliss, a shaky sigh escaping his lips. All he can think about is fucking your slutty mouth ‘til you’re choking down his cum. He can’t decide if he wants to cum down your throat or cum all over your pretty face.
“Yeah, you like that? You like the way my cock tastes? Throat that shit baby, I wanna feel your throat squeeze my cock.” You feel his large hand on top of your head pushing you down, and you let him. You like it, you hate to admit it but you like the way he treats you. It feels so lewd and so wrong but it makes your pussy wet anyway.
“Fuck my dicks already numb baby. I need another fucking spliff.” He mumbles before reaching for his little bag once more. “Keep sucking my dick baby. I’m jus' gonna roll on your back so don’t go too crazy yeah?” You garble out a response, throat tightening around his cock.
You continue to slobber and lick at his cock, careful to not move your back too much as you feel his jars lined up on your spine, his grinder and tray placed carefully on the left side of your back. “You’re so fucking good for me baby, my dirty little slut sucking my cock. Fuck. You look so fucking good.” He groans, licking the paper and smoothening the sides to make the perfect cone. He then uses the pen to lightly push the contents inside, making sure to not stuff it too much.
“Almost done baby. Lemme get all this off of you and I’ll face fuck you.” You moan in response, feeling yourself relax a tad when you feel the pressure taken off of your back. He lights his spliff and you take that as a moment to catch your breath, pulling off his spit-soaked cock.
He whips his head and glares at you. He wants to be mad, but seeing your face streaming with tears, covered in precum and spit. He feels like he wants to give you a baby right then and there.
“Did I say you can stop sucking? You’re my sex slave. You do whatever the fuck I tell you to. So fucking do what I say or else I won’t fuck you.” He growls, his heavy hand smacking your ass swiftly and pushing your head back down on his throbbing dick.
“Show me you’re sorry baby. I wanna see how fucking sorry you are.” You nod tearfully. Your hand cups his balls, squeezing and playing with them in your palms. “Oh fuck.” He moans, head thrown back with his spliff held between his lips.
You relax your throat and swallow his entire cock, your face pressed tight against his pelvis. His fingers dig into your scalp, loud moans leaving his lips. “Shit. Fuck. Stay down there. Keep it down your throat baby.” You start gagging, your untrained throat failing you. “Imma cum baby, imma give your throat a fat fucking load ‘cuz you deserve it.” He moans, shallowly fucking his cock down your throat.
You feel his entire body go stiff, a loud moan breaking the short silence. You feel his cock twitching down as well as his cum going straight down your throat, his cock lodged so deep inside that swallowing was unnecessary.
He wasn’t lying, he did have a big load. You pull your head back, coughing and spitting out his large load. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. Everything feels wet and sticky. Your saliva had dripped down your chin and soaked your shirt. You’ve soaked through your panties and you can feel your thighs sticking to the leather of the seat as you sit back down.
“Tissue?” You croak out, looking at him as his chest heaves. His eyes snap open. “No.” He states bluntly. “What do you mean no? Look at me! I’m so messy!” You complain, feeling the remnants of his cum drying on your skin.
“Get in the back. I’m gonna fuck you.”
“Can I at least clean—“
“Get in the fucking back.”
___
“Suguru, she’s not answering her phone.” Gojo whines. He was a petulant child indeed. Getou sighs, irritation building. He knows where you are and who you’re with. He’s just not sure what to do about it. He wants you. Both of them do.
Sure, Gojo’s a bit more straightforward and spoiled, always expecting everyone to bend to his will. But Getou knew that if you made your choice, there would be no changing your mind.
“Hello? Suguru? Are you ignoring me?” Gojo whines once more, stomping his foot like once again, a petulant child. Getou sighs in annoyance.
“Stop acting like a kid. You know where she is, and you know what she’s doing.” He pauses. “What do you wanna do about it?”
Gojo smirks.
“I have an idea, I’m just not sure you’re up for it.”
___
The world's spinning. At this point, you’re ready to leave the earth. Your body’s gone numb and you’re struggling to breathe once more as Sukuna tightens his grip on your throat.
You’re laying on your back in the backseat of his car, legs hooked over his shoulders as he fucks into you, slow but rough. His cock batters against your cervix causing your toes to curl in both pain and pleasure.
“You’re so fucking creamy holy shit. I’m gonna have to detail my car after this.” He laughs lightly. “Every time I squeeze your throat your pussy gets tighter.” He moans, fucking into you harder.
“I wanna see you squirt on my dick baby. You think you can?”
“M-Maybe, I’ve never squirted before.” You squeal when his thumb slides down your entire abdomen and presses against your clit, the rough pads of his fingers expertly playing with your sensitive parts. He watches your facial expressions attentively, figuring out what feels good and what doesn’t.
He craves to have you lose yourself on his cock. He wants you completely dick-drunk and bending to his will. He knows you can. You’ve been so good for him, it feels as if you could be the one for him.
“Sukuna!” You moan. You feel the pressure building in your abdomen. Your pussy grips his cock tighter and you feel as if you’re about to cum, eyes rolling back into their sockets. “‘M g’nna squirt!” You mumble, too far gone in your pleasure.
“Yeah? Squirt baby. I wanna feel you soak my cock. Squirt for me and only me.” He groans, his fingers digging into the plush of your thighs as he feels your cunt squeeze around him. He doesn’t know how much longer until he loses himself. But he knows he wants you to cum first.
The pressure in your abdomen snaps and a string of whines and moans fall from your lips. Your whole body trembles as you squirt, soaking your entire bottom half as well as Sukuna’s. But he’s not satisfied. He wants much more. He continues to bully your clit with his thumb, synchronizing each thrust with a roll of your bud.
“S’kuna! I can’t! Too sensitive!” You squeal, hands gripping his forearm tightly but he doesn’t let up. He knows what he wants and he’s gonna have it.
“I’m gonna fill this fucking pussy up. I don’t give a fuck about your two bodyguards.”
“Wait! Don’t!”
“I don’t care.” He smacks your hands away. He grips your wrists in his large hand and pins them above your head, his other hand occupied.
“I’m cumming baby~” He moans, thrusting his dick as deep as his can, grinding his tip against your bruised cervix as his cum paints your walls white.
You’re both left trembling and heaving, his cock still twitching and emptying itself inside your cunt. You wonder if you’ll be able to experience this type of sex with anyone else. Or if you’ll think about the way Sukuna makes you feel your entire life.
“Wanna go back to my place and nap? We can pick up some Wingstop.” He gives you a toothy grin before kissing your forehead. You can’t do anything but nod tiredly, throat still sore from Sukuna’s abuse.
But you wonder, was it normal for fuck buddies to kiss each other's foreheads so gently?
© katsukisbimbo 2024 — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated. please be kind and enjoy
#fem reader#she/her pronouns#afab reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x y/n#ryomen sukuna#sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jujutsu kaisen smut#gojo x reader#getou x reader#tw drugs#tw dubcon#tw marijuana#tw degradation
135 notes
·
View notes
Text
Summary: you and Sirius think James would look hot with blonde highlights
Poly!prongsfoot x reader (James Potter x reader x Sirius black) | 500+ words
A/n: I am so sorry this is so short omg, I've been weirdly busy the past few days and it's been hard to find time to write
Tw: rave mentioned, reader has dyed their hair before, sleepy James, I am still learning to write James, illusions to possible smut at the end
⊹₊ ✰ ⋆★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊⊹₊ ✰ ⋆★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊⊹₊ ✰
Sirius' record player is on in the background, softer than usual. James is resting his head on your stomach. Both of you splayed out on the sofa.
Sirius is sitting on the ground, the coffee table moved to the side to make room in front of him as he makes his next outfit for a rave he mentioned, likely also planning on how to get you to let him make one for you as well.
James is barely coherent at this point; a long day making him sodding exhausted and extremely prepared for the weekend. Your nails rake through his curls, still slightly wet from his shower.
"You know, Jamie, you'd look good with dyed hair."
Jamse barely gives a sign he heard you, tightening his hold on your back and burying his face further into your shirt like he wants under your skin.
Sirius looks over at you two, "you're right, he'd look bloody hot with blonde streaks or something."
You move James head so you can see his face, squishing his cheeks, glasses already discarded on a side table. "You would look fucking hot with blonde streaks, dear Merlin."
Your other boyfriend places down the wire and needle nose pliers he's using to move closer to the couch, "you want some blonde in your hair, baby?"
He moves his face out of your hands, laying back on your stomach. "wha' 'ver you wan'" James' voice is slurred with sleep.
ᯓ★
That's how you got her a week later; you sat on the counter top of your bathroom sink, and Sirius putting on his latex gloves to mix bleach.
James sits on a wooden stool, that has seemed to make its way around the entire house since you bought it, wearing a extremely stained shirt both you and Sirius have worn while dying your own hair.
"Any regrets, lover boy?" You shimmy on the counter to sit infront of the tanner of the two boys.
"I think that it's unjust for you to manipulate me in my sleep to get me to dye my hair." James grabs your ankles, hands rubbing up and down your shins.
"You could talk; it's got to count for some kind of awareness to what's going on." Sirius grins at his counterpart, mixing the bleach and walking behind James.
"So cruel, both of you, so cruel." He juts out his bottom lip, looking up at you with a pout.
"You haven't pulled out yet, so I'm starting to believe this is just a cute little act." Your grin is nearly identical to Sirius'.
"Don't talk to him about pulling out, love, we won't be able to finish before he gets restless." The darker haired boy laughs as he adjusts James head.
"Both, so, so bloody cruel."
ᯓ★
James' hair took to the dye pretty well, only ending up needing two rounds of bleach.
And fuck, you where right. He looks fucking hot. The blonde, thick, streaks that curl perfectly into his brown hair pattern.
"Bloody hell-" Sirius talks between kissing James "your look-" kiss "fucking delicous"
Sirius pauses for a second to look at you walking through the door of your home, throwing your bag to the ground and toeing off your shoes. "Come here, doll."
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter x sirius black#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#James potter fluff#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black imagine#sirius black x james potter#sirius black oneshot#sirius black fluff#Sirius black#marauders era fic#marauders fanfiction#marauders#marauders era#marauders fic#marauders x reader#marauders era fanfiction#poly!prongsfoot#poly!prongsfoot x reader#poly!prongsfoot x y/n#poly!prongsfoot x you#poly!prongsfoot imagine#james potter x Sirius black x reader#poly!prongsfoot oneshot
91 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Pitfalls of Silk (m)
synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series
p.jimin x f.reader
⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k
⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst
⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3
⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys
18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni
The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.
While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!
But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.
You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.
Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.
In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.
It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.
Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!
Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!
The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.
Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.
A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?
“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.
It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.
Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.
What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.
You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.
You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.
You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?
…
You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.
Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.
You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?
Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.
Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.
If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.
It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.
But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.
Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~
Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–
Bang.
What the fuck was that?
Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.
A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.
You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…
Human.
Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.
The room, it freezes over.
Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.
If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.
That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.
But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.
The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–
At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.
No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.
The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.
You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.
Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.
He sees you before you see him.
“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.
Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.
Just as petrified as you.
Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.
Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.
He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.
The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.
He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.
Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.
He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.
What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–
Holy shit he must be frozen solid.
It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.
His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.
Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.
The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.
“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.
“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.
“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”
You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.
It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.
He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.
He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.
Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.
You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.
You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.
Don’t notice the recognition on his face.
You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.
You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.
The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.
Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.
You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.
Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.
You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.
“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.
You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?
Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.
“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.
“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.
“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.
“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”
It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.
“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.
“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”
You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.
“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”
You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.
“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”
“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”
“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.
“I’m sorry…”
He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”
The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.
“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.
“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”
He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.
“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.
“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”
You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.
“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”
He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.
“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”
“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?
You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.
His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.
Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.
“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”
“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.
“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”
He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.
“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”
“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.
“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.
All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.
He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.
As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.
Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.
To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.
Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.
You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.
You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.
Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.
One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.
But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.
So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.
A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.
“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.
It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.
He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.
Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.
Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.
You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.
“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.
You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.
But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.
“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.
His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.
“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.
“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”
Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.
A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”
He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.
“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.
“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.
Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.
How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.
You frown.
“Min, I’m so sorry…”
He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.
“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.
“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?
“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?
“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.
Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.
Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.
Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.
“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”
You shake your head, “what?”
“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.
You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.
“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.
He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”
You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.
“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”
His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?
The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.
Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.
You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.
A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.
“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”
You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”
A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.
He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.
Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.
He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.
“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.
“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”
A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.
You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.
He can.
“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.
You have to buy those glasses.
Being a spider is just too difficult!
At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.
It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”
Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.
Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.
You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.
That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.
His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.
His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.
In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.
At least, that’s what he tells you.
The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.
Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.
It always works. Always will.
Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.
No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.
r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.
You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–
You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.
Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.
But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.
Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.
You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.
Or maybe you’re over thinking things.
Yeah. It’s probably that.
“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.
His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.
Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.
He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.
“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.
He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.
The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.
You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.
“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”
“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”
His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.
You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.
“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.
Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.
Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.
The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.
Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.
The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.
Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.
Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.
And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.
A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.
“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.
Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.
It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.
A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.
A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.
To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.
“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.
He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.
He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.
You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.
Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.
He’ll win it soon. August.
“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.
Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!
“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”
“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”
His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.
Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.
That’s what he promises to himself.
“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.
Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.
Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.
His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.
You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.
Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.
You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.
“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.
Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.
You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.
Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.
Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.
“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!
You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.
But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.
If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.
“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.
Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.
Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”
“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.
His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.
Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.
“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.
Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.
“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.
“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.
You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”
His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.
He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.
It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.
Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.
Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.
It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.
“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”
His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.
How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.
Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.
He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.
Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.
But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.
Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.
Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.
Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.
Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.
So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.
You think you might hate them.
You sigh.
No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.
You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.
“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”
August 11th.
A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.
Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.
Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.
But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.
“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.
“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”
“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.
You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.
Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.
You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.
Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.
August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.
A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.
Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.
“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.
Gorgeous, gorgeous you.
Mate.
“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.
No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.
Wait, does he have your love yet?
Now he isn’t sure.
All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.
More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.
The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?
Wait, spider.
Spider.
His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.
He hasn’t even presented his web yet.
He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.
“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.
That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.
He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.
The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.
He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.
So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.
He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.
He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.
Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.
“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.
He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.
“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.
Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.
He hadn’t even noticed it.
He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.
Leave. Leave. Leave.
The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.
Leave. He needs to leave.
He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.
A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?
No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?
He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.
The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.
A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?
You are.
“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?
And so you do.
He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.
To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–
Shit.
He needs to leave.
Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.
His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.
He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.
The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.
You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.
It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.
He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.
You’re sick of it.
Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.
So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.
Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.
You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.
Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.
Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.
He doesn’t. He never would.
His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.
You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.
His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.
Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.
Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.
You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.
Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.
Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.
You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.
“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.
“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”
Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.
You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.
“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”
“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”
“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.
He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”
Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”
“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.
It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.
You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.
“Okay.”
He holds your hand as you walk.
Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.
You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.
The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.
Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.
He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.
It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.
Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.
You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.
Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.
As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.
You almost want to curl up in it yourself.
Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.
You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.
“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”
He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.
He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.
Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.
He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–
No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.
“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”
His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.
You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.
You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?
Oh.
It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.
You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?
Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.
You’re an idiot.
“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.
His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.
“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.
The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.
You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.
Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.
Only him.
Only Jimin.
He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.
His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.
He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.
His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.
His spider is winning.
“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.
“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.
His spider has won.
Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.
His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.
You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.
His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.
Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.
He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.
Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.
Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.
He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.
You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.
His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.
“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.
“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”
He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.
Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?
He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!
His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.
A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?
“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.
His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.
“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.
Tie you up. Breed full.
Breed you.
His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.
His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.
See exactly how you struggle against the strings.
Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.
You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.
“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.
Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.
He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?
“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”
You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.
“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.
Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.
He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.
You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.
Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.
“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.
“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.
You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”
The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.
You’ve both done enough waiting.
It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.
The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.
“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.
“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.
Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.
Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.
“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.
He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.
“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”
He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.
“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”
You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.
“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.
His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.
Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.
He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.
You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.
All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.
Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.
“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.
Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.
He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.
“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”
“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.
Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.
“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.
A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.
“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”
His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.
He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.
“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”
He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.
No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.
“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.
“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.
His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.
Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.
He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.
Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.
He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.
The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.
“I love you.”
“Y/n! Hurry up!”
The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.
“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.
“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”
He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.
You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.
He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.
He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.
All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.
You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.
It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.
Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.
“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.
You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”
He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.
You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.
His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.
The human way is never easy for him.
“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.
“Hybrid’s do it different?”
“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.
“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.
“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”
He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”
Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.
The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.
“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.
The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.
“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.
“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.
You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.
The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.
“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”
“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”
“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”
You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.
Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.
“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.
You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.
And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.
You wouldn’t have it any other way.
⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!
© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.
#jimin x reader#jimin smut#bts x reader#bts smut#bts#jimin#park jimin#park jimin x reader#yandere bts#yandere jimin#hybrid bts#hybrid jimin#jimin x you#jimin x y/n#hybrid bts smut#bts reactions#bts drabble#bts oneshot#bts imagines#bts fanfic#bts hybrid au#jimin fanfic#jimin fic#bangtan x reader#bangtan#bangtan smut#🖇️ ctrl.the pitfalls of silk
111 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
felixpatico-blog1
Félix
mikey180
when you need that one character
astronomergrump
Reese
xxyung1upxx
Legendary Kidd