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daisynik7 · 4 months

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Make Me Sweat

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Word Count: ~2.5k

cw: written with a curvy reader in mind, canon-divergent (post-Shibuya but a happy one), all characters are 18+, explicit language, smut – cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, spit play, PIV sex (cowgirl position, mating press), breeding kink, praise kink, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, baby, pretty girl, good girl), creampie

Summary: With the start of the new year, you make it one of your resolutions to become more active. You begin at your apartment's fitness center, where you run into your muscle head, loud-mouth next-door neighbor, Aoi Todo. He offers his gratuitous advice, annoying you at first. But when he suggests a particular kind of workout, it piques your interest enough that you can't refuse.

Author’s Note: I used metric units (kg) to describe the weights. Also, I am no expert in lifting so please take all of this with a grain of salt LOL. I just know that canonically, these characters are fucking STRONG. I stopped with the tag list on this one bc technically this was a bonus fic and I wasn't sure if anyone wanted to be tagged in these. With that, please enjoy some shameless smut about our favorite JJK himbo! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

part 6 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series

When you said you wanted to start exercising more, you weren’t expecting this: being bounced up and down your next-door neighbor’s impressively huge cock. Yet, here you are, getting pounded with your ass slapping lewdly on his thighs. His big hands dig into the sides of your belly, his lips on the skin of your neck, voice gruff and husky. “Told you, didn’t I?”

Let’s rewind to a few hours earlier.

You haven’t been prioritizing yourself lately; your obligations during the day drain all the energy from you and your bed is always so enticing for a nap. When the new year approaches, you make it one of your resolutions to be more active. The gym in your apartment complex is finally open after being renovated the past three months and now, there’s really no excuses when the opportunity is just five floors below you. Your forego your usual nap and suit up in your favorite workout clothes, heading down the elevator to the fitness center.

Luckily, it isn’t crowded; the only other people inside are Aoi Todo, your neighbor, and his pink-haired buddy, Yuji. They’re both at the weights section, Yuji doing squats with the barbell while Todo spots him, yelling at him encouragingly. “Come on, brother. Hold it, hold it! You got this!”

Yuji grunts, holding the deadlift for as long as possible, eventually dropping it to the floor with a loud thud. Todo claps emphatically, beaming at him. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

You smile to yourself, amused at Todo’s contagious enthusiasm. When he notices you, he gives you a nod, which you return, slightly embarrassed for being caught watching.

Have you mentioned yet how fucking ripped he is? Today, he wears a loose tank, arm holes cut low to show off his extraordinary physique. Arms bulging with muscles, an incredibly large chest, a well-defined eight-pack. He’s built like a Spartan warrior, ready for battle, destined for victory. It’s impossible to ignore a body like his, even more impossible to ignore his eccentric attitude, which gets on your nerves when you have to listen to his noisy demeanor on the opposite side of the wall.

The cardio section is on the other side of room, so you make your way to one of the treadmills, setting the level to a walking pace for a quick warm-up. Before you put your headphones in to listen to music, you eavesdrop of their conversation, observing them from your peripheral.

“Good shit, brother,” Todo says, massaging his shoulders affectionately.

Yuji scratches his head, grinning. “Still got work to do to match my PR. After Shibuya, my strength hasn’t been the same.”

“You’re still the strongest fucker I know. Besides me, of course,” Todo adds, chuckling. “Spot me before you go.”

They replace the already notable weights with what you suspect are heavier ones. Yuji whistles through his teeth. “300. You’re losing your touch, don’t you think?” he teases, nudging him in the ribs.

Todo digs into a container of powdered chalk, coating his fingers with it. “I’m taking it easy today. Don’t want to over-exert myself in case something exciting happens later.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He grabs on to the barbell, smirking. “I don’t know yet. We’ll see.” Maybe it’s your imagination, but you can almost swear that his eyes meet yours for a split second in the reflection of the mirror.

You continue to observe as Todo easily deadlifts 300 kg, as if it weighs nothing to him, repeating this ten times without breaking a sweat.

Yuji laughs, helping him rerack. “That’s crazy.”

Todo pats his back. “You’ll get there soon, brother. Once you’re fully recovered, you’ll be lifting more than me, I’ll make sure of that.” His unwavering support is actually endearing. Sure, he can be obnoxious, but this side of him is charming.

Unfortunately, this sentiment doesn’t last long. Once Yuji leaves, Todo decides to choose the treadmill right beside you, purposefully neglecting the surrounding unoccupied cardio machines. You’re still at a walking pace, eyeing him suspiciously as he stands there, blatantly watching you with a cocky grin. “Did you enjoy the show?”

Avoiding his gaze, staring at the console in front of you, you mutter, “Excuse me, but I’m trying to focus here.”

“Focus on what? Walking?” he scoffs, leaning on the handrail nearest to you. “You’re not going to get far if you keep going at a snail’s pace.”

You roll your eyes, finally looking at him. “So what do you suggest, Oh-Wise-One?”

It’s meant to be sarcastic, but of course, he thinks you’re genuinely asking. “You’ve got to alternate between high intensity and low intensity. Sprint for thirty seconds, then walk for a minute to cool off. Then repeat. Simple as that.”

As much as you appreciate the gratuitous advice, you’re already familiar with high intensity interval training. You’re just nervous to actually do it, not confident in your running abilities. “I’m not a good runner,” you admit.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Come on, show me what you got.” He crosses his arms over his pecs, waiting.

Deciding it’s better to relent to him rather than argue, you brace yourself, upping the speed so that you’re doing an easy jog.

“You can do better than that!” he hollers, reaching for the controls to increase the level, making the track move faster and faster. You’re sprinting full speed now, lasting about thirty seconds before you swat him away, tugging at the emergency shut off cord to stop it.

You catch your breath, glaring at him, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. "What the fuck, are you trying to kill me?!"

He’s unfazed by your outburst and oblivious to the asshole move he made. “Don’t be so dramatic. You did great. You have really nice form.”

You don’t let his compliments dissuade you from being angry at him. “You can’t just do that without any warning. I’m still getting used to all this.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “I won’t do that again.” He watches you take long sips from your water bottle, scanning your figure up and down. A coy smirk spreads across his face. "You know, if running ain't your thing, there are other workouts we can try that might suit you better."

You continue to drink, gradually regaining your composure. "Like what?"

He leans in close to you, breath hot on your ear. "Sex."

You choke on your water, using your towel to wipe the mess. Ready to give him an earful, he hops off the track, walking towards the exit. "If you want to work up a real sweat, you know where to find me. I promise to make it worth your while.”

And with that, he's gone, leaving you speechless. And intrigued.

~~~

After dinner, you take a long shower, Todo’s unconventional suggestion replaying continuously in your mind. You’re almost certain it’s a ridiculous joke, though the more you analyze it, the less ridiculous it seems. In fact, by the time you’re drying off in front of the mirror, checking your reflection carefully, you’re seriously considering it. You’re not particularly tired from earlier, so maybe you have room for one more workout. And hey, if the offer still stands, why not take it?

You slide into a different pair of leggings, one that shows off your curves, and slip on a t-shirt, fulling prepared to exercise. In your running shoes, you walk the few steps next door and knock twice. When he doesn’t answer within the first ten seconds, panic sets in and you’re tempted to turn on your heel to retreat. Before you can, the door swings open and you’re greeted by Todo’s bare bust. He smirks, not at all surprised to see you standing in front of him. “Hey.”

Swallowing the thick saliva gathering on your tongue, you let out a meek, “Hello.” His enormous frame towers over you and you can’t help but salivate at the sight of him. You always assumed he’d be the type of guy to walk around shirtless in his apartment. Not that you’re complaining.

He beckons you inside, closing and locking the door shut behind him. “Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him, cracking a smile simultaneously. “Well, it’d be rude to turn down such a generous offer, right?”

He lets out a small laugh, stepping towards you, gripping at your hips to pull you into him. “I knew you were a smart girl.”

You’ve severely underestimated how much bigger he is than you until this moment, as you peer up at him eagerly. “Todo.”

He bows his head down, mouth grazing your ear. “Aoi.”

“Aoi,” you repeat, breath hitching.

“Good girl,” he praises, making you shudder with anticipation. “Tell me exactly what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

You paw at his chest, admiring his sculpted muscles, pressing your fingers into them without even making a dent. “I want you to give me that workout you promised me.”

“Yeah?” he croons, his noticeable erection strained in his sweatpants. “You want this fat fucking cock, don’t you?”

He’s as vulgar as you imagined he’d be and it only spurs you on. You link your arms around his neck, on your tippy-toes to meet him for a kiss. Instead, he hoists you up, holding you with his hands below your ass, your legs wrapped around his waist. His boner throbs as you buck your hips on him, desperate for friction on your aching clit. “You feel it, don’t you?” he purrs, grinding you against him. “That’s all for you.”

He carries you into the bedroom, kissing you sloppily with his massive tongue invading your mouth. When he can’t take it anymore, he tosses you onto the mattress, stripping his clothes off swiftly, you doing the same. He crawls on top of you, ogling your naked body, a lustful gleam in his expression. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“You’re so fucking big,” you blurt out in response, not knowing a better word to describe him. Because everywhere you look, Aoi Todo is big. Big biceps, a tremendous torso, a huge fucking cock ready to fill you the fuck up. You spread your legs open for him, practically begging for him to fuck you.

“Look at this perfect pussy,” he coos, face inching closer to your cunt. He hocks a thick wad of spit directly onto your clit, smearing it with his tongue. “So wet for me.”

You squirm beneath him, unable to control yourself. “Fuck, Aoi,” you swear, toes already curling from the sensation.

“I’m going to make you come first. Make this pussy extra creamy for my dick. Is that okay, sweetheart?” He massages circles into your clit with his thumb, looking up at you from between your thighs.

“Yes,” you whine, trembling with arousal.

“Good girl,” he says again, and you realize how fucking sexy it is when he praises you like this. “Can I finger you too?”

“Oh god, yes,” you moan, growing impatient, needy for whatever he’s willing to offer you.

With his lips latched to your clit, he teases your entrance with his middle finger, slowly sliding deeper until he bottoms out. He adds another digit, pumping inside you while he sucks on your bud, tongue swirling around it. You rock your hips against his face, greedy for more. Todo hums, encouraging you, the vibrations spurring you on until it’s too much. You come for him after a few more strokes, gushing all over his face. You reach down to grab his hair, trying to pry him off you, but he’s obviously way stronger and more resilient. “One more,” he muffles, chin shiny with your slick, his tongue flicking your clit. “For me.” He flashes you a cocky smirk that makes him even more impossible to deny.

You throw your head back into the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, hazy-eyed from the pleasure. The squelch of his fingers in and out of your wet cunt is obscene, combined with the shameless moans pouring out of you. After your second climax, or maybe it’s the third (you’ve lost count), he finally eases off you, slurping his digits clean to swallow up your juices. “You’re doing so good for me, pretty girl.” He strokes his cock in his fist, tapping the glistening head on your swollen clit. “It’s going to feel fucking amazing.”

You hum, the only response you can muster in this fucked-out state.

“How do you want it, sweetie?” He lifts you off the bed, having you straddle his lap. “You want to ride me?”

You nod, resting your head on his shoulder, yearning for anything. “Yes.”

“Fuck yeah,” he growls, slapping your ass before guiding his cock into your slippery cunt. You gasp, astonished by the extraordinary girth of him filling you up to the hilt. “You’re swallowing me up.” He spreads your cheeks apart, squeezing your ass in his grip. “That’s my girl.”

You gaze at him, pressing your forehead to his, sticky with sweat. “Fuck me,” you whimper, kissing him fiercely, completely enraptured by him.

He does, bouncing you on his lap, hitting your sweet spot over and over until you’re unraveling for him once more. “Told you, didn’t I? Told you I’d make it worth your while.”

Whatever semblance of rationale you had is gone. All you can think of is Todo’s manhandling you like a fucking rag doll, pliable and yielding to his every touch. Before you reconsider it, you spout the words, “Breed me,” wishing nothing more but to have his hot load leaking out of your cunt.

As if he wasn’t already feral enough, he most certainly is now, planting his feet on the bed to fuck up into you faster and harder. “That’s what you really want? You want my fucking seed in you? Oh fuck. I’ll give it to you, then. I’ll give it to you so fucking good.”

It happens quickly; you’re on your back again, folded nearly in half, knees to your chest, Todo fucking you in a mating press like his goddamn life depends on it. The mattress creaks noisily with each savage thrust he delivers. Sweat drips from his face onto yours as you kiss each other passionately, his massive body surrounding you as he floods your womb with his cum. “Fuck, milk it all out of me baby. That’s it. That’s my girl.”

You stay like this for a moment, allowing yourselves to catch you breaths and cool down. This really was a workout. Todo takes his time, reluctantly pulling out and watching his cum ooze out of you.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you sigh, hiding your face in the pillow.

He gets comfortable beside you, giving you a smooch on the forehead. “Honestly, I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“Really?” You look at him, cupping his cheek gently, wiping the perspiration off his brow with your thumb.

He smiles, nuzzling into your palm. “Yeah.”

“Then maybe we should make this a regular thing,” you suggest as you snuggle into his arms.

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he agrees, embracing you.

And just like that, you have yourself a new and very, very personal trainer.

#todo aoi #todo x reader #todo jjk #todo smut #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #to all the boys who live next door #todo x you

1K notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 2 months

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touch and sketch

stuck with an artist’s block, Jongho’s friend introduces you to be his model for his project, which ends up introducing a whole whirlwind of problems, especially when you're modelling nude for him, and he realises how pent up he is on top realising how attracted he is to you.

Genres/warnings: smut, pwp, artist jongho (bc he’s the only who can actually draw 😭), nude modeling for art, perverted! Jongho who’s actually pent up, unprotected sex, sexual tension, kinda fluff?, oral (m receive), tit/nipple licking, masturbation, blowjob, cumming on garment, cream pie, Wooyoung is lowkey a wingman, bathrobe is a paid actor

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee

🩷stay perverted: the masterlist

The back of Jongho's wooden pencil taps against his sketch book. The page has faint lines of messy sketches, erased over and over again. Eraser dust is scattered all over his desk, especially around his notebook. Jongho sighs, dropping his pencil, where it rolls into the crook of the notebook before he gets up to grab his third cup of coffee. Artist's block is a common occurrence, but this came at the wrong fucking time. Not when he has deadlines to meet.

He glances over at the large blank canvas propped up on the easel. It doesn’t help that his model bailed last minute because something came up. Now he’s left uninspired, without a model, and a shit ton of piling works to submit before the month ends. Sure, two and a half weeks sounded long, but for an artist? It’s almost a death sentence with the amount of work sketches he needs to come up with, let alone the large glaring canvas serving a reminder that his final piece is due altogether.

Knocking from the studio door echoes in the room, snapping Jongho out of his thoughts and worries, at least for the time being. There is a pause before the door pushes open, Wooyoung’s head peeping from the door.

“Hyung”, Jongho greets, settling his mug onto the table, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his trousers. Wooyoung’s eyes are bright, and he looks like he has something to tell Jongho, and he hopes that it’s good news.

“I’ve got good news for you, buddy”, Wooyoung says, dragging a stool to sit beside his junior. “I found a replacement model.”

Jongho’s tired eyes suddenly lighten up. Fuck, there’s hope. Maybe he can wing this shit especially when one of his worries has been elevated by a whole ton.

“How?” Jongho asks, his fingers idly twirling the pencil.

“I’ve got my ways. You owe me dinner, bro”, Wooyoung smiles, patting Jongho’s back gently. “But you can do that when you’re done with your submissions.”

Jongho has never felt relief this large like the ocean, washing over him over and over again. He feels like he can breathe once more. He looks up at Wooyoung, his eyes reflecting a glint of hope of completely escaping his hell.

“Thank you, Hyung. I really am eternally grateful for you”, Jongho sighs, dropping the pencil back to the desk as Wooyoung snatches his phone to enter the model’s number into Jongho’s phone.

Wooyoung dons his signature smile before he heads for the door. He pauses for a moment before he turns to Jongho.

“She’ll come in tomorrow. Don’t scare her off okay?”

Jongho scoffs at Wooyoung’s words, but he nods before he waves Wooyoung off, then going back to his empty sketch book, attempting to drown in his work once more, hopefully with an ounce of progress this time at least.

You glance down at the message from the number Wooyooung passed to you the day before. He told you he had a friend who needed a model for his art finals, and that he was pretty desperate because his previous model cancelled on him. You didn’t think much of it, considering that you did help a couple of your close friends to model for their art finals too, and accepted without much thought.

“He’s a polite guy, but he’s a little shy. Don’t bite him okay?” Wooyoung reminded you, receiving a soft smack to his arm from you in response.

You look up at the art studio, double checking the signage before knocking on the door.

There’s silence. You furrow your eyebrows and knock again after a few seconds.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door before the door pulls open to reveal a boy with glasses that sit loosely on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks are chubby, and his whole demeanour reminds you of a…bear? Something about him looks so cuddly. But he looks like a mess—his brunette hair tousled, his eye bags are slightly prominent, and it makes you wonder how much this poor dude has been slaving away for his work.

You force a smile. “Hey! I’m y/n. You’re Choi Jongho right?”

Jongho blinks before it seems like a lightbulb has gone off in his head. His eyes slightly brightens up, and he shifts a little to let you into his studio.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Thank you for accepting such a last minute thing. I’ll compensate you once I’m done”, Jongho greets, shutting the door behind him.

You take a step into the studio, taking in the small and cluttered space. Canvases and easels stands take up space on the floors and corners, different types of papers, pens, brushes and palettes covering the desk. There is a couch in the middle of the room, probably for the model, dusted clean, with a large piece of fabric hastily draped over the piece of furniture.

He plants himself on the roller chair before he turns to you, gesturing to you to sit on the couch, and you take the offer, trying to relax against the fabric beneath you.

“So”, Jongho begins, flipping a smaller notebook open, scanning through the bullet points he wrote. “I need you to come in quite often for the next two weeks, at least until I’m done with this, so I’ll have to trouble you a bit.” You shake your head reassuringly.

“No worries, I’m done with my finals, so I’ve got time to spare.”

Jongho nods, and he starts with briefing you on the details of the schedule, and he pauses at the final bit. He seems hesitant.

“…And for this piece, I need you to model nude”, he finally says. Then he looks up. “Are you okay with that?” You see pink tint dusted at the tips of his ears, but his expression remains firm. But he continues, his gaze switching back to his moleskin-esque looking notebook, “this one is gonna take the longest because as you can see”, his hands gestures to the large, blank canvas that sat in the middle of the studio, “it’s definitely going to take awhile.” He’s done, and you see his fingers fidgeting with the dangling ribbon of his notebook.

“Sure. Do we get started now? We should right?”, you respond, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips, watching hints of relief flood Jongho’s expression as he relaxes slightly. “I’ll compensate you well, I promise”, the male artist sighs in relief.

Of course, he doesn’t have you model nude immediately. He doesn’t want to scare you off, not when he knows how fucking difficult it is to get a model, let alone someone to model nude for him. But he has you do simple poses, poses that he manages to transfer into gorgeous sketches in his sketch book that he feels relief in seeing filled up. It’s amazing to see Jongho at work—how he’s concentrated at fixing your poses at the smallest angles and movements, and how he’s able to replicate real life into drawings. It was almost like magic.

You take a small sip of coffee that Jongho made for you as you watch the pencil in his fingers make rough, yet confident strokes on the paper, all of it coming together.

You observe that he’s rather quiet for the most part, or maybe he’s just absorbed in his own works. So from time to time, you would talk to him, sometimes making coffee for him in between sessions, which Jongho is definitely grateful for. Undoubtedly, he slowly starts to open up, on top of making progress on his assignments. If anything, you thought it was nothing short of attractive Jongho looked when he was fully focused onto his crafts.

The sixth day is when he gives you a head’s up to start modelling for him in nude. By then, the both of you were more comfortable with each other, especially spending quite a bit of time in close proximity, not to mention, despite his seemingly cool demeanour, Jongho was a very easy person to get along with.

“Have you done this before?” Jongho asks, as he sifts through large canvases, looking for the one that is perfect. “Yeah, a couple of times”, you reply, squeezing the bathrobe in your arms.

“I’ve drawn the curtains and locked the door. You can remove your clothes behind the folding screen there”, he points over before going back to setting up his charcoals onto the easel.

It doesn’t take you long to walk out from behind the folding screens in a bathrobe, and Jongho is still setting up his canvas. He looks over when he hears your footsteps growing closer, then gestures to the couch, now with a large piece of white silk fabric draped over. “You can get ready over there”, he instructs.

You drop the robe, letting it hang over the couch as you get yourself comfortable on the furniture. You shiver slightly at the cold breeze from the ceiling fan, and well, also because you were currently naked.

When Jongho is finally done with setting up, his attention turns to you, and he’s rooted to the ground for a good few seconds as his eyes wander all over your body and your pretty little features, and for a moment, his breath is caught in his throat.

Here’s the thing, Jongho has had models model nude for him—both men and women. He’s not phased, because that’s just part of what he needs to do—capture anatomy at it’s rawest form and sketch them onto his papers. But then, here’s the thing—he suddenly cannot seem to focus when his eyes are on you.

“So, how should I pose, Mr Artist?” You ask with a small smile on your face, snapping him out of his little thoughts. Jongho looks pretty flushed—you notice the tips of his ears are growing slightly red, but he walks over where you are.

“If you don’t mind”, he asks, and you shake your head, holding your breath when you feel his warm touch against your bare skin as he gently positions you.

“Lie down for me and face the canvas. I’ll position your arms and legs for you”, Jongho says. You let yourself rest on the plush couch, and you feel Jongho’s hands all over you once more, resting under your ams as he positions it on the couch. Your eyes follow his movements, noticing how he would glance past your chest, but then pause when he has to touch your lower body. The red at the tip of his ears is starting to flush his entire ear by now. His fingers brush against your thighs, and you try not to fidget too much, and hope he doesn’t feel the goosebumps he’s giving you. Jongho manages to position your legs the way he wants them to look before he hastily gets up and scurries back to the canvas.

“I might need you to stay like that, at least until I’m finished with the rough sketch. Could you hold on for me until then?” He asks, his eyes slowly trailing down your whole body, trying to keep the image in his head.

“I’ll try my best”, you reply with a smile.

Jongho tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay, at least, until he finishes the sketches. He lets his hands do the magic, the graphite pressing against the canvas as the quick strokes begin taking shape.

The process definitely took awhile, and you were grateful that Jongho positioned you in a pose where it was relatively comfortable, at least. The both of you would have small conversations in between, and it definitely helped ease the tension. When Jongho’s head would peek out from the side of the canvas, you would internally giggle to yourself, thinking how much he looks like a little bear looking for food.

Although the first day of the nude modelling went well, for some reason, Jongho can’t seem to get you out of his head, well your body, specifically. The touch of your skin still burns on his, and he barely is able to shake off the growing tension in his body. He slaps his cheeks.

Few more days, Jongho. Just a few more days.

The following days go by, not with their own problems—not with the art piece though, thankfully, but with you. The more he stares at you, the more he can’t seem to get his mind out of the gutter. Each passing day he thought he would grow more used to looking at your bare body, but apparently not, because his cheeks would heat up whenever he’s shading or blending, especially nearing your chest and thighs, when he has to look over, his gaze lingering a little too long, at the same time, thinking about how ridiculous he feels about this. Jongho mentally slaps himself, and forces his attention back to the canvas, his shading already halfway done.

But as his glances continue to stay longer on you, the sudden thought of his fantasies bubble up right at that moment—the way you’re writhing underneath him, taking his thick cock inch by inch on the couch that you were supposed to be modelling on, his bare skin against yours. His mind begins to float at the expressions you would make, the things you would say, and his grip on his charcoal tightens.

Jongho pauses there, his mind swimming in the depths of sin, his charcoal paused in mid air. His erection is pressing against his cargo pants. He internally curses, thankful that the canvas is big enough to hide whatever embarrassment he’s holding right now.

As the drawing slowly blooms on the canvas, you could take more frequent breaks in between sessions. At first, you’d wear the bathrobe fully, but as you slowly become more comfortable, you wouldn’t even tie the bathrobe, letting your nipples peek through the large opening, and boy, did that sometimes send Jongho’s head spinning when you’re teasing him like that.

Everything seems to almost snap during another one of your breaks, you quietly walk over to Jongho’s side, your bathrobe only draping over your shoulders watching him blend out the charcoal. The smell of your body soap hits him and floods all of his senses, and Jongho stills, his mind completely surrounded by you.

And that’s when realises his cock is rock hard, and that you are standing just over his shoulder, barely covered.

“I really like your art style”, you compliment, your eyes tracing the lines. You lean in forward, and your hand presses against his shoulders to balance yourself, followed by your body weight. All Jongho can do is force a smile while his heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

When you leave few hours later, Jongho stays behind to finish and clean up. He doesn’t know how he was able to pull through the rest of the session with an erection just pressing painfully against his pants, but the moment he goes to the couch to collect the bathrobe, he cracks. The smell of you lingers on the piece of garment and Jongho feels like he’s about to fucking burst. He slides his bottoms off, including his underwear, letting his wet cock sit heavily against his abdomen with a relieved sigh.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

Lifting the garment to his nose, your smell completely engulfs him, and his hand is on his cock, giving it a couple of pumps, soft groans leaving his lips. His hips buck into his hand, desperate to speed up while day dreaming about you between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head, looking up at him with fluttered lashes, then slowly pulling out, agonisingly slow that it drives Jongho crazy, before you pump him and let him cum all over your bare tits.

Jongho’s hips jerk, accompanied by a whine at that imagery. He fucking swears you look ethereal bare like that, but his cum on you? He thinks you’ll look like the perfect masterpiece. The bathrobe falls slightly, and drapes over his cock, and Jongho decides to fuck his hand over the garment, while still letting himself go drunk over your smell.

“Y/n, fuck. Deeper. Oh gods”, His mind slowly growing more hazy at the thought of you doing things to him. Before he knows it, a pleasured whimper slips past his lips, his eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds of his cock being fucked by his hand grow louder, more faster and more wetter, as his orgasm bubbles over, warm and thick all over the bathrobe.

He’s fucked.

The next day, Jongho is completely in a blur, but he’s almost done, much to both his relief and dismay, mostly because he wants to see you more often. The sinful act he committed lingers freshly in his mind, and the slight of you wearing the bathrobe, loose over your body, when he just cummed on it the night before (although he still washed it), has his cock jump in his pants again. He internally prays for the session to go quickly, or smoothly at least, because he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

On your break, you stand behind him again, watching him skilfully use his fingers to blend out the charcoal, his movements growing slower at your scent once more.

“Oh, that means you’re almost done, aren’t you?” You ask, your sides leaning onto him, only separately by the useless garment hugging you loosely.

“Yeah. It’s just a little more blending and we can wrap up”, Jongho manages to reply. He doesn’t catch you taking one of the charcoal. He doesn’t catch you with that playful stare while you slightly stain your hands with it. And he definitely doesn’t catch your playful intentions when you smudge your fingers against his face, a stroke of charcoal that streaked down his cheek while he blinks in utter shock. He glances up at you with a pout before hastily getting off his chair.

A wide smile spreads over your face before you giggle and run away, with Jongho giving chase after you.

“Come back here!”, he yells playfully, chasing you around the studio, which only makes you giggle even more. “That was rude as hell, y/n!”

His hands manage to grab your wrists, and you’re pinned onto the couch, the bathrobe sliding off your shoulders, all the way down your arm. Jongho is just inches above you, panting slightly from chasing you.

“Caught ya”, he presses his hands on your face, streaking a charcoal stain down your cheek as well, for payback, reflecting your smile before it completely disappears. You stare back at him breathlessly, your eyes lowering to his lips before shifting back to his eyes.

He slowly lets go of your wrists, his hands sliding to your jaw. Your arms hug his neck, and before you realise it, Jongho’s lips are soft and wet against yours, parting your lips to let his tongue swipe your bottom lip. A soft groan is pulled from you as he tugs gently against your bottom lip, feeling slick slowly puddling from the arousal. Jongho’s hands slide down to your thighs, pushing them open while his lips keep yours occupied, his mind slowly blanking out.

When the both of you pull back, you can’t help but relish at the way Jongho still looks so fucking good even after that steamy make out session. He looks starved, and so pent up, even more evident when you feel the hardness of his cock just pressing onto your thigh through his pants.

You press your bare leg against his erection, and Jongho lets out a whimper.

“Let me help you with that”, you offer, shifting so that it was Jongho on the couch. You tug at the waistband of his shorts, and his cock comes into view, as heavy as it was the night before, transparent fluids coating the tip of his length.

His breathing grows more ragged, because he can’t believe that this is happening.

“So fucking pretty”, you smile, before sticking your tongue out, giving licks from the base to the top, sending Jongho’s mind into a complete frenzy. “How long have you been pent up like this, babe?”

Babe. Jongho’s breath is caught in his throat. “Awhile”, is all he manages to answer, his abdomen flexing from the way you’re stroking him with your hands.

You don’t give him any warning before pushing your head down, letting your mouth cover the entirety of his cock, letting it hit the back of your throat. Jongho’s knuckles are growing white from how hard he’s gripping the silk fabric on the couch, his other hand tugging at your scalp.

“F-fuck. Don’t stop. Please. It feels so fucking good”, he whimpers, slowly turning into a sob, his hips fucking into your mouth. You pull back slowly, letting him watch his cock emerge from your mouth, wet and sticky with a coy smile.

“Feels better than in your little fantasies, doesn’t it?”

Jongho’s eyes widen, and he swallows hard. Fuck.

You don’t even give him a chance to respond, taking his full cock into your mouth once more, this time, bobbing your head, feeling him fill up your mouth whenever you take him in once more. Jongho’s mind is completely gone, his head is resting against the backing of the couch, eyes rolled back in complete bliss.

He barely comes back to reality when you finally slow down and pull back, thick fluids of his precum and your spit link your mouth to his cock before you lick them away. You give his pretty cock a couple more pumps before you sit up to straddle his thighs, letting Jongho undress you completely (although there wasn’t much to undress anyway), leaving the bathrobe somewhere on the couch.

You inch forward, capturing his lips with yours once more, taking his hands to roam around your bare skin, letting his warm touch linger. Jongho lifts your hips, barely hovering over his cock, and he pushes you down slowly, his eyes locked onto you—eating up your fucked out expression as you’re spilt open by him from below as his cock pushes past your hole. He swallows hard again when his cock is seated warmly in your cunt, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swirling gentle circles over and over to distract himself from cumming too early. Drool seeps past the corner of his lips, his mind dizzy at how you’re so warm and just squeezing him so fucking perfectly. He switches to your other breast, giving it the same treatment, absolutely drunk on the way you’re moaning his name, your hips lifting slightly before he’s seated in you to the hilt.

“So fucking deep babe”, you sigh, keeping your eyes locked onto Jongho, who only pulls you into another deep kiss before he says, “we can go deeper.”

You blink at him, and this time, it’s his turn to stop you from responding when his hands roam to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, letting your cunt swallow his cock even more, before making you bounce on his cock while you hug him.

“That’s it. All the way, baby”, he encourages right into your ears, ignoring the profanities spewing out of your mouth.

The sounds of wet skin only echoes louder in the closed studio, you only pray that no one walks past or tries to rattle the damn door knob. Well, not that you could do anything about it.

“Too much, Jongho-“ you choke, feeling his cock dragging against your soft walls, “I’m gonna-“

“Go on, let it go”, he encourages once more, making sure every time he sinks into you, you fucking feel him pressing against your sensitive spots.

Jongho holds your thighs down, his vision completely focused onto, watching you fall apart on his cock, fluttering so fucking nicely against his length as stars overtake your vision, and cream coating his cock when he pulls out, only to rut back into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty, y/n. Even the canvas can’t capture your glow”, Jongho confesses, feeling himself reach his limit. His eyes are shut, and he buries his head against the crook of your neck. You feel yourself flush at his words.

“I’m gonna cum, y/n. I can’t take it. Feels so good”, Jongho mutters, eyes glazed, looking up at you once more, his grip around you tightening. Your fingers comb back his locks, and with a smile, you reply, “you’ve earned it, baby.”

He falls apart, flooding thick and warm cum into your pussy, his breathing uneven and his mind spinning. Oh god, he can’t think.

As the both of you come down from your high, Jongho still has his head nuzzled against your neck, giving soft kisses from time to time as he softens in you.

“Don’t you need to finish your piece?” You ask, slotting your hands into the sleeves of the bathrobe as Jongho holds it behind your back.

“Yeah, I’m almost done. If it wasn’t for someone who decided to smudge charcoal onto my face”, he teases, and you laugh in reply. “Give me fifteen minutes, then we can have dinner together.”

The mess the both of you made was the least of your concerns, because Jongho scored a distinction on said piece anyway, and evidently, you’ve become his favourite muse, and he turned to be your favourite artist.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #Choi jongho #jongho ateez #ateez jongho #jongho x y/n #jongho smut #jongho #Spotify #jongho x reader

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thef1diary · 9 months

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Neighbour’s Shower | D. Ricciardo

Summary: You are Daniel Ricciardo's neighbour, and one hot summer day where you desperately need to take a shower, it doesn't work.

Warnings: 18+, penetrative (p in v), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), slight breast play

word count: 3.8k

Note: did I post this on wattpad and ao3? Yes. Am I going to post it here too? Also yes.

It had been a few months since you moved to Monaco due to your dream job. You had adjusted to the Monaco lifestyle pretty quickly, and you had never been happier. Due to your new job which paid a lot more than your previous job, you were financially stable. You lived in a one bedroom apartment which is a lot bigger than it seems, but the bigger perk was your neighbour.

You actually met your neighbour when you were on your way to work, but forgot your car keys so you had to go back up the elevator. When you entered the elevator, there was a voice coming from outside asking you to hold it open and seemed to be in a hurry. You, being the polite person, held the door open but you didn't know how much your life would change after that. When the man went to press the button to his floor, he realized that you had already pressed it and quickly figured out that you were floor buddies. That instantly sparked a conversation between you two.

"I'm Daniel" he introduced himself, his accent made it clear that he wasn't monégasque. You introduced yourself too, and he repeated your name to remember yet his accent made it sound better.

Your conversation was cut short when you reached your floor but when you both got out of the elevator and started walking the same way, you realized you lived closer than you thought. "I swear I'm not following you" he joked which made you chuckle. "What makes you think that I'm not following you?" You remarked to which he let out a loud laugh. That instantly made you smile and forget that you were running late to work. It also happened to make him forget that he was rushing as well.

Surprisingly, you lived right across from each other, your two apartments were the only ones in that corner of the hall. The others were quite further. "Let me guess, you chose this apartment because of the balcony?" Daniel asked and you nodded. "Yeah, if I'm living in Monaco, I might as well make the most out of the view"

"Touché"

"I'll see you around Daniel" you spoke before entering your apartment, and you heard a "see ya" from the man.

From that day on, you two met every morning. You had early morning shifts since you preferred to be at home in the evening. One day, when the conversation of jobs came up, you found out that he was a Formula 1 driver. You didn't really follow the sport, but your father did which is how you knew about it but clearly not enough since you couldn't recognize a driver in front of you. Then you understood why he also woke up quite early, to train. You looked forward to the days you would see him and walk to the elevator with him. The conversations with Daniel really made your day. Turns out that you weren't the only one.

On the day you weren't feeling too well, you didn't go to work, but a few minutes after the time you would normally leave, you heard a knock on your door. You opened the door to see Daniel Ricciardo with a worried look on his face, a look you didn't see often. "Are you okay?" He sounded concerned. You didn't open the door fully since you didn't want to pass on the flu. "Just a bit sick. Why?"

"I thought you were a bit late so I thought I'd wait but I realized you're never late and now I'm here" he explained, noticing how weird that sounded since you didn't even have each other's phone numbers yet.

You didn't want to make the moment awkward so you joked "awh, you're worried about me? Missed me too much?" You had to turn away to sneeze but when you looked back at him he nodded. "Yeah, I actually like talking to you in the morning, it kinda makes my day" he admitted. You didn't know how to respond to that.

You noted the time "you're gonna be late for your training, don't make your trainer wait too long or he might make you do extra cardio"

"But you're sick" he stated like that was supposed to change anything. "I took the day off. I'll be fine"

You were still standing with only your head peeking out the door and he noticed that yet didn't say anything. "do me a favour?" He asked, and you raised your eyebrow, asking him to continue.

"Leave your door unlocked but go back to what you were doing. I'll be back in a bit" he didn't wait for your reply and headed back to his own apartment. You stood there for a few moments, trying to understand what he wanted you to do but then you did what he asked. You left the apartment door unlocked and went to your bedroom, making yourself comfortable under the covers. You two knew each other for a few weeks and based on Daniel's aura, you knew you could trust him.

You waited for a bit. Listening to the silence, waiting for the door to open. You heard it open and close after twenty minutes, then you heard footsteps and his voice. "I really hope you're not sleeping"

Your apartment had the same layout as his so he could easily figure out where which room was. He knocked on your bedroom door and once he heard you say "come in", he opened it. There he was, holding a tray in his hands. His smile was back and you definitely preferred that smile than the expression you were first met with when you opened the door.

"What's that?" You asked about the tray in his hands since you couldn't see what was on it. "Just some things to help you feel better" He had brought some homemade soup, cough drops, painkillers, and juice.

That day he stayed with you for a few hours, ensuring that you were feeling better. You usually don't like any company when you're sick, watching some shows and rest do the job but spending time with him was definitely something you didn't know you needed that day.

Now, a few weeks later, it was summertime and it was excessively hot. This week wasn't a good week unfortunately. Your car had broken down so you were forced to either take a cab or walk to work. Though you knew if you asked Daniel to drop you, he would've in an instant but he wasn't in Monaco since he had to leave for a race. You were convinced that your week was going bad because he wasn't there to cheer you up. You didn't see his smile when you first leave your apartment nor could you spend time hanging out at each other's place for a movie night.

After that day he took care of you, you exchanged numbers and became better friends. Although you texted each other a lot, it didn't feel the same. Before he left Monaco, he had given you an extra key to his apartment because he told you that some people were meant to come over for furniture deliveries. You texted him once it was over and sent him a few photos of you "living" in his apartment. You pretended to cook in his kitchen and sleep in his bedroom in those pictures but he didn't mind. He actually responded with "How come you don't do that when I'm over?"

Daniel didn't tell you when he'd be back. You had quite a long day at work and you couldn't even find a cab to go home, so you decided to walk since it was only ten minutes. Those ten minutes felt so much longer than it was. By the time you made it to the elevator, you were completely soaked with sweat. You went straight to your home and took off your clothes, making a beeline for your shower.

You turned it on to a cooler setting and held your arm under the water to feel the temperature but it was still so warm. You turned it all the way cold, but the temperature didn't change. It was way too hot for you to take a warmer shower, especially since you wanted to cool down. Unfortunately, you had already took off your clothes. You didn't want to wear those sweaty clothes again but you didn't want to ruin a clean pair of clothes either. You wrapped a towel around you and you texted your neighbour, wanting to ask him if you could use his shower but you saw an unread text message from him. He sent a message mentioning that he reached.

You groaned, it would make it so much more awkward now that he was home. You wanted to ask him if you could use his shower especially since he wasn't home. But now that he was, he would see you in a towel. A part of you didn't want to go but the other part was eager to knock on his door. These past few days, or if we're being honest, since the moment you met him, you were attracted to him. There was no doubt that he's handsome but the unholy thoughts you had about him made you feel guilty of being his friend.

There might've been times where you pleased yourself with him in mind, thinking about what he would do to you. You imagined that Daniel was really good with his tongue because of the amount of times you saw it dart out to lick his lips. You knew he'd be good with his fingers because they were quite long, knowing that he'd hit the right spots. You wondered if he was vocal, perhaps dominant and challenging you to stay quiet which he thrusted into you.

You snapped out of your daze, realizing that you were still hot but now in a different way. You were still sitting in your towel, but the desperation of washing off the sweat was overriding your rational thoughts. That's why you were standing outside Daniel's apartment door, knocking. It took him a while to open the door and you realized why. His hair was drenched and had only a towel wrapped around his waist. He called your name "what's wrong?" He asked as he pulled you in his home by your hand, not wanting anyone else to see you due to your attire.

"My shower's cold setting isn't working and it's too hot to take a warm shower" you stated, keeping your composure as you only looked at him in the eye. He urged you to continue "so I figured I'd ask you if I could use your shower?" You're self control was tested as you watched his eyes break eye contact with you and gaze down your body.

"It's quite hot today isn't it?" He asked, his gazed focused on the part of your cleavage that wasn't covered by your towel. "Yeah it is. So can I?" You asked again and he looked up at your face.

"Normally, I wouldn't mind" Daniel started as he stepped a bit closer to you, making you lean against the door. "But?" You asked.

"But, as you can see-" he paused and gestured to himself which made you finally look at him properly. His skin was glistening, some soap suds still on his shoulders. You realized your mistake. "-I wasn't done taking a shower" he completed.

You opened your mouth to speak but he interrupted you. "I wouldn't mind if you joined me" he suggested. You saw his eyes darken and that damn tongue you dreamed about darted out to lick his lips. Your eyes widened in surprise since you never thought he'd suggest something you only thought about. Your reaction made Daniel think he made a mistake by crossing the boundaries. He was stepping away and about to apologize but you reached out and pulled him in by his neck. As soon as your lips touched, he instantly held your waist, pulling the rest of your body against his.

Your towels were the only cloth blocking you from skin to skin contact but you roamed your hands down his bare chest and back. You nails made lines down his back and he moaned into your mouth, telling you that he liked it. Once you were out of breath and pulled away, he started kissing down your neck, his lips dangerously close to your breasts.

His hands roamed on your legs, inching up the back of your thighs. Daniel's hands went under your towel and gripped your ass making you let out a groan. He brought his face closer to yours but kept his eyes on your towel "let's get rid of this" he easily unwrapped the towel from around you, letting it drop to the floor. He took a look at your bare body, closed his eyes and groaned while biting his bottom lip. "Oh, you're so perfect" he complimented you.

You didn't want to be the only one completely naked so you toyed with the hem of his towel at his waist to hint at what you want. You decided to tease him a bit and not take it off yet, despite how much you wanted to. Your hand wandered down, tracing his abs and v line. Then, you delicately placed your hand around his cock through the towel, feeling how hard it was. You slowly moved your hand up and down, the friction from the towel making him groan. You loved how vocal he was despite how little you were touching him.

While your hand was on his cock, his hands were cupping your breasts. To tease you back, he circled around your nipple, watching it harden but not touching it. Then his thumb and first finger pinched your nipple, slightly tugging it to see your reaction. You felt euphoric, no one had actually paid attention to your breasts before as much as he did, and god you loved it.

You two still had to shower but before you could say anything, Daniel had seemed to read you mind because he picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his dick rub against the one place you really want it. You were so lost in the pleasure that you didn't realize you were already in the bathroom, nor did you realize you were moving your hips to create more friction.

"So impatient huh?" He teased. Daniel placed you on the countertop beside the sink and leaned in to kiss you again. You watched him turn on the shower and then faced you before taking off his towel. You looked at him, your gaze going lower and lower until you saw what you wanted to see. His cock was hard, precum leaking out but what also caught your eye were his tattoos on his thigh. You saw parts of it before when he wore shorts belonging to his merch but you never saw where it started. It was higher up on his thigh and you almost drooled at the sight.

He walked in the shower which was big enough for two people and looked at you before gesturing you to join him. You instantly got off the countertop and made your way towards him, kissing him passionately underneath the shower head. His kisses were so addicting, and you would happily get drunk on them. Roaming your hand further down, you reached his cock but this time there wasn't a towel to stop you from properly feeling him. You ran your hand up and down his length, sliding your thumb across the tip.

You pecked his lips once more before going down on your knees. You looked up at him and he adored the sight of you on your knees. Placing your hands on the back of his thighs, you placed a kiss on the top of his tattoo, tracing the rest of it with your tongue. It was quite close to his dick but not close enough, he wanted your mouth on him.

"Baby please" he whispered, feeling vulnerable and you were enjoying every moment of it. You placed a kiss on his tip, sucking slightly then releasing it and blowing on it. "Keep teasing me and you'll pay for it" he warned. As much as you wanted to test his limits, you were so, so desperate to taste him. You licked his cock from the base up and swirled your tongue around his tip then finally taking him in your mouth. You tried to take as much as you could without choking and massaged the rest with your hand.

You felt his hand grip your hair slightly tugging on it which made you release a moan around his cock. "Fucking hell, you look so pretty on your knees for me" he commented. While sucking on his cock, you looked up at him and immediately made eye contact with him.

You went on for a few more moments but felt Daniel tugging on your hair and pulled you up by holding the back of your neck. He wasn't agressive, in fact it was just the right amount of force to make you need him more. He wiped the drool off your face with his thumb "your mouth is fucking perfect but I need to taste you"

You saw the man go down on his knees and it was such a hot sight to see. He took your right leg and placed it on his shoulder. It brought your core extremely close to his mouth and he immediately flattened his tongue to lick your folds. Collecting the wetness, he moaned at your taste making you cry out due to the pleasure from both his tongue and the vibrations. You tugged on his wet curls on his head, pushing him even closer to you. He used the tip of his tongue to tease your clit, then went down to slip inside you. He followed that movement a few more times before teasing his fingers around your entrance. "Daniel please"

He moved his mouth away from you, you were almost whining at the loss "please what?" He asked as he slid a finger in then back out. "Use your words darling"

"I need you. Your tongue, your cock. Just fuck me please" You managed to speak up and he was pleased with the answer because he attached his mouth to your core again but going brutally fast. He slid in two fingers with ease, and quickly added another. He wanted to make you cum around his fingers and mouth. And that's exactly what you did. You didn't even have time to give him a warning but your moans that were getting louder was his sign that you were close. You closed your eyes and placed a hand on the shower wall and another on his shoulder to brace yourself.

He stood up, still holding on to you and kissed you deeply, making you taste yourself. "Mhm taste that? That's all you baby. You taste amazing and if it were up to me, I'd make you cum on my tongue until you can't anymore" he whispered dirty words in your ear and you really wanted him to do what he says. But right now, you wanted his cock more than anything.

You rolled your eyes in pleasure at that thought "I need you, so bad" you muttered against his lips and he was more than glad to fulfill your needs.

He picked you up and you instantly wrapped your legs around his waist. Holding you up against the wall, he pushed his cock inside you and you would've been embarrassed at how easily it slid in but you were overcome with pleasure. Daniel watched as your pussy was soaking and every time he thrusted, the wet sounds were heard over the sound of the shower. You arched your back closer to him and he took your nipple in his mouth. Slightly grazing his teeth across your sensitive peaks, it made your head fall against the wall in pleasure.

Already orgasmed once, you quickly reached that point again and since you teased him, he told you that he wasn't going to last long either. He sucked the skin on your breasts, making purple marks that would last a while, reminding you of this exact moment. When he pulled away, you kissed alongside his neck but was afraid to make any marks until he spoke. "Don't be shy. I know you want to" that urged you to paint his tanned skin with purple marks.

Daniel trailed a hand down, putting pleasurable pressure on your clit which was the breaking point for you. You orgasmed on his cock, and feeling your pussy pulsing, he reached his peak as well.

He still held you up, looking at you with a smile on his face and you were sure that your smile was just as big. "That was-" "fucking amazing" you cut him off and he nodded, agreeing with you.

He slid out of you, placing you on the ground and you realized that your knees were weak. He poured the shampoo in his hands and started massaging your head. Following his ministrations, you took some shampoo in your hands and softly scrubbed through his curls. Washing it away, you repeated the process with conditioner then shower gel. You were using his products, which made you smell like him.

He took the shower gel in his hands, and emulsified it before placing his hands on your body. Starting off with your shoulders, then your back. Your back was against him as he brought his hands over your breasts, paying special attention to them once again. Then he did your legs but made sure to rinse his hands before getting to the apex of your thighs. You were incredibly sensitive there so you shivered at his touch. "You still want more?" You asked him, facing the man.

"Now that I got a taste of you, I need more" he replied. "You did make me a promise" you mentioned, referring to the words he said earlier about making you cum multiple times on his tongue. "I did and I will fulfill it" he winked before getting out of the shower and drying himself off while you rinsed your body. He was holding another towel for you and dried you off as well. During that, he had another question "has anyone given you a nipple orgasm?" Daniel asked which made you blush feverishly. You shook your head "no, I don't think that's possible"

Daniel's eyes sparkled, and you knew what he was thinking. "There's always a first for everything" he wrapped the towel around you and cupped your breasts over the towel "they definitely deserve the attention" he rested his head in the crook of your neck and you look at your reflections in the mirror.

#daniel ricciardo #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1blr #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo fic #thef1diary fic #smut

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charmercharm3r · 1 year

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whatshisname

BC, SCB

Masterlist

wc: 3.7k

Requested

Synopsis: A night out leads you to make some uncharacteristic choices that somehow end with you into their bed.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, binchanXreader, porn w no plot, threesome, eiffel-towering lol, protected sex, implied chanXchangbin, mentions of alcohol consumption, good cop\bad cop situ lol, cum play, lil bit of ass slapping, oral (m&f), cum eating, slight dumbification

If you were to tell any of your friends about how you ended up in the bed of the two hottest guys you’d ever seen, they’d laugh in your face and call you a liar. Hell, you can’t even believe it. Things like this don’t happen to you, let alone with two men. You can’t even recall where it all happened, one second you were talking to one of them and introduced you to his buddy, the next you were in their car on the way back to their place.

It was so out of character for you to even consider talking to them in the first place. The one with dimples approached you first, Chris? Chan? You don’t really remember, just that he had the sweetest smile and voice like honey. He was the one that drove, his right hand slowly creeping up your thigh the entire ride. His friend, a name similar but you could only recall the other calling him Bin, had a kick ass playlist, you had to admit, sultry songs that were equally energizing and made you even more excited for what was to come. Or better yet– who.

You’d decided to call the first man Chris, it feels like a common enough name you couldn’t be wrong. As soon as Chris had put the car in park, the shorter man was already outside your door and opening it, holding a hand out for you to take. You can’t even remember what button they’d pushed to reach their floor, the elevator ride up was filled with tentative touches, one behind you and one in front, distracting you with their hands on your hips and lips peppering light kisses to either side of your neck. The funniest part, you weren’t even drunk. Tipsy, sure, but with enough consciousness to know that you wanted this more than anything.

The lights back at the bar were too dim to have noticed just how muscular they both were. The reflective metal of the elevator gave you optimal view of Chris’ wide shoulders and Bin’s swole arms wrapped around your torso. That sight alone made your mouth water, and next thing you knew, you were being led through a hallway much nicer than you’d expected and into what you assumed was their apartment, body being tossed onto a bed and smothered in kisses.

Honestly, it was a lot more romantic than you were expecting. Not that they weren’t eager to get you naked, but they were taking their time. You couldn’t tell who was kissing you now, just that their lips were incredibly gentle and unrushed. He wasn’t on top of you but instead on his knees next to your side and cupping your cheeks in his hands while you felt the bed dip under the weight of the other.

“Can I take these off?” One of them asked, playing with the hem of your skirt. You tried to respond, but could only moan into the mouth of the man kissing you. “Give her a chance to answer, Changbin. We have all night.” Chris was the one messing with your clothes, playfully moving them around to make your attention scatter.

Changbin was his full name? You didn’t have time to question nor answer before he was speaking for you, “but I like kissing her, such nice lips. She wants them off, don’t you, baby?”

What had come over you? Nodding mindlessly as you let him hike your blouse over your head and Chris tug the skirt down to leave you in nothing but undergarments. Maybe it was the compliments Changbin whispered in your ear, or perhaps how tender Chris was caressing every inch of your exposed skin, but you didn’t feel the need to think with them, not a care in the world other than wanting to please them.

Changbin was on you in the next second and was laying kind, wet smooches up and down your neck, it made you shiver and Chris chuckle at the gooseflesh rising along your skin. “Sensitive, aren’t you?” the dimpled one smiled up at you from your lower half, teething at the elastic of your panties. Another rapid, mindless nod, he grinded his hips into the bed as your hips kicked up, arousal probably soaking the fabric.

“What about these?” Changbin snapped the strap of your bra, “these off next?” You were growing impatient, moving to take it off without answering him and earning an amused laugh from both.

“Mind if I?” Chris was spreading your legs and climbing to lay between them on his stomach, clearly grinding his crotch into the mattress. You went to take off the panties as well, but his large hands stopped you, “keep them on for now.” Following his instructions, you watched Chris get comfortable and continue to tease himself through the fabric of his jeans. He took in a deep inhale with his nose pressed to the gusset of your underwear before exhaling just as large with a strangled groan, “fuck. So sweet.”

He took a hard lick at you through the panties, you shivered even more as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. His fat tongue sent warmth shooting up your spine, comforting and blissful at the same time. So much so that your eyes rolled back and you relaxed into the sheets. But before you could completely unwind, Changbin’s lips suctioned to your breast, biting the skin around your nipple before nibbling at the nub softly. The pricks of pain from his teeth was soothed over when the warm muscle of his tongue would lick over it.

The combination of it all was unbearably wonderful, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Your hands moved on their own, burying one into Changbin’s hair and the other into Chris’ to push him deeper into your cunt. You suppose you were moving too much for Changbin’s liking, his big arms slithered around your rib cage to hold your tighter to his face, while Chris moved with your writhing hips. He’d hooked his arms under your thighs and began to moan into your core, vibrations making you helplessly fall further victim to the feeling. Quickly you were becoming undone, opening your eyes for a split second to see the purple bruises littering your chest and breasts as Changbin played with your nipples and Chris already looking up at you through his lashes, suffocating himself in your pussy.

Just as you made eye contact with Chris, he showed off his skills by flattening his tongue against your bundle of nerves and swiping back and forth, hard. The look on his face was almost the same as yours, enjoying himself as though he was the one getting head. Then, he suckled on your clit through your saliva and arousal soaked underwear, making your back arch. The sudden urge to feel something on your lips had you tugging Changbin by the back of his hair from your chest, immediately locking your lips together for a messy, spit covered kiss. His doll-like lips fit perfectly against yours, that coupled with Chris’s plump ones cupping your clit and sucking you in like a vacuum made you see stars, already coming. You moaned into Changbin, hardly muffled and echoing throughout the room.

The only reason Chris had pulled away was because you tapped his shoulder, looking up at you with the lower half of his face covered in slick and a goofy smile on his lips. As you let your body sink into the bed, Chris moved to sit on his knees while Changbin continued to kiss wherever he could, wherever he wanted.

You let your eyes close again and succumb to the warmth that washed over you in post-orgasm glow, though the sound of clothes hitting the floor and belts being undone had you wanting to press your legs together all over again.

“Not tired, are you baby?” Changbin said softly into your ear, brushing your hair from your face.

“Of course she isn’t. She can’t be when we’re the ones who have been doing all the work, right pretty girl?” Chris’ voice was deeper now, teetering on the edge of intimidating as you peaked an eye open to see him now towering over you, shirt discarded and the belt and button of his pants undone. Though, his cock, still covered by his boxers, was hanging over the zipper, heavy and thick through the shadowed outline and so mouthwatering.

Your lack of a response made Changbin grip you by the cheeks, puckering your lips, “better answer him. He doesn’t like silence.”

The nod you gave clearly did not’ suffice, as his handle on your face was accompanied by a harsh tug to your hair, “yes! Not tired.”

Chris leaned over to be less than a centimeter from your face, “good girl.” He pecked your puckered lips and stepped off the bed, ridding the rest of his clothes.

Dazed, you watched as he undressed and Changbin followed. If you thought that they were handsome while clothed, in their nakedness the two men were straight up menacing. Changbin stood a bit on the meatier side, in more places than one as his build looked to be thicker with muscle. Though, that didn’t mean Chris wasn’t built, by no means was he skinny if his incredibly defined abs were anything to go by, traps of his shoulders looking nice enough to nibble on. As you ogled them from your spread out position on the bed, they gave each other a knowing glance, then turned their attention back to you.

“Who d’ya want to stretch you out first, pretty?” Chris asked, crossing his arms over his chest. You took your time to look both of them up and down, eyes lingering on Changbin’s thick thighs and girthy cock hanging massive. “Go on then,” the dimpled man patted his friend on the back, nudging him towards you.

As Changbin climbed up the bed to make his way towards you, Chris mumbled, “I do all the work and still get picked last. You’re gonna make it up to me, pretty.”

“Promise,” you said back to him before Changbin covered your entire view.

Changbin manhandled your panties off, but not without bringing them to his nose to sniff, “you’re right, Channie hyung. She is sweet,” and he tossed them to the side.

“I thought your name was Chris,” you looked over Changbin’s shoulder at the now established older of the two. He was amused, corner of his lip curling as his hand slowly stroked his long dick.

“It is. But we’ll see if you remember your own name by the end of the night.”

“Hey now, it’s my turn,” the younger tipped your chin gently back in his direction. You leaned up to kiss him, which was appreciated by him with an adorning hum. Hands guided one leg around his torso as Changbin readjusted to straddle your other. “Focus on me,” he said against your lips, and it was hard not to when he held you so nicely.

Chris– Chan?– tossed him a condom, which Changbin somehow skillfully opened and wrapped around his dick with ease and without pulling too far away from you. He seemed to like the closeness and the feeling of skin on skin, which only made you want to feel him more.

Your leg around his waist pulled him in, making him topple over you. Changbin giggled and kissed you once more before slicking his fingers through your folds, using the wetness to spread around his cock. He was even bigger when so close to your entrance, it was slightly nerve racking.

“Relax, baby. I’ll take good care of you,” he said, tip prodding at your slit.

“Get on with it,” Chris called from the side of the bed. Your spine shivered at the domineering tone of his voice.

“What happened to having all night?” You called back, keeping your eyes on the man above you.

“I wouldn’t get smart before I’ve had my turn with you, pretty.”

Changbin slowly pressed his cock in, not breaking the surface just yet. “I’d listen to him if I were you. Because I have been. Appreciate the kindness while the nice one is still on top of you.”

He pushed in further, slowly sliding into your cunt as your arousal slicked your walls even more. Changbin hiked your leg higher to hold under his arm, pressed tight to his ribs as he bottomed out with little to no effort. His free hand not holding up his weight gripped onto your love handles, squeezing as he got used to the rhythmic pulsating of your walls. It took everything within him not to move at the pace he wanted from the getgo, but the little resolve Changbin had crumbled when you rutted your hips up into him, making him slide that much deeper. “More,” you whined, heel digging into his back in hopes it’d make him move.

Changbin caved at your plea and pulled out just to shallowly thrust back into you. The sheer size of him was already making your head spin, and he’d barely done anything. Your head dug back into the pillows, nails clawing at his forearms as his speed picked up and the slapping of skin filled the room. Just as you were building another high, the bed beside you dipped and the heat of another body warmed you. Chris kneeled above your head, cock in hand and leaking with precum. He didn’t need to say anything as he rolled a condom onto himself, your mouth was dropping and tongue hanging out to take him as well.

Changbin sat back and moved your leg higher to drape over his shoulder as Chris climbed to sit on your chest. He let go of his dick to free handedly aim for your mouth, and immediately sighed when your warmth engulfed him. Unlike Changbin’s soft, steady rhythm, Chris was rough, almost animalistic as soon as you’d taken him. He didn’t let you get used to the feeling of him on your tongue and forced himself deeper into your throat, gripping the headboard and using your mouth like his personal fleshlight.

You felt dizzy from lack of oxygen, lack of feeling anything except the pleasure building in your gut, lack of thought from an empty brain. All your morals and values left you as soon as you agreed to go home with them, and they weren’t coming back anytime soon. The amount of stimulation to every part of your body was overwhelming, unable to stop yourself from whimpering as Changbin’s hips became unrelenting in their stride, hitting your sweet spot every time and Chris’s uncaring nature that was painfully arousing.

The effort it took to even mumble the words, “gonna cum,” took more energy than you had to spare. You were only able to catch your breath because Chris finally pulled out to let you gain back some oxygen. Even then, he stole it away as he gripped your jaw open, “hold it,” he commanded before gathering saliva in his mouth to spit into yours. The icky feeling made you shudder, feeling like you should be grossed out, perhaps even turned off, but you were nowhere near it.

Chris turned his head slightly to look back at Changbin, “getting along back there?” The way he spoke about you like you weren’t there made your gut twist even more. Changbin’s thumb swiped at your clit unexpectedly and you clenched around him, a strained groan leaving him, “never fucking better. Wait till you feel how tight she is, hyung. God, I never wanna pull out.”

“Better wrap it up soon, Bin. Wanna cum in that pretty cunt but her mouth is real close to doing me in.”

Chris dipped into your mouth again just as Changbin’s thrusts turned shallow again, messy as he got closer to his high. His thumb rubbing circles into your bundle of nerves made your muscles tense up, trying your best to follow orders. But in your body clenching, so did your walls and apparently convulsing strong enough to milk Changbin to his inevitable orgasm, finishing in a blaze of glory into the condom without stopping his rutting. Quick, staccato’d claps of his skin on yours finished with a loud groan, shoving him deeply into you two more times before pulling out completely.

The burning in your gut diminished as the emptiness overtook you, feeling cold without Changbin’s heat. Chris pulled from your mouth just after, climbing off your chest immediately. He looked back at the younger, whose face was entirely too lax compared to you and Chris, you were jealous. The high forced to fizzle out made your body ache and twitch as neither of them touched you, just watching.

Tears threatened to fall as Chris smiled down at you fondly, “didn’t cum, did you?” He asked as if he couldn’t already tell. You shook your head, no. Chris just tilted his head and raised his eyebrows as you recalled previous instructions.

“N– no,” you choked back a sob as a grin broke across his face.

Chris climbed between your legs and massaged your thighs, “good girl.” The praise made you whimper again. “My turn, pretty.”

As quickly as his soft touch came, it went, Chris suddenly flipping you onto your belly and arching your ass into the air. His big hands spread your cheeks wide and tongue licked another fat stripe up your center, making you shiver in his hold. “Please,” you whined, reaching back to take his hand in yours.

“Look at you, asking so nicely,” Chris said, kneeling tall against your backside and swiping the head of his condom clad cock through your folds. Your wetness resounded through the room, turning to the side to see Changbin at your side and dick at full mass again. He peered down at you, cupping your cheek and sitting on his knees in front of you, pushing your hair from your sweaty face.

Before you could ask for a kiss– knowing Changbin would give it you– Chris was pushing his cock into you, not waiting for you to adjust to the large size difference. While Changbin was thick, Chris hung long, prodding at your cervix with no effort. He gripped at the fatty flesh of your ass in his palms, using it to guide you back and forth moderately paced.

You bit your lip to conceal more moans, watching as Changbin carefully took off the full condom and held it upright to keep from spilling. His hard cock was covered with his own cum, dripping down his balls. He caught you watching too intensely, “I think she’s got a thing for cum, hyung.” Changbin put you on blast for Chris, the neighbors, or anyone out on the street to hear that you wished he’d cum in your mouth. “Want a taste?”

Eyes big and round, you nodded hesitantly.

Chris continued to work himself up slowly, enjoying the show in front of him. He smirked to himself as Changbin conscientiously leaned back on his hunches and tipped the condom over, letting a bit of his cum spill onto his already soiled dick. Your mouth salivated as you leaned forward to catch the bit that dripped down the underside, tip of your tongue licking it up. Changbin watched you in awe, jaw dropped. In awe, Changbin kept his eyes on you as he spoke to the older, “treat her nicely, hyung. Look at what a good girl she is. She just wants to please us, don’t you, baby?”

Tongue sticking out as you kitten licked him, you nodded and hummed in affirmation.

“Is that right? What do you think, pretty? Do you deserve it?”

You wanted to speak, you truly did, but the infatuation with Changbin’s fat cock and his warm cum was rendering you speechless, only humming again. Chris’ hand came up just to send a harsh slap against your ass, jolting you forward. “Yes! I deserve it!”

“There ya go,” Chris sped up, his hold on your skin growing harsher as his nails dug into it to keep from slipping, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you liked the bit of pain, stomach already growing warm as the knot began to tighten.

Salty taste of Changbin on your tongue, a few loud slaps against your ass cheeks every few thrusts, and Chris mercilessly using your cunt like a toy, you were teetering on the brink in no time once again, already overstimulated from everything that came before. You were still in awe of how quickly Chris switched up on you, one second stopping at nothing to make you cum and the next, not letting you so much as think about the euphoria. Changbin’s constant attention was grounding and so wonderful, you felt tag teamed, like they meant to break you. Lucky for them, they did. Not a thought in your head other than to cum, you were begging for it with Changbin’s cock stuffing your mouth, barely even sucking because nothing could’ve taken your focus away from the knot getting closer to snapping.

Chris could feel you convulsing to no end and in time with his thrusts, feeling as though he wasn’t even pulling out. His head fell back as he pounded into you, Changbin getting off on your warm mouth and his friend and you lost in the pleasure.

He couldn’t believe it as he found himself murmuring, “ah, shit– fuck– gonna cum. Go ahead, pretty. Lemme feel you.”

Under his command, you cried out loudly and let yourself succumb to the white bliss. You don’t know how long you came, just that it went on for so long that you might’ve passed out if the two men weren’t holding you up.

When Chris pulled out, they worked together to lay you on your back, mouth covered in cum and body drenched in sweat. To say you were tired would’ve been an understatement. Exhausted but so, so satisfied. You laughed softly to yourself and smiled at the ceiling.

“Tired, baby?” Changbin kneeled beside the bed, pushing your matted hair from your face and grinning at you sweetly.

Behind him, Chris tied off the condom and tossed it in the trash, stretching his arms across his chest and smirking deviously. “Better not be. Wouldn’t be fair if we only got to cum once, would it?”

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatterer @aliferousminhoinho @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydrawss @naturuless @djeniryuuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @angelica-erin-caelius @dazzlingligth @lvrminn @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @mercurezed @zerefdragn33l @crissicat13 @binnies-donuts @soldierstantgirl-blog @bakedlilgoonieie @levanterlilyy

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stories-and-chaos · 3 months

Text

Shrike: New Neighbor

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[Word count 1210 Cw: blood, foul language]

————————

Even while recovering, Alastor had to be dramatic. So when he dropped you both into the group in front of the rebuilt hotel, his joining the song and grand gestures did not surprise you. What did was Charlie suddenly hugging him and Alastor allowing her.

The princess was stronger than she knew. Alastor was more stubborn than anyone but you realized. So even though his theatrics and her squeeze tore some stitches, he refused to show it. The benefit of entirely red clothing was that a bit of blood wasn’t noticeable.

As soon as you could manage, you insisted the pair of you look over your new suite. Walking to the top floor would have been a struggle and you weren’t up to flying again yet. Fortunately the new building had elevators installed.

Alastor had recreated his broadcast studio on a corner penthouse level and naturally had claimed the closest rooms for you both. He hadn’t recreated the bayou yet, but there were more pressing concerns. Namely redoing his stitches.

Once in the room you ordered, “Sit down Alastor.” You didn’t let him argue as you removed his jacket and shirt. The bandages wrapped around his torso had absorbed most of the blood but now they definitely needed replacing. “Zut alors, you just had to overdo it out there.”

You brought out both a last aid kit and your sewing kit. As you gathered up towels, warm water and disinfectant, you continued to vent. “I know you like to cultivate an air of invulnerability, cher, but that was too much.” Returning to his side you started unwinding the bandages. “Granted you didn’t expect Charlie to hug you like that, but all that flailing about did not help.”

His hand shot out and grabbed your wrist. “That’s enough,” he growled hoarsely. His antlers were starting to grow in anger but he didn’t put any pressure on your wrist.

“No Alastor, it’s not,” you replied firmly. You didn’t pull your hand away but you did turn his head to face you. You locked eyes with your husband, staring straight into the radio dials. “If you get hurt, I’m the one that patches you up. If you get hurt doing something stupid, I’m still the one patching you up, but I’m allowed to be angry about it.”

He huffed and released your wrist. You continued unwrapping and cleaning that gash across his chest. “I don’t want to be stitching you back up constantly because you’re pretending to be invincible.” You might have said more but a voice at the door interrupted.

“Lover’s quarrel? You really should close the door if you’re going to do that.”

“Fuck!” you screeched, reflexively launching a stiletto at the voice.

“Whoa!” The figure blinked away in a burst of sparks, popping back into existence next to you. The blade thudded into the hallway.

“Careful there!” Lucifer admonished. “We just built these floors.”

You hissed at the fallen angel. “I wouldn’t have to be careful if someone wasn’t eavesdropping.”

He just smiled as you returned to focusing on Alastor. “Someone wouldn’t be eavesdropping if someone else had closed their door properly.” He leaned down to look at the wound you were starting to stitch together again. “Oof, that from when Adam swung at you? You took quite a hit there buddy.”

Alastor glared at him furiously. “GET. OUT,” he snarled, his ever present smile straining in his anger.

As much as you agreed with him, what Lucifer said made you start. “How did you know Adam hit him? The only ones that saw the fight were the exorcists and me.” Some of your flock might have seen it, but they were rather occupied.

“I was watching the whole time,” he replied blithely. With a snap, he produced an ornate set of opera glasses on an elegant handle. “Had to keep an eye on my little girl in case she needed help.”

“You were just watching?!” You and Alastor yelled together. If he had shown up before the angels arrived, he could have handled everything.

“Yup! Charlie didn’t ask me to join the fight, so I wanted to give her the chance to take care of it.” He paused. “I do feel bad about the snake guy, though. Oh, and that you two got banged up by that douchebag.”

You hissed again, feeling your feathers turn metallic. Still, you turned back to the curved needle in your hand. Alastor’s claws dug into the chair; you couldn’t be sure of it was from anger or the feeling of needle and thread sliding through his skin. Probably both.

“GET OUT,” he repeated, now looking like he’d enjoy tearing Lucifer’s throat out if he wasn’t stuck in place.

“And leave my new neighbors in their time of need?” He shook his head mockingly. “Charlie would never let me hear the end of it.”

You did your best to focus and finish quickly. “Got it back together, cher.” His grip on the chair didn’t ease up. He really is a terrible patient, you thought as you placed a gauze pad on the gash. You reached for a roll of bandages, only to find Lucifer holding it out to you.

Annoyed, you grabbed it with a quiet “merci.” Winding the bandage around Alastor to keep the pad in place, you could feel Lucifer’s gaze on your back. Your husband was getting more and more irritated as the king of Hell kept watching you.

Then, as you finished securing the bandage: “You’re gonna need a splint on that wing.” You blinked in confusion. Alastor was similarly surprised at Lucifer’s statement.

“Never had a wing injury before?” he prodded. You shook your head. “You’re one lucky gal.” He clapped his hands and a small pile of supplies appeared. “It’s got to be stabilized. And no attempts to fly until it’s fully healed if you want it back to normal.” He gestured for Alastor to get up, not caring at all that he was ordering the Radio Demon around. Of course he didn’t, he ruled over all of Hell. He outranked every Sinner, Overlord or not.

With permission, he examined your wing. “Alright deerboy, I’ll show you what to do so you can take care of your missus.” That did seem to calm Alastor down a bit and he begrudgingly let Lucifer demonstrate. Shortly, your wing was braced by thin rods and bandages. “Remember, no flying at all.”

You grumbled, only for Alastor to lean down (slowly, taking his wound into account) and say with exaggerated sweetness, “I’ll be patching you up, cher. And if I have to resplint your wing because you did something stupid, then I’m allowed to be angry, yes?”

Dammit, you thought to yourself. Aloud you said, “Fair enough,” with equal sarcastic sweetness.

Satisfied, Lucifer grabbed his apple topped cane with a twirl. “I’m making pancakes if you two want any.” He sauntered out, humming contentedly.

You sighed gustily. “Let’s get you a new shirt, darling.” As you helped Alastor button up the bright red shirt, he realized something.

“He said ‘new neighbors,’” he stated, the static disappearing from his voice. You both stopped dead, processing what that meant. Meeting each other’s eyes, there was only one thing to say, in unison again.

“Ffffuck!”

———————

Taglist: @whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

#hazbin hotel #hazbin fanfic #hazbin alastor #hazbin lucifer #asexual alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #asexual reader #asexual #cw blood #cw injury #cw stitches #acespec #ace representation

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uluvjay · 10 months

Note

List 2 33 and 26 with Luke Hughes

Luke Hughes x Fem! Reader

I imagined this as an older Luke who's already been in the league for a while

warnings?; SMUT, p in v, unprotected sex(wrap it up), light fingering, possessive Luke, drinking, club scene, weird guy, pet names, kissing, slight choking kink, semi-public sex?, Luke is a little bossy, i cant think of anymore.

I hope you enjoy sorry for any errors!

"You're not going out dressed like that" Luke laughed as I made my way into his living room clad in a short black dress ready for a night out with our shared friend group.

"And why not?" I questioned back with a bit of attitude

"Because that dress is way too short" he exclaimed, crossing his arms across his chest

"You're not my dad Luke and i'll wear whatever I want" I sighed before continuing "Now come on, our uber is almost here" giving him no time to argue as you headed out the front door.

There wasn't any conversation held in the Uber ride to the club and once the two of us made it into the club we hardly spoke once he went off with the boys and me with the fellow wags.

"what's up with you and Luke?" Dawson's girlfriend asked

"He tried telling me i couldn't wear this out and it made me made mad and then i made him mad so we're kinda just annoyed with each other" I explained

the girls laughed before another wag spoke up, "Sounds like your gonna have a fun time once you get home" she winked causing me to blush

"whatever you say, i'm going to get a refill" I giggled as I stood up from the booth and made my way to the bar

As i was waiting for a bartender's attention i felt a body move next to mine that held a strong scent of booze and overpowering cologne. I looked up and saw a man that seemed a lot older than me looking down with a creepy smile.

"Hi, I'm Shawn" he greeted

"Y/N" i replied with a tight lipped smile

"What's a pretty young thing like you doing here all alone?" he questioned

"Oh i'm not here alone, I'm with my-" I started before i felt arms wrapping around my waist and a familiar voice cutting me off.

"With her boyfriend"

I looked up and seen Luke looking at the guy with an annoyed expression on his face

"Whoa calm down buddy, couldn't tell she had a boyfriend by the way she was dressed" he laughed and i could feel Luke's grip tighten on me.

I turned around in his arms and did my best to calm him down before he swung on the guy, "Luke he's not worth it it, come one let's just go back to the group"

But as i tried pushing him he stopped me, "No we're going home, I'll have Jack get your bag from the girls" he grumbled and pulled me towards the front doors of the club.

I tried my best to keep up with the fast strides of his long legs but I only kept tripping as he pulled me along, “Luke! Slow down your going to fast” I called

What I didn’t expect was for him to come to a dead stop and cause me to slam into his back, before I got the chance to complain he turned around and pinned me to a wall.

“I told you not to wear this fucking dress but you didn’t listen and look what happened. So now I’m going to take your ass home and fuck you until you can learn how to listen” he spat

He grabbed my wrist and resumed pulling me outside the club. He didn’t say anything as we waited for our Uber to arrive just kept an arm around me and the ride to his apartment was just the same.

As we entered the elevator I couldn't help but stare up at him, he still kept a tight hold on my hand while keeping the same stone cold look he's had on his face since we had left the club. Feeling my stare he turned his head to look down at me but never spoke a word, i could see the lust and frustration clouding his eyes.

The ding of the elevator reaching his floor pulled our eyes apart and he surged forward pulling me with him. As we entered his apartment he headed to the living room while i started my way to the bedroom before his voice stopped me.

"Ah uh come here" he called to me

I walked to where he stood by his beautiful floor to ceiling window's and waited for his next move.

"Take your heels off" he commanded

I did as he asked and watched as he turned towards me, he reached a hand up to cup my jaw looking down at me with a dark look in those lust filled eyes.

"I'm gonna fuck you against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it" he smirked at the whimper that escaped my mouth

I couldn't take the tension anymore and quickly leaned up to pull him into a kiss, it was sloppy and rough full of neediness and desperation. A moan escaped my throat as he pinned me against the window and slipped his hand from my jaw to my throat while his free hand parted my thighs and slid under my dress.

A gasp got caught in my throat as he slipped a hand into my panties and ran his index finger through my folds.

"So wet for me" he groaned at the feeling of your wet folds coating his finger in your sweet nectar.

"Lu, stop teasing" I whined

I heard him scoff, "You're not in any position to demand anything right now"

My breathing picked up as he slipped a finger inside me and began pumping it at a slow and teasing pase.

"Been a brat and think you can tell me what to do?" he laughed in my face

He knew i wasn't able to reply to him, to plagued by the pleasure from his hand between my legs and his grip around my throat. I cried out loudly as i felt his ring finger hit that spongy spot inside me and my stomach began to tighten.

"Luke I'm getting close!" i whined but quickly regretted it as i felt him remove his hand from my panties.

I opened my mouth to protest his actions but the sight of him taking his shirt off and his pants following cut me off, he had worked hard this past off season causing a lot of quickies in the gym bathroom.

He stood left in nothing and had me remove my dress and panties also leaving me bare in front of him. He walked me backwards till i was once again pinned against the window and reached his hands under my thighs and signaled me to jump.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he held me in his arms, "Can't wait to fuck you" he groaned as i reached down to direct his thick cock to my core.

We both let out groans as he slipped inside me, allowing me to adjust for a moment before he picked up a pace. He fucked me teasingly at first with slow and deep strokes, i listened to his deep groans and got wetter with each one he let out.

"Baby please go faster" I cried

He looked me in my eyes as he made one more slow thrust before he pulled almost all the way out and snapped his hips into mine at an unforgiving pace.

"Shit!" i cried as his pelvis slammed against my clit

I threw my head back against the glass and felt him lean even closer to place kisses on my neck, i reached up and threaded my fingers through his curls tugging as he nipped my sweet spot.

I felt his thrust starting to get sloppy and his groans get louder in my ear, "Play with yourself Y/N" he demanded

I quickly did as he said and reached a hand in between us to start rubbing my clit, "Lukey i'm getting close" i cried out feeling the fire in my lower stomach get hotter.

"Me too baby, cum with me"

We locked eyes as he gave his last few thrust before we both released with loud moans, Luke bit down on my neck as I pulled harshly on his hair at the feeling of ecstasy rolling through my body and the feeling of his warm cum spilling deep inside me.

We both panted as we parted and Luke sat me down on my feet, i stared up at him with a blissed out expression as he stared down at me with a smirk.

"I'll go get a bath started" I spoke up as i began to step away from him but his hand catching my wrist stopped me.

"Who said I was done with you?" he questioned

"Well I-"

"Well nothing, I told you I was going to fuck you until you learned to behave" he spat as he pulled me into him and picked me up bridal style and walked up over to his couch.

Sorry this ending was kind of ass i didn't know where to go

#luke hughes #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes smut #nhl #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #uluvejay request week #new jersey devils #got a little carried away

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haet-sal · 1 year

Text

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

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

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

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

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

W.c.: 11k

~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Donuts,” Hao says quietly.

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

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

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

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

“Where’s yours?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But I wanna sit on papa’s chair–!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s great, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, Jun!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You snorted as a reply.

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

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

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

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

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

Jun stilled. Palms sweating, there was a moment where he swore his heart stopped, before he remembered how to breathe and regain all brain-control functions again. It might be what people call ‘skipping a beat’ meets ‘brain freeze’. “What?” he basically mumbled, unable to talk very loud, but you heard.

“We’re the only ones with no date,” you told him. “Everyone’s partnered up.” It was true, even people without dates had struck up deals for a new year’s kiss.

“It–it’s just not a good idea,” Jun stuttered.

“It’s a kiss for luck!” Every step you took towards him, Jun stepped back from you until his back hit a desk. Pouting, you add: “I want to have lots of luck next year.”

You must have had a lot of those schnapps and shots from the reception, Jun concludes, but too late: right after he takes the steps backwards, you had pulled him towards you by his tie. Hungry eyes, if he’d ever seen any. “Y/n,” he breathed out against your lips, which came close to him with every passing second, “we can’t.” You pull him in even closer, controlling him by the tie.

You do whatever the fuck you want when you’re drunk, Jun concludes. But it’s setting him into a full-blown panic. “Y–Y/n.”

The countdown starts, and you’re right—everyone’s gathered at the high-rise windows, looking at the parade under the office. No one’s looking back at you, and even if they were, they wouldn’t be able to tell who you were from the mere blue silhouettes of your bodies. At best, they’d just be able to see his white shirt. His entire body shrouded you.

Three!

You’re in every single part of Jun’s senses. He can smell you wearing the perfume he gave you, he can hear the low hum of your breath in his ears, he sees you, he sees the flimsy little dress with the spaghetti straps that keep dropping down to reveal more and more, he just…

Two!

He just has to taste you.

One!

He’s the one that takes the step to meet your lips, and now you’re kissing. You taste like soft cream and feel like good sleep. His tongue darts out, and you welcome it in your mouth.

Jun let out what he thinks is a sigh, but really was more of a moan, a sound that went unsuppressably past his throat and vibrated across your tongue. He thought you looked killer, the spaghetti straps of your dress would sometimes fall just a bit that he could see so much… flesh… from the side, but he won’t think about it, he won’t even look, he won’t be that pervert, the older guy that wants what he can’t have because you’re too shiny and spectacular and just the personification of a starry night, especially in this dress—and he can’t have you! He needed to get that through his head.

You had a boyfriend, you were literally about to go clubbing with him, you were taken, so what was he doing, what was he doing?

When he’s panting post-kiss, he doesn’t know if it’s the kissing making him breathless, or if it’s all his thoughts tiring him out.

“Wanna continue this?” you whispered to him, eyelashes hooding your expression. Jun doesn’t understand why you’d want to—yes, he wants to, but why do you—?

But he nods. He’s the one that grabs your hand, and walks over to his office, and you’re following him. Every time he told himself this was it and there’s no way you’d go further, you do. What the fuck.

The office is almost unrecognizable in the dark, with only the fireworks outside to light it up. You locked the door, and he realizes it hadn’t even crossed his mind.

You push him against the window, and for a second you looked over his shoulder at all the fireworks. He watches them reflect in your eyes, and the sight of you is just haunting.

And then you’re kissing him, his hands are on you again, this time peeling the spaghetti straps off, feeling your bare shoulders, just the feeling of your skin—he hadn’t been with anyone in a long, long time, too busy with his son or work, and to finally have this–with the person he’d been pining for so long…

He almost rips the dress off you, but restrains himself. Your lips feel soft and healing against his own, and then they’re on his neck. He doesn’t even stop you to tell you you can’t leave hickeys–it doesn’t even occur to him. His nose is just buried in your hair, as you trail kisses down his chest—when did you even undo the buttons?—and, when he messes with the straps of your dress again, it just drops to the floor at your feet.

He doesn’t even have the chance to take your form in, in just your strapless bra and panties. You’re rubbing him over his pants, and he’s hard, he wants it, yes, but he’s also dead sober and he couldn’t even stay drunk on you that long.

“Wait,” Jun says, holding up his hand, perhaps to keep some distance from you. “You’re drunk, we can’t go that far.”

With a lick of your lips, you’re undoing his belt and flinging it over your shoulder. When you can’t kiss him the way you wanted, you simply pull him by the tie so he’s on top of you, pinning you down on his desk. You want to kiss, you want his hands on you again, but he’s hesitant, only coming where you pull him.

“Y/n,” he gasped. “Y/n, please—this is a lawsuit.”

You giggled. “I’ll sign an NDA, if you want.”

Jun sighed, heavily breathing. “That’s not the problem.”

But he wants you, and if you want him now, there isn't a choice but to give in. Your naked legs wrap around his waist, and he just trails his hands down them, until they reach your heel-clad feet. It’s so hot, the way he’s allowed you to entrap him.

Jun is fervently kissing down your chest, your bra pulled down, as he enters you. He’s so hard, so bothered, and wet with precum. So hot it could sizzle. You throw your head back and let out a pornographic moan, but he cups his hand over your mouth, wordlessly reminding you that you were only a wall separated from a whole party of people.

Jun hadn’t been this way with anyone in a long time. There had been dates from time to time, but never with someone he actually truly liked. Trembling, his hips stutter, so does his lips, which are moaning your name. He tries to be as quiet and composed as he could, but he feels like he might let the loudest grunt, alerting everyone outside. He bites down on his lip.

He hadn’t been doing this in a while. This makes him impossibly sensitive, and he might release, even if it’s just too soon. You sense it in the stutter of his thrusts and immediately slip off him, and he’s glad, because he knows he can’t cum inside you, but also it was embarrassing to have to tell you. You kneel in front of him, open-mouthed, and he could spasm from the mere sight, before you take him in your hands.

Jun hisses sharply. “Do you see how it’s so white, you were so wet around me—” He interrupts himself with a sharp inhale.

But you’re going slowly, as if you were inexperienced with your tongue, or just wanted to drag the torture out for him. Jun’s hand grip at the table behind him.

“Please,” he moaned. “It hurts.” When he reaches out to touch you it’s fervent, hot. You’re the only thing in the world that could ease the pain and quench the thirst. His hands wrap around your hair, although to him it’s more like you hair had come alive and entangled themselves all over his digits. Your mouth feels so—fuck!

He’s cumming down your throat. Jun whimpered as the sensation of you never truly left him, you take care of him. Until the last of it spills onto the carpet. And he’s just watching you through his eyelashes, tired and giddy. He speaks your name.

You look up for a moment, before your gaze turns towards the door. Someone else was calling your name.

“It’s Arin,” you observe carefully. “You should count to like, three minutes before you come out, maybe more. I’ll go first, okay?”

He wondered if you’ve done these things before, as you strutted outside. The lights were back on outside in the hallway, and he shrouded himself in the shadows, feeling embarrassed but not ashamed.

When he exits the office later, locking the door behind him, there’s a man at your desk, figure defined by a dark puffer coat over a pastel hoodie. “Sorry I missed the kiss,” he was saying.

“I got kissed already,” you told him, avoiding eye-contact.

Guanhang didn’t believe you one bit, especially when you couldn’t meet him in the eye. “Yeah?” he says. “Who was it?”

“Arin,” you say plainly. Guanhang laughs. He grabs your hand.

“Wanna go watch the parade? I’ll put you on my shoulders and everything.” He looked past you, and sees Jun, and offers a tight-lipped smile. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your boss?”

“I don’t see why you’d need to, you’re just some guy I live with, right?”

You grabbed your handbag and strutted towards the elevator, but later Jun hears that Guanhang did put you on his shoulder to see the rest of the parade.

The second of January and business is back, you sit down at your desk after an uncomfortable subway ride and check a day’s worth of missed emails. When Jun comes to work, finally, you offer a smile, but don’t meet him in the eyes. He wasn’t looking at you, either.

“Good morning,” he basically grunted, clearing his throat. He knew it was impersonal, but he didn’t want to say your name, because whenever he spoke your name there was an embarrassing adoration in his voice.

“I’ll get you your coffee,” you told Jun.

You’re beating yourself up while waiting for the order, and you pull out your phone. These were words you couldn’t literally say to him, but on text you felt brave, hiding behind a screen. Not having to read his expressions.

You: hi, i just wanted to tell you…

It’s immediately read, although he doesn’t reply. He's waiting for you.

You: if you can just forget everything! It would be cool

You: what happened that night, I mean

You: I can’t be doing this, I have a boyfriend

Mr. Wen: we can do that.

Mr. Wen: i’m sorry, by the way

You: don’t be.

You: I liked it

Jun tries to forget.

A few days after New Year’s was Jun’s European business trip, and you were glad you wouldn’t have to see him after all. And yet, sitting at your desk two feet away from the office where it all happened made you feel weird. As all your drunk escapades make you feel.

He’d been gone since Monday, and was due back today, to land in the evening. But as you check in with him, you find out his flight’s been delayed.

“There’s engine issues,” he told you. “I don’t know, fingers crossed I make it in time before Hao’s bedtime.”

But an hour later he called you in a panic. “Y/n, fuck—what do I—I don’t even—” When you ask him to tell you, slowly, he tries to calm down. “The babysitter! I told them my flight’s delayed, and she can’t stay all night—I don’t think my plane will land until dawn. Now she’s mad I’m demanding too many hours, because she stayed all night on New Year’s, too…”

You cringed, thinking about New Year’s night.

“I don’t know what to do, can you go to my apartment? I already called Seungkwan, and then I tried Joshua, but—”

“Of course I’ll do it!” you interrupt. “You can’t call your friends, they’re busy men… I’ve got nothing going on, it’s fine. I’ll go.”

Jun sighed in relief. “You sure?”

You looked over at the make-shift dining room table in your apartment. Guanhang promised to be home for dinner, but he hadn’t come home at all. “Yeah,” you told him. “Just try to have a safe flight, okay?”

Hao’s crying, and the babysitter is panicking when you come into the apartment. You quickly explain the situation to her, and she’s soon excused, leaving you and the sobbing boy alone, but at least seeing you, who he associated with his dad, calmed him down a little.

“Your dad’s at the airport,” you explain to the little boy patiently. “You remember airports, right? You’ve been there with daddy?”

He pulls out a plane and asks if Jun is in a similar one, and you answer yes.

“But papa’s always here when I go to sleep,” Hao whined. “And I need someone to watch my back, so the monsters don’t creep up.”

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?” you asked. “Hey, why don’t we sleep in the master bedroom, huh? So you can surprise daddy when he’s home.”

Jun’s giant apartment actually had an office and three bedrooms, but the master bedroom was his, the other was Hao’s—with a little kid-sized bed—and he turned the third bedroom into a playroom, so guests were never expected. You decided once you put Hao to bed, you would go sleep on the couch in the living room, wake up and go home once Jun’s home, you get a day off, anyway.

Jun took a taxi back home. The sun wouldn’t rise for hours. He’d been microdosing on first-class flight champagne all night, and it only made him feel sleepy and unsharp. Plus, he’d been up for an entire day.

He’s stumbling into his apartment, not even taking his shoes off—if he sat down to do it, he’d fall asleep immediately—and only takes them off when he’s in his bedroom. He hears Hao’s little breaths and sniffles, and concludes he’s in his bed.

But when he turns to finally look, you’re there, too, lying on the blankets, not under them. You must have fallen asleep putting Hao to sleep…

Jun tucks you into bed, intending to keep you and Hao there and sleep in the living room, but he can’t deny the welcoming pliability of his bed, so he would just rest his head, on the familiar navy pillows, just a blink, just to shut his eyes…

When you wake up, it's because there’s something in your hand. You blink the sleep out of your eyes, to see that you were holding onto Jun’s hand, held over his sleeping son’s chest.

You flinch away, and with the rustle of the bedsheets, he’s awake.

You’d been sleeping, forehead to forehead and holding hands over the sleeping boy, like you were a family.

You murmur your apologies. He excuses you, and tells you you can keep sleeping for a bit, he’s going to take a shower anyway, he’ll make you and Hao breakfast and then you could leave.

You’re having this whole conversation still lying on the bed like a mom and dad, and he reached over, patting your head. Your hair’s messy, and still had clips in it, never having taken them off. He pets you as if you were something beloved—but you pulled away. Cleared your throat. “Um. You should go shower.”

He’s so tired he doesn’t even know what he’s doing, whole body running on autopilot until he wakes up watching the steam rise out of the showerhead. Jun lets the warm water rush all over his body, pitter-pattering over his closed eyelids and down his broad shoulder. He sighed. He’s travel-weary, and jetlagged, and everything sucked. And he was embarrassed, because of the way you had flinched away from his touch…

Suddenly he heard footsteps outside the bathroom, and despite the sounds of the water, he heard everything (damn you, expensive rich-people shower!).

“I was home until 10, and you’re the one that didn’t come home!” He realized you were screaming, and you were near the bathroom because you had to scream—it was the farthest from where Hao was sleeping, so a blindspot.

“Heng, I had work!”

“Don’t give me that work bullshit, how is there work at fucking midnight?!” Damn. He could hear it despite the call not being on speaker, and also through the sounds of the water. Guanhang could yell, for sure.

“There just was! I’m an assistant–I’m sorry, alright, I’m sorry! I tried to call you last night—”

“Stop fucking calling me, then, fucking leave me alone!” You went quiet, which made Guanhang snap: “why aren’t you saying anything?!”

Jun hears you groan. He tries to tune it out, until at one point he can’t hear anything anymore. It must be over. Hao must still be asleep, although he bets not for long. Jun weighs his options, what he could make for breakfast for the three of you. He lets the warmth of the shower and the prospect of good food lull him into a another open-eyed nap.

Your whereabouts in the house were unknown to him, until he sees your figure enter the bathroom, through steam-mist shrouded silhouettes. He doesn’t say anything, letting you get ready on your own for the day—but you open the door to the shower.

Jun basically jumps back, but sees that now you’re in your tank top, the one you wore under your sweater, and… panties. His eyes don’t linger that long there.

“I wanted to shower, too,” you told him. He doesn’t say anything, half in shock, still tired. But he does watch everything, the way you peeled the pieces of clothing off of you so slowly, and then, under his gaze, felt strange and so cover your breasts with your arms. You look like a pin-up girl, which makes his brain chemistry go woah. You join him under the water, looking as if you didn’t even realize he was there, focused on wetting all of your hair, with closed eyes concentrated on the feeling of the water.

Can he touch you? Jun decided not to bet on it, and leaned back, watching you, dazed. He didn’t even understand what was happening.

You pull him in by the back of his hair, making him lean down to kiss you. As soon as that awkward seal broke, Jun’s on your skin, kissing your naked chest, trying to cover more ground than the water does. But you need his lips on your own, stat, so you yank his head up with a sharp, painful pull of his hair. He winces, but finds he likes the pain—like your coffee, everything you give him is sweet.

“This time you can cum inside of me,” you say raspily against his ears, which makes him feral, turning you around and pressing you up against the glass walls of the shower. He lets out a low growl, reminiscent of his days as a bachelor, before his ex, before Hao. He felt like he was just dripping in that youth again, being inside of you.

It doesn’t occur to him how weird it was. Why would you not even let him pat you on the head, but kiss him naked in the shower? Of course, he came to a conclusive construct in the end: Guanhang. Every time your own boyfriend disappointed you, you came to him.

The next morning, right before he set out to drive to work, came the text:

(2) New messages from Y/N

Forget about yesterday, please

I feel really bad. We shouldn’t have.

Jun would wait. Until Guanhang makes you feel unneeded again, he would wait. He didn’t see it as taking advantage of your sadness—in fact, it was a sadness mutualism. He was there for you when you felt down, and he… Well, he was always sad. You made it worse when you left, but when you were around it felt like heaven.

Guanhang spends nights out, and you wanted to limit your meetings with Jun to just that, but sometimes, you’d take his car to his apartment, fuck, and then he’d drop you off, right before Guanhang comes home from work or whatever he does. You never get caught—Guanhang doesn’t expect you back so quickly. There were nights you spent completely at his apartment, where you’d talk more than you’d fuck, and also play house with Hao, like a little family, and Jun’s never had that, that he begins to actually fool himself. He knows it’s insane, of course, but sometimes between sleepover nights and making you breakfast, he wishes you were Hao’s mom. He thought he’d given up on that a long time ago, but you made him revisit what it feels like to be young and in love.

At the office, you act naturally. You never even show half a glimmer of interest in him, you do your job. No one catches on. Your acting was genuinely convincing, that he’d wonder if you even liked him at all, but once work is over and he’s driving you back, you’re all over him.

He knows, of course, that it all depended on Guanhang, agonizingly so—you only paid attention to Jun when Guanhang wasn’t paying attention to you. And sometimes Jun gave you presents here and there, shopping trips and premium subscriptions—and one time you wanted to give Guanhang a video game as a present, so you siphoned off Jun’s money for that. He knows it’s wrong, you’re stringing him along, but sometimes he knew no better. He chose to know no better.

“She’s just a user,” Minghao told Jun when he finally admitted to it. “If she only comes to you when her boyfriend has off-days, I’m sorry, she’s a user. Nothing more to it.”

Jun knew you didn’t love him, of course, but it’s hard to imagine you completely indifferent to him. You were nice when you’re together.

“Either way,” Minghao says, “It’s a dangerous game. What if she extorts you?”

“She wouldn’t!”

“She has a boyfriend, what if he finds out and blackmails you?!”

Jun admitted to the possibility, but told Minghao not to worry. He was willing to go down for you, although he didn’t dare admit it to his friends.

But Jun let you in every time you knocked, until you became as familiar to him as the back of his hand.

“I’m taking Tuesday afternoon off,” Jun says as he lazily thrusts into you, “We’re trying to get Hao into one of those high-end nursery schools, next year.” He moved in you, and it’s tight and wet, but for you it just feels full, with no movement. You feel a little crazy.

If you weren’t trying so hard to cum, maybe you could have made a joke about how high-end nursery schools can be. But you just nod, peeking at him through scrunched eyes. “Uh-huh!” you squeaked. He’s moving again, and you throw your head back and moan.

“I think I’ll need you there,” Jun says. “I mean, I’ll need to look important and be hands-on, it’s nice to have an assistant there.”

You shiver around his cock, he’s moving but only minimally, and you need the full violent, bottom-out-and-thrusting-in action. You whine.

“Y/n? Are you getting this? I’ll meet you at the office, alright?”

You simply groan, pushing him back and trying to find… whatever was the pussy equivalent of ‘footing’. You try to gain leverage on the desk behind you and bounce, fucking yourself on his cock, and it’s still not enough.

Jun laughs. You are not getting it. You’re basically going feral from the withheld orgasm. Giving you what you wanted, he goes faster, and you nearly scream, gripping onto his white oxford in bunches, lewdly bouncing on his cock. “Want me to touch you?” he questioned, and you nod vehemently. “Yes, yes, yes, yes—”

There must be like 20 kids running around at this party. (“oh my god, triplets!” you whispered to Jun as you first stepped into the garden) Hao’s shy, and wants his father to carry him, preferably back into the car, but Jun refuses, making him walk. He doesn’t cry to protest, which is what you love so much about Hao. “Go play with Hoon,” Jun suggests, dropping to his knees to talk to his son. He pointed the familiar little face out. “Go on, make new friends!”

“He’s a bit like you,” you told Jun as Hao wandered off into the playpens.

Jun turned to you, curious. “How so?”

“He’s shy, but… he makes it work.” You’re back on your phone again, double-checking your boss’s schedule, checking all mail, confirming meeting times and topics. Jun waits for you on a bench until he couldn’t anymore.

He snatches the phone from you. “Work later,” he says. “I’m just like Hao, and I need you to be tailing me at all times so I can have a sense of security.”

“A false sense of security,” you say. “Wait, security from what?”

“The parents’ committee…”

So you’re the one that meets the fear-striking bunch of parents, rich trust fund kids breeding more trust fund kids, whose only purpose was to take care of their children. They might be problematically prideful and impossibly picky, but they made up for it by having an overly welcome demeanor. The triplets’ mother led the committee and also the waitlist to the nursery school, and as you pointed Hao out to her, she gushed over how cute the little guy was. Jun stands demurely behind you, not even accepting the compliment himself.

“He really is a sweet boy,” says the woman, “well it’s no wonder, when his parents are so cute!”

Jun looked at you, wanting to cut in, but he never speaks soon enough, and you’re the one that goes: “thank you!” with a grin. He doesn’t say anything anymore after that.

It’s winter, and when the party’s over the sun had set. Hao’s extra tired, from climbing up walls and running around with the other kids. When you look back at him, a few minutes after having strapped him into his little child seat, he’s out like a light. “He’s kaputt,” you informed Jun.

“Yeah?” He smiled. “Good… hey, I mean, when they thought you were his mom—”

“I hope you don’t mind!” you say. “I just… didn’t want to go through the whole I’m-actually-his-assitant and then they ask where the mom is and then the whole divorce story…”

“I’m actually grateful.” Jun’s lips are tightened but upturned in a little :] smile. “I… never like talking about his mom.” You nodded. After a few minutes of silence, he goes: “well, I mean, if they ask next time where his mom is, and you’re not there…”

“Of course I’ll be there!” you put a hand over his thigh, and squeeze. “Maybe you can keep saying that, I’m gonna be with you guys for a while, aren’t I?”

Jun’s the one that carries his son out of the car and into the apartment, and you follow him upstairs—he promised to make you dinner. As you get into the elevator, you text Guanhang you’ll be eating somewhere else, if he cares.

Guanhang: Where? Maybe I can join you

You: just somewhere with the girls from the office :) girls’ night?

You look up from your phone as little Hao wakes up, cheeks puffy against Jun’s shoulder. “Y/n,” he says sleepily.

“Hey, little guy. We’re home.”

“You’re home,” Hao says with a yawn, and maybe he just said it because he was half-asleep, but you stop in your tracks. You realize you’d been spending more time at your boss’s house than you do in Guanhang’s apartment.

You ran Hao a bath, and you and Jun bathed the little guy together, complete with bathbombs and bath toys. There’s sand from the garden everywhere in his scalp, which you patiently wash off.

“I want Y/n to be my mommy,” Hao says as you gently wet his hair, occasionally dunking him, which he’s patient to.

You let out a laugh, it was just awkward and you didn’t know what to say, how to parent.

You’re not the parent though, and Jun took the little boy into his arms, growing sterner. “Hey, you don’t say things like that, okay?”

“Why not?” the little boy pondered.

“Well, because she’s still young and she might not like—I mean, son, listen, motherhood—I mean, it’s just—you’re cute, don’t worry, you’re the cutest thing ever, but—you can’t just say that to everybody you like!”

“I don’t say it about everybody,” Hao says. “I just say it about y/n!”

You offer a tight-lipped smile, and Hao’s still not done: “I looove y/n. I like her more than mama. Mama’s mama, and Y/n is mommy!”

“I didn’t teach him that,” Jun says quietly. “I swear, I did not teach him that.”

Later when he sends you home, he’s still apologizing profusely. And then, he lights up with a smile. “It’s good he likes you, isn’t it?”

You shrugged. “I mean… yeah. I like that Hao likes me, it’s part of my job.”

Jun presented a little promise ring, a silver band encrusted with diamonds. Minghao sighs. “You cannot be…”

“It’s for Y/n!”

“I thought she wanted no strings attached?” probed Minghao.

Jun frowned, thinking deeply about it. “But…” he sounded as innocent as his own son as he said it, “we’ve come far enough that we can define our relationship. You don’t know what she told me.”

“What?”

“She said, she’ll be here with me and Hao. For a long time.”

“Jun,” Minghao says, sighing, “don’t… don’t do this to yourself or little Hao. Don’t play with someone that obviously doesn’t care about your feelings.”

“I don’t know, Minghao,” Jun sighed. “I think this might be it. I feel like she could… be in my life. Permanently.”

“She’s a user!” Minghao pointed out. “If she comes to you whenever her boyfriend lets her down, and takes advantage of you and your money because you’re needy with a kid, she’s a bad person.”

“She’s never asked for anything from me,” Jun says sadly. “I think you’re wrong.”

“She never denies your gifts, either.”

“Why would she refuse something I’ve already bought her?”

Minghao groans, head in his hands, his friend was not getting it—he’s just not getting it! “Listen,” he told Jun, “you are not asking someone that flaky for a real relationship. You won’t like what you get.”

“Why—”

“She’s still living with a guy!”

“You’re right,” Jun says. He sinks back down into his chair. “I’ll just ask her to move out, first.”

Minghao throws his hands up in the air and lets out the most strangled groan he’s ever made his entire life.

Jun can’t pop the question. It’s hard to just ask someone about their lovelife, even someone he considers to be as close as you. Of course he, with his small circle and busy life, thought you were close, and you knew everything about his life, but did you consider the same of him? He didn’t even know so much about you.

Plus, you never talk about your feelings. The only time you’d ever come close to that were the times where you talked about Guanhang, times when he eavesdropped, just to know what it’s like to be someone you loved, except it wasn’t him, and he could never imagine it being him.

So he thinks that’s where he should start: Guanhang. If you loved him, then you must hang onto him, and if he gets a straight answer about it then he’ll stop the pining. Plus, it would mean he has no chance.

He picked an evening where you were in your feelings. The sky’s a certain shade of blue, from all the citylights polluting the darkness, and it would never dim; you rolled down your side window and stared out, sometimes enjoying the velocity breeze but he just kept getting stuck in traffic, so the car was often still. “Y/n,” he says quietly, voice almost blending in with sounds of the city, “how’s Guanhang?”

“Oh, you mean the guy I live with?” you snort. You rolled your window up so you could hear him better. “He’s fine. Now that he’s taken up a second job we have less time to fight.”

“Do you love him?”

You gasp. “What?”

“Do you even believe in love?” Jun wondered. “I feel like you don’t really act that way.”

“I didn’t use to,” you answered honestly. You sounded so wise to him, he’d never heard you this way before. “But… one day, you know, Guanhang works at a studio, and I listened to one of the stuff he produced—there were like, 30 guys singing on a backtrack, but I knew immediately when his voice was in it. I could just recognize it.”

Jun’s heart clenched in his chest, and if he weren’t driving he’d double over. He hadn’t had his heart broken in so long… not since his broken engagement.

“And,” you say, “one night, Guanhang ‘borrowed’ his friend’s car and we went out of the city, to stargaze. We just had the radio to listen to, so we spent the entire ride driving past the suburbs screaming the lyrics to every song we knew. It was like a competition—and then, at one point, I stopped screaming. I just listened to him. I realized then that’s what love is? If that makes sense? Love is shutting up while you’re singing in the car because you want to hear their voice. And that’s the day I said it. ‘I love you.’ I’ve never said it to anybody before in my life.”

You looked over at Jun. “But now he’s just some guy I live with.”

Well, that wasn’t a straight answer. But he knew he could never ask you now. Guanhang was someone you’d always want to hang onto. With his ex, it had been black-and-white, she didn’t want him and he gave up. But Guanhang was always going to string you along, and he… knew he couldn’t compete. He’d never felt good enough for love, ever since his ex and the wedding debacle.

There’s a letter of resignation on his desk, a few days after that night. You had been growing cold towards him, nights where you slept over grew seldom and seldom until you just stopped. But you give him his coffee every day still, perfectly, even, without spillage, and it always tastes just as sweet, as sweet as only you could make it.

So it’s a shock to him as he read the letter, right in front of your eyes. “Why?” he demanded. He got so fired up he started speaking mandarin. “Wèishéme?!”

“I just…” you say, blinking tears away, “I just can’t do this anymore, and seeing you every day at work like we aren’t something is just...”

“Is it Guanhang?” he demanded.

“No,” you say. “No, I just… I just want positions I deserve. And I feel like I got here because… you liked me.”

“You’re here because I like the way you work,” Jun insisted. You don’t believe him. “No, I—I had this assistant that would color-code everything with custom stickers, but they were all pastel and I basically turned colorblind trying to read them, I had another guy assistant that kept asking questions and making me confirm everything myself, I had this other intern, right before you, that took pictures of me and Hao because he wanted to put it on his blog—Y/n, you’re great. I like that you don’t overcomplicate your systems, you sometimes spill things and trip and fall, but I don’t mind. It’s small flaws I never even saw—I didn’t hire you because of some… sexual ulterior motive. I like you. I like the way you work first, and then I just… fell for the rest of you.”

You looked conflicted, you watch him through your eyelashes. “I want to transfer,” you say, resolute but soft enough. “To Mr. Choi’s company—you know I’m more into that line of work, it’s what I studied. I just think a position there might be better.”

Jun tries to convince you to stay, but he was never a believer in his own self.

You leave, two months later, after treating him just like a stranger whose schedule was the only thing you knew about him.

Jun still has the promise ring, and it’s always somewhere in his pocket, although he hopes that one day he could just lose it, more or less accidentally, but the little velvet box always stayed somewhere in the pockets of his coats or trousers. He didn’t even know why it mattered to him, it’s not like you’d even touched it in your entire life. And yet… when he holds it in his hands, it feels to him like that sweet daydream that never became reality—he never got to touch it, but still, it’s so vivid.

Hao keeps asking why you’re not around, and Jun never knows how to answer. He explains the concept of resignation to the little boy, patiently, and Hao sort of begins to get it.

“So Y/n’s somewhere? In this city? And we just can’t see her?”

It’s supposed to be spring, but the wind still blows harsh and northern like the middle of winter, and it reminds him of you, because all the months you’d worked for him were so cold. He remembers you in your little trenchcoats and woolen things, trying to text with a smart glove on…

“Do you want to see her?” Jun asked Hao. “Maybe we just pay a little visit, for the last time?”

So him and his son are parked in front of the complex he always dropped you off, and he presses the bell for 3A, which you shared with Guanhang. When it buzzes in, Jun takes the little boy on his shoulders.

Guanhang’s waiting at the door, not knowing what he’s being visited for. “We just wanted to see Y/n,” Jun says, awkward because that was his rival he was talking to. “The little guy missed him, is it okay if he—”

“Y/n moved out,” Guanhang says plainly. “A month ago.”

But that was when you resigned. “Do you—know where?”

“That receptionist friend she had,” Guanhang says. “Moved in with her. I don’t fucking know. Don’t look at me like that, I tried to make her stay, too.” The door slams.

Jun calls the personnel office in his car with the engine on, as Hao swings his little legs on the seat. This was a revelation to him—you ended it with Guanhang, and even with him, and everything’s just so clear to Jun, now: you wanted things you deserved. You were starting over. You wanted to work for things yourself. He just wanted you back in his life, he wasn’t bad for you, he would prove it.

The phone comes through. “Hey! Good evening, it’s Jun—I just need to know where Choi Arin lives.”

“For something good, like a bonus, I hope,” replies the man working at the office.

Arin lives in another complex, closer to work this time. The apartment was on the third floor, and Jun climbed the stairs with Hao on his shoulders, once again, only for Arin to come out and tell him you didn’t live there anymore.

“It was just temporary,” she said. “She wanted a real place she could rent—I think Mr. Jo from security hooked her up with a free space in his flat.”

“Hey, Jun again… could you give me the address of Jo from security?”

He doesn’t know which floor you lived on, or even which side of the terrace. He tries door after door, and nice ladies here and there wanted to accompany him for the rest of the search. Then another man wants to see it through, too, and Jun entrusts that his son was grabbing the tail of his coat at all times, following him.

He’s gathered a bunch of people following him when he arrives at the new side of the terrance. He almost loses the motivation to go around asking a whole neighborhood if they knew you, when…

He could hear music, faintly coming from a ground-floor window. He followed it, knowing the melody well—you would hum it all the time, it was your favorite.

He knocks on the door it leads him to.

You come out with a bowed head, and you’re more beautiful than he remembers, although you looked even more tired. If you were living here but working at Seungcheol’s company, you must be waking up so early just to make it there at 9 a.m. Jun reaches out to touch you, as if he had been fooled and you’re just a mirage.

“Y/n!”

You extend your arms to the little boy, and he climbs up. Your laughter is light. “Hao! What are you guys—Jun? What is this?”

He doesn’t know how to start this. He fumbled around with the pockets of his paddington coat, and there were just too many pockets. After going through each of six pockets twice and coming up with just stray used tissues and car keys, he checks his pants, and there it was. He pulls out the little velvet box; a bunch of people gasp. You just mumble, “he wouldn’t.” But you don’t know if he would.

But there is a ring, although at closer inspection you notice it’s not for engagements. A simple promise ring, which you putt out to inspect, and ‘1.1. 00:00’ is engraved on the inside.

Your first kiss. You look up at him, and just when you’re about to speak, Mini-Wen wraps his arms around you. “Missed you, Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Jun starts, “I just—I—I wanted to ask you to be mine. But I was just—I was just afraid. I’ve had this phobia against relationships ever since Hao’s mom left me, and…” (the crowd ‘aww’ed) “I was afraid of getting close to someone again, if they might break my heart, and well, you did–you did, you left. But… I found out it doesn’t even matter. I’m happy to be loving you and getting my heart broken by you. I think you’ve got your fair share of broken hearts, too, but if you trust me—” you’re looking up at him with a brand new look in your eyes. He falters, splutters, as he always did when you look at him. “I can promise you I’ll always be here for you. I’ll keep your place for you, I’ll always protect you, I’ll—”

With Hao still in your arms, you step in and kiss Jun. For a second he forgets to close his eyes, and he just watches you, lips sinking into his. He knows exactly what he feels for you, except he’s just too scared to say what it is.

“Did my speech move you into kissing me?” He murmured against your lips.

“No, but there’s just too many people watching I felt the need to perform.”

Hao plants a kiss on your cheek, and suddenly you and Jun are kissing him back, on each cheek—Jun had imagined showing his son love with this, but it was only you that made it possible.

He brings you and Hao closer into him, warm and padded inside his coat.

“I think I was too preoccupied to tell you on New Year’s,” Jun says. “I hope you have a good year, Y/n.”

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bellaxgiornata · 1 year

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All These Years [Part 3: "Betrayal"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: You met Matthew Murdock unexpectedly at Columbia University and you couldn't deny that there was an instant attraction–for you. But for Matt, you became as close of a friend to him as Foggy did. As the years pass by, your feelings only grow for your best friend, but all you can do is watch as he dates and sleeps with every other woman on campus and eventually in New York City but you.

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains emotional hurt with no comfort until the final installments, angst, pining, friends to lovers, slowburn, and eventually smut

Word Count: 3.8k

a/n: This one is a very angsty installment because we get Elektra in it! And I know some of you probably love her (and I have no qualms with that), but she's definitely not good for Matt and I definitely played that up in this series because, well, angst. So I hope you enjoy because this one hurts... You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. And y'all catch that foreshadow? Because the next one is titled "All the Broken Pieces" for a reason...

Tag list: @theetherealbloom @rotscinema @magnumstyles @roseallisonparker @ofmusesandsecrets @acharliecoxedfan

"Dude, no, how can you possibly think ramen sounds better than pizza right now?" Foggy asked.

"Because," you began, shooting Foggy a pointed look as the pair of you exited the elevator onto the floor of his dorm, "we had pizza last Saturday night. It's been over a month since we've gotten ramen. Therefore, ramen sounds better."

"There is no way soup trumps pizza!" Foggy disagreed.

The pair of you turned the corner of the hallway, Foggy and Matt’s dorm room coming into view. Shaking your head, you readjusted the weight of your backpack on your back.

"Ramen is so much more than just soup , Fog," you argued. "That's an absolute insult to ramen."

"It's glorified soup at best," Foggy stated firmly. "But pizza reigns supreme–especially supreme pizza."

The two of you came to a stop in front of his dorm room door, Foggy pulling his key from his pocket as he waggled his eyebrows at you, clearly proud of his joke. You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as he turned and unlocked the door.

"Okay,” Foggy conceded as he opened the door, “how about we just order–"

But the sight before you both in the dorm room immediately cut him clean off. Your jaw dropped as you witnessed Matt, who was clearly naked under the covers, quickly rolling off of his very clearly naked girlfriend. Though she looked less bothered by the intrusion than Matt as she leisurely pulled the sheets up to cover herself.

"Oh, shit, sorry buddy," Foggy apologized in a rush, his cheeks turning pink. "I didn't–didn't realize you were here and doing things of a particular nature."

Matt held the sheets over his lower half, his bare upper torso exposed. His shoulders were heaving as he tried to catch his breath, an uncomfortable smile spreading on his flushed face as he focused his attention by the door where Foggy had spoken. All the while you tried hard not to stare at Matt’s exposed bare and muscled chest–something you noticed Elektra noticing.

And then jealousy abruptly unfurled in your gut once the scene before you really settled in over the surprise of seeing Matt shirtless. You hated Elektra. And you knew the sight of catching them having sex was going to be forever painfully seared into your mind now. Your heart felt like it was withering in your chest as she settled in comfortably beside Matt in his bed. Stomach twisting into knots as you tried to regain your composure, you closed your mouth and clenched your jaw. You were not going to cry in front of Elektra.

"Uh, didn't realize you would be coming back so soon tonight," Matt said awkwardly.

"Or with your little girlfriend," Elektra added, gesturing a hand at you.

"She's not my girlfriend," Foggy stated, his annoyance at Matt’s girlfriend only just barely contained.

A very sly smile slid onto her red lips as she watched you intently from across the room. You crossed your arms over your chest as you tried hard to fight back the heat steadily growing in your cheeks. She was so infuriating, you couldn't understand what Matt saw in her to keep her around as his girlfriend. And you didn't understand why he would have a relationship with someone like her when he so often had praised you for your kindness and compassion–things she greatly lacked that he seemed to greatly admire.

It had also been awhile since Matt had really hung out with you and Foggy. Three months, to be exact. The exact length of time he'd been seeing her . Elektra Natchios. Or the Soul Sucking Snake Devil as Foggy and you had both taken to referring to her whenever Matt wasn't around. Because that's exactly what she'd done the moment she popped into Matt's life.

He'd been different ever since she'd shown up. He often prioritized her above his class work, on occasion even skipping classes. And if it hadn't been for Foggy staying on Matt's ass about it, his grades probably would've slipped by now. He was always out late with her doing who the hell knew what –you could only guess. Foggy had even told you that sometimes he would wake up to find that Matt wasn't even in his bed in the mornings. And you both noticed how Matt had been drinking more with her, too–to get drunk, not even just the social drinking the three of you usually did. He'd also been quick to anger, and he certainly never had much time for you and Foggy anymore.

You’d honestly barely seen Matt much since she’d appeared. He was hardly ever around when you were here with Foggy, especially on Saturday nights, which used to be a weekly ritual for the three of you. Even at mealtimes he was oddly missing from the dining hall. The last time you’d seen Matt was over a week ago, and it was just in passing as he was leaving his dorm to go meet up with his soul sucking girlfriend.

"You still seem quite prudish, darling," Elektra called out to you in that irritating accented voice of hers. "It's like you've never walked in on two people fucking before. Which, by the sounds of your roommate, shouldn't be such a shock."

Slowly your hands curled into fists where they were crossed over your chest, your nails biting into your palms. Anger burned in your blood, the urge to punch her growing steadily the more she continued to look at you. As if she knew exactly what you were thinking, she flashed her teeth at you in a very threatening smile.

"Maybe you should take some pointers from your roommate," she purred. "Then maybe you'd get out of the friend zone with whoever it is that's got you crying so much."

One of her dark brows rose high up onto her forehead, a knowing smirk pulling the corner of her lips upward. Her hand reached out to Matt’s chest, her nails running along the length of his torso in a clearly territorial manner.

Your eyes had slowly gone wide when her words registered in your mind. Sucking in a sharp breath, your eyes flew to Matt. An ache hit you right in the heart, white hot and painful, as he sent you an abashed, apologetic smile.

"You told her that?" you asked in disbelief.

"She was asking about you the other week," Matt admitted awkwardly, one of his hands rubbing at the back of his neck. "If you were seeing anyone. I didn't think it was a big deal–"

"You didn't think the personal details about myself that I shared with you in private weren’t a big deal and that you could just share that information with whoever the hell you wanted?" you asked, your anger only growing.

"Dude, that's not cool," Foggy pointed out, shaking his head.

"Well she wanted to know if you were seeing anyone!" Matt defended. "How was I supposed to know I couldn't tell her the situation?"

“Because I told you that in confidence , Matt!” you yelled. “You’re a fucking law student, you’d think you’d know what the fuck that meant!”

“Oh darling,” Elektra said cooly, her arm wrapping possessively around the back of Matt’s neck as she spoke, “maybe if you’d just told this gentleman what you thought of him sooner, instead of pining for months , you wouldn’t be in this situation, hmm?”

Your lip curled back in disdain, watching the smug smile she sent your way. She damn well knew this 'gentleman' was Matt. You swore she'd known months ago when you'd first met her, and then she intentionally tried to goad you whenever you were around the pair of them. Only Foggy ever seemed to notice, Matt somehow not believing that she was being intentionally cruel to you.

And now once again you found yourself fighting back tears because of Matt. You were so tired of crying over him. You didn't want to feel like this anymore.

Spinning on your heel, you stalked off away from their room, no longer in the mood for pizza or ramen. Or social interaction. You were going to go find somewhere quiet where you could cry, which you couldn't even do in your dorm because your roommate was no doubt there with her new boyfriend.

Hands tightening around the straps of your backpack, you hurried down the hallway. You felt the tears coming now despite how hard you were struggling to keep them back. She was such a bitch . So heartless and callous. And you hated that Matt somehow fell for her, that he somehow couldn't see what she truly was like. You knew he was blind, but how was he that blind? What the hell did he see in her that made her more desirable to him than you?

Slamming your finger into the call button for the elevator, a soft sob fell out of you. She somehow always managed to make you feel like shit, but you couldn't believe Matt had told her something so personal. He'd occasionally asked you about your crush on and off for months ever since he'd first found out about it after that night at the bar. He knew how much you didn't even want to talk to him about it–because it was him you had feelings for–so how could he have thought it was okay to share that with Elektra?

You heard footsteps coming down the hall behind you and you straightened, sniffling loudly as you wiped a hand across the dampness on your cheeks quickly. You didn’t need someone to see you crying, that would only make you feel worse. And you didn’t want some awkward elevator ride where the person beside you was pretending you weren’t crying while you stood awkwardly beside each other.

But then you heard your name uttered from Matt's lips and your eyes slowly closed. You wanted to disappear at the sound of his voice. Just fucking melt into the floor and avoid whatever awkward and uncomfortable conversation this was about to be. You didn’t want to have it.

"What do you want, Matt?" you asked, an edge to your tone.

You didn't bother turning around because you didn't want to look at him; you didn’t think you could. The moment that elevator came up to the floor you wanted to jump in and close the doors on him. What he'd done, betraying your trust like that, hurt you.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't think it was a big deal," he said gently. "She just asked because she was curious if you were seeing someone. She thought maybe the guy you were interested in was Foggy. I mean, I sort of always wondered that myself."

You pulled a face, surprised at what he'd said. He thought the guy you were upset over was Foggy ? All this time?

"You think I like Foggy?" you asked in shock.

"I mean, it makes sense," he answered slowly. "You two are always together. You have a lot in common. And you are good friends," he finished weakly.

Eyes widening, you spun around to face Matt, about to tell him that he was wrong and that you and Fog were strictly friends, but you faltered the moment you took in the sight of him standing there. He'd only managed to throw on a pair of jeans, his torso still bare and exposed–you would be lying if you said your eyes hadn't lingered on the sight of his bare chest yet again. You saw that he hadn't thrown on his glasses either, apparently in a rush to chase after you. His hair was a disheveled mess on his head, mussed no doubt by Elektra's hands. That knowledge only drove the knife further into your heart and twisted it.

He was so unbelievably handsome that it physically hurt to look at him right now. It didn't help that you absolutely hated who he’d become because of Elektra these past three months. When he hadn’t been with her he was the sweetest guy you'd ever met, always considerate of you; he was even considerate and incredibly kind to strangers he didn’t know. And the way he talked about wanting to use his degree in law to help those who weren't fortunate enough to be able to afford good legal representation, especially with that inspiring passion he always spoke about it with, had only ever made you want to just grab him and kiss him senseless. He was so goddamn smart and so well-spoken. So passionate about what he was doing and so driven when it came to his education. And he had the most beautiful heart you had ever seen in someone on top of it all.

Which was why it absolutely killed you to see him with Elektra. She had ruined all that goodness in Matt the moment she appeared and sunk her claws into him. She didn't even look at him the same way he looked at her. He always gazed at her with a warm affection that lit up his entire face whenever she was near; and you’d often thought what you wouldn't give to be the one he looked at like that, to have him feel like that for you. Instead you saw how she looked at him like he was a toy to wind up and play with, which is exactly what she was always doing with him. Calling him at all hours and demanding he drop everything for her. And he would go running to her like a lost puppy every goddamn time, not caring how it was destroying his friendship with you and Foggy or beginning to affect his grades. And you swore she had only mentioned you being interested in Foggy as a way to push Matt further away from you, though you didn't understand why considering she already had him.

"Foggy and I are just friends, Matt," you stated firmly. "Always have been. He likes that girl Marci. Which you'd know if you were ever around anymore."

"I'm around," he said defensively.

The elevator opened behind you with a ding and you forced your attention off of his half-naked body, turning and stepping into it. Matt instantly rushed forward, throwing a hand out and holding the doors open. You exhaled sharply, irritated that he was drawing this out as you reached out and roughly pressed the button for the main floor.

"I'm around," he said again more firmly.

"I don't even remember the last time you joined us for a Saturday night," you told him.

"Because you and Foggy openly dislike Elektra!" he snapped. "Both of you are so rude to her. You make her so uncomfortable that she doesn't want to spend time with either of you."

Your jaw dropped, shock written all over your face at what he'd said. And then a bitter, humorless laugh flew up out of you. Matt's lips curved into a deep frown at the sound, his left eye twitching a little.

Of course she made it seem like you and Fog were the ones being hurtful and cruel. She would do anything to try to shove a bigger wedge between Matt and his friends, making it so he’d just be all hers. It was such an Elektra move that you were more shocked you hadn’t realized she was doing that to begin with.

“Foggy and I don’t like her because she’s not good for you,” you shot back.

“What are you talking about?” he countered, his brows furrowing. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She understands me like no one else ever has.”

You winced at his words as if they’d somehow struck you themselves. Elektra was the best thing that had ever happened to Matt? That sure as shit fucking hurt to hear. Especially considering the way she treated him and how she was slowly but surely tearing apart his life.

“Foggy and I have known you far longer, Matt,” you said, trying to hide the hurt in your voice. “I think we understand you a little better.”

Matt shook his head instantly, his lips thinning out on his face. “No,” he replied. “Neither of you get me like she does. She’s the only one who truly understands me.”

“Wow, ouch, Matt,” you snapped.

His eyes narrowed as he focused along your chest. You shifted your backpack, the weight of it starting to bother you as he silently scrutinized you, his hand still holding the elevator doors open. You wished he’d just let them go already.

“I’m tired of the way you and Foggy treat her,” he finally said, his voice almost a low growl. “She deserves better than that. And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.”

His words felt like they’d cut you, your breath catching in your throat as you stood there speechless. It felt like you couldn’t take a full breath, your ribcage feeling like it was collapsing in on your lungs at the callousness in his words.

And I’m sorry I told her about your little crush and that it hurt your feelings, but it’s not that big of a deal.

This wasn’t Matt before you, not the Matt you knew at least. Not the one you were head over heels for, the one who’d often walked you back to your dorm or understood all of your ridiculous jokes. The one you’d had serious conversations with when Foggy inevitably passed out early on Saturday nights, the pair of you side by side on Matt's bed. You didn’t know who the hell this version of Matt was before you, glaring and saying such hurtful things, the one who so clearly didn’t care about your feelings.

You hated the way your lips had begun to quiver, that pain and hurt causing tears to once again form in your eyes. Anger and heartache mingled inside of you, boiling in your blood and twisting in your gut. You let out a deep breath, one that shook as it left your lips. Matt’s expression swiftly changed at the sound of it, as if he’d suddenly realized he’d upset you.

Taking a step forward, you grasped his wrist on the hand he was blocking the elevator doors with. You glared back at Matt, jaw clenched as you grit your teeth. You never thought there’d be a time you’d want to hit him, but right now you certainly wished you could.

“You’re a shitty friend, Matthew Murdock,” you spat.

Yanking his hand from off the elevator doors, you tossed it back towards him. He’d been so surprised by your outburst that he hadn’t even reacted. And as the elevator doors finally started to close, the last thing you saw was Matt’s stunned face.

Your back had begun to ache from its place against the tree trunk, the bark rough through the thin fabric of your sweatshirt. It was cold this evening, Fall really starting to settle into New York City now. You assumed it was still a bit too early for you to head back to your dorm, but since you’d turned your phone off, you didn’t really know what time it was or how long you’d been sitting under this tree. After awhile you’d eventually stopped crying, though that hollow ache in your chest seemed to be taking a permanent residence tonight.

“Hey, thought I’d find you here.”

Turning at the voice, you looked up to spot Foggy slowly lowering down to the ground beside you. You shifted, making room for him against the tree trunk. For a few minutes neither of you spoke, Foggy just sitting beside you as you continued to stare at the distant traffic on the nearby street that was just a little past Columbia’s campus.

“I’m sorry about Matt,” Foggy eventually said, breaking the silence.

You shrugged. “Not your place to make apologies for him,” you muttered.

“I know, but I feel bad,” he replied. “He shouldn’t have told Elektra you had a crush on someone. He knows how much it's torn you apart for months now. Even if he doesn't know that it's about him. That was still an incredibly shitty thing of him to do.”

“It was,” you agreed. “And his apology about telling her was fucking terrible.”

Beside you, Foggy nodded. “Yeah, he ended up sending Elektra away when he came back from talking with you. He seemed pretty hurt and upset, especially with what you’d said.”

“Good,” you growled. “He deserves to be the one hurting for once. He was an asshole.”

“He was,” Foggy agreed. “But I think there’s just something about Elektra that’s gotten into his head. He hasn’t been himself lately. I don’t–don’t think that’s Matt. I don’t understand what she’s doing to him, but…he’s not acting like the guy I’ve known for a while now.”

“She’s definitely sucked his soul out of him,” you grumbled, toeing the grass with your shoe.

“I don’t even know what to do anymore,” Foggy said, exasperation evident in his tone. “I can’t break them up, and Matt clearly can’t be reasoned with lately. But he’s slipping. I’m worried about him. And I’m worried about what’s going to happen when she breaks his heart, because I think we both know she’s not going to stick around for the long haul.”

Your heart twisted at the thought of the inevitable day where Elektra broke up with Matt. Foggy was right, there was absolutely no way Elektra was the long term girlfriend type. It was a shock she’d been with Matt for three months already. It felt like the expiration date for their relationship was fast approaching, and you weren’t looking forward to the mess she was going to leave behind in her wake.

“It’ll kill him,” you mumbled.

Foggy let out a deep, dejected sigh as his head fell back to rest along the trunk of the tree beside yours.

“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “And he won’t even see it coming.”

“Nope,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Because she’s perfect . She could never possibly do any wrong by him.”

“And in the end, we’ll be the ones left picking up all the shattered little broken pieces,” Foggy said. “Trying to piece our friend back together. Despite how he’s treated us for the duration of this relationship.”

Your eyes closed, the sting of tears once again returning. Because you knew Foggy was right. You’d still be there with him, helping Matt pick up the pieces of his heart that he willingly let Elektra smash to tiny bits.

Because, like the incredibly foolish idiot you were, you’d gone and fallen in love with him. And for some reason you were too stupid to just walk away.

“Yup,” you whispered, a lone tear falling down your cheek. “We’ll still be here. Doing what friends do.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock x fem reader #matt murdock x f!reader #matt murdock series #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock

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erinkeifer · 6 months

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ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕀𝕍

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: When Anakin was away on missions, all you could do was miss him and work at the temple. Now, on the eve of your knighting ceremony, Anakin returned, very exhausted, but you didn't hesitate to comfort him in a very special way.

Author note: I'm doing my best to make each part readable on its own, without knowledge of the previous ones, so no worries! If you don't want to catch up on the storyline, you can treat it as a one-shot!

Word Count: 4,2k

Though you won't admit it to anyone, you feel that as the ceremony approaches, your self-assurance is growing. The past few weeks have been difficult to endure - Anakin barely returned to the temple, and when he did, it was at night when you had no chance to see him. A few times, you communicated through comlinks, but he was never alone, so you waited very patiently.

However, contact with Anakin wasn't the only thing you lacked patience for during this time. Yesterday marked two weeks since you should have had your period, and if you hadn't gotten it today, your first meeting with Anakin after the separation would have been rather stressful.

Stepping out of the bathroom, a weight lifted off your heart - relieved of one worry, you walked to your wardrobe and chose one of your outfits that you had recently purchased.

In your spare time this week, you allowed yourself to spend a few credits in Coruscant, and since you had gazed at the luxurious boutique next to Luthen's antique shop, you decided to splurge a bit. You had always admired Mon Mothma's fashion, and when you discreetly observed her leaving that very shop during one of your missions, you took it as a true mark of quality.

One of your choices was a beautiful jumpsuit in a dark, iridescent purple, snug with a long, flowing overlay that embraced your shoulders, waist, and gently flared down, creating a gown-like effect. The bottom of it could be fastened, but today, you decided to leave it unfastened, revealing your legs adorned in the shimmering material and high, comfortable heeled shoes.

Leaving your quarters, you made sure your makeup looked flawless and ran your fingers through your unruly, long waves that majestically cascaded down your shoulders like a curtain.

The stretch of the corridor you were walking along, leaving your room, seemed empty, but just around the corner, you heard a familiar noise that piqued your curiosity.

"Hey there? Buddy?" you muttered under your breath, taking a few more steps forward before leaning out from behind a nearby pillar.

"Don't tell me you've been waiting here the whole time!" You smiled, placing your hands on your hips, catching your favorite droid hiding behind the wall. R2-D2 let out a series of chaotic beeps.

"I know, I know, I didn't hear you at all from behind the door." Thank goodness. At least you know Anakin's talk about soundproof rooms wasn't just hot air."

"Did you distribute everything? Didn't miss anyone?" you asked, to which R2 responded with affirmative beeps.

"Good job, my friend. You've earned my gratitude." You patted the droid on the head, and he beeped triumphantly.

With R2's response, you continued forward, walking at a calm pace toward the landing platform where Anakin and the crew would soon arrive. Your heart raced at the thought of reuniting with your master after weeks of waiting, but you tried to suppress any tension within you enough not to arouse any suspicions.

Riding the elevator with the friendly droid, you ascended one floor, and just a few seconds after entering another corridor, you heard familiar footsteps and voices.

"I think we all need a day off." you heard Rex say as he walked in the middle between Obi-Wan and Skywalker.

"Tell that to Master Yoda." Obi-Wan replied jokingly, and the three men laughed, but their eyes quickly landed on you as you walked slowly in their direction.

"Gentlemen." you nodded in greeting and smiled slightly, noticing a certain kind of surprise on their faces.

"Good morning, Ma'am. You're blooming!" Rex greeted, admiringly looking at you, and Anakin glanced at him out of the corner of his eye.

"I have to agree with the Captain's words." Obi-Wan replied with a smile, which you immediately reciprocated.

"Thank you, General, thank you, Captain. It's a pleasure to finally see you. You too, Master." you said, standing tall, with your hands clasped behind your back, and your gaze finally landed on Anakin's eyes. Skywalker nodded, smiling at the corners of his mouth.

"Did you all receive invitations to tomorrow's ceremony? R2-D2 did his best to reach everyone." you asked with a smile, exchanging glances with the three of them.

"We all received them, and of course, we'll be there as a matter of duty. Thank you very much." Obi-Wan replied proudly, to which the rest of them smiled and nodded in agreement.

"I'm glad to hear that. I've heard rumors that your mission today was a success." you replied, wanting to show interest in what was happening around the temple.

"Absolutely. We're just heading to report with the Captain, and then, hopefully, it's time for some well-deserved rest." Kenobi answered, smiling warmly at Rex.

"And rightfully so. I've planned a very long day for tomorrow. Carry on with your duties, I won't keep you." you said, returning Kenobi's smile.

"General Skywalker, I assume that's all for today. We're leaving you with the Padawan." Rex replied before moving with Obi-Wan to the briefing room.

"Yes, I believe so. Give your report and head for some rest." Anakin responded, speaking for the first time during the conversation, and your gaze shifted toward him.

"Just don't kill each other." Kenobi quipped, turning in your direction as he and Captain Rex walked in the opposite direction of the corridor.

"We'll try." you sarcastically retorted, watching both men disappear from your sight.

"Hello, Master." you said to Skywalker when his friendly droid was the only one accompanying you.

"Hey." he responded with a warm tone, initially locking eyes with you, but after a moment, he looked you up and down.

You pretended not to notice his gaze, and though it was challenging to restrain a mischievous smile, you maintained a neutral expression. Anakin knelt down and glanced at his droid, almost as if checking to ensure that no harm had befallen him under your care.

"Missed him, did you?" you said, smiling at the sight of the Master and his faithful assistant.

"Thanks for looking after him." Anakin said, directing his gaze at you and then back at R2.

"It was a pleasure, as always. Besides, he performed quite well." you replied, still smiling.

"Was that so, R2? Did she do well too?" Anakin asked the droid, who beeped chaotically in response.

"All night? Seriously?" Skywalker retorted with feigned annoyance in his voice, turning his gaze to you and raising his eyebrows in surprise. Oh, shut up, you little troublemaker.

"Ooh, he came back in the night after distributing the invitations, and I was already asleep and didn't hear him through the door." you replied, narrowing your eyes at the droid who got you into this, to which Anakin smiled and stood up slowly.

"I'll punish her for that, I promise." he said, patting the droid on the head and pointing in the direction you both slowly started walking.

'I'll hold you to that promise.' you thought in your head as you walked alongside your two companions.

"Anyway, Master, I have two pieces of news: good and bad – which one do you want first?" you replied after a few silent steps, to which Anakin instantly sighed.

"Well, let's get the bad news out of the way first." he replied, turning his attention to you.

"So – it's not time for rest just yet. Yoda has planned a meeting with the younglings, and they're probably waiting for you already." Anakin sighed again and rolled his eyes.

"And the good news?"

"That's the last thing for today – unless the Separatists decide to change our plans – we're off duty for the rest of the day." You smiled, and Anakin's facial expression became slightly more optimistic.

"If you want, I can take R2 for a while, and you can deal with the younglings." you asked with a mischievous smile, subconsciously trying to avoid the tasks you didn't particularly enjoy.

"Oh no, not this time. You're coming with me. It's not just my show." Anakin immediately replied, knowing how much you would like to get out of it.

"Ouch." you muttered under your breath, and the expression on your face dropped.

"No sighing. Get it together, Padawan." Anakin smiled at the corners of his mouth and gave you a motivational nudge on the shoulder.

...................................................................................................................

Perhaps it was supposed to be your joint 'show,' but Anakin certainly struggled more with it. After the training and a long series of presenting new techniques along with answering the kids' questions, the group thanked both of you, and it was time for a well-deserved rest.

"I don't know about you, but I feel like I've been through the wringer." Anakin said, closing the training room door behind you.

Before leaving, you managed to tidy up, collect the props that had been brought from another location, and basically, all that was left was to return them to where they were taken from and head to your respective quarters.

"A bit better, but only a bit. After all, I wasn't the one on a mission today." you smiled, watching Anakin turn the key.

"Uh, right. This way." Skywalker directed, and you headed towards the storage room for training props.

The setting sun tinted the sky with a purple hue, and the temple was beautifully illuminated at this time, feeding your gaze with a beautiful view until you descended to the covered rooms one floor below, where the storage room awaited you. Soon, you emptied your hands there.

"I guess that's it." Anakin said, shaking off his hands and leaning against the wall in the dark room.

"I guess so." you replied, shrugging. Finally, you left the dingy room and closed the door behind you, heading in opposite directions.

"You should go and rest, and I... Well, I guess the first thing is to wash this off me." you said, turning away from Anakin, standing with your back to him. Your hands were dirty from the dust, and even your face had some unwanted spots that you gained inadvertently by touching it.

"Not just you." Anakin replied, pointing to the muddy traces on his clothes and skin.

"On me?" he added after a moment, and you didn't fully understand what he meant by that.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"We can go to my place. Your quarters are on the other side of the Temple, mine's practically around the corner." Anakin clarified, and a green light lit up in your mind. You absolutely didn't want to finish this day alone, and truth be told, you were secretly hoping for it.

"Lead the way." you smiled, and without adding anything else, you headed towards Anakin's quarters, accompanied by R2, who was still with you.

Well, Anakin wasn't lying at all – his quarters were less than a minute away from the storage room, and as soon as you reached the door, you felt a certain kind of tension within you.

You remembered this place; you had been here for a moment when, a few years ago, at Kenobi's command, you had to find Anakin due to a sudden call from the crew. You recalled how much Skywalker didn't want you here – and what stuck in your memory the most was the sight of a woman, none other than Padmé Amidala. That day, you learned about their relationship, but that's already history.

"Come on in, feel free." Anakin's voice snapped you out of the flood of memories, and in the blink of an eye, you returned to reality. With slow steps, you entered the room, and behind you came your Master's friendly droid – well, at least it attempted to enter.

"R2, do me a favor, buddy." Skywalker said to the droid, who directed its indicators toward him as if it started to listen attentively.

"Stay outside and keep an eye in case someone unwanted would be lurking around, okay?" Anakin requested, to which the droid beeped in agreement and retreated behind the door.

"Thanks." he smiled and slowly closed the quarters' door.

Wait, didn't Anakin mention once that on his stretch of the corridor, nobody really hangs around because there's no reason to? Hm, anyway...

His quarters weren't just ordinary quarters. You stood in a spacious, beautifully, albeit somewhat dimly, decorated apartment with a kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a terrace – the latter particularly catching your attention.

The beautifully situated terrace revealed the best view of the cityscape, and in its secluded corner, there was a bar and a large jacuzzi, ingeniously incorporated into the robust structure of the building. On the other side of the terrace, you could see the balconies of guest apartments, which at the moment exuded emptiness.

Well... It's impressive.

"Today's a bit too cold for that." Anakin spoke from behind you as he saw you looking at the outdoor jacuzzi.

"But I can invite you in here." he added after a moment, gesturing for you to follow him, and headed to the bathroom. It was much more spacious than yours – besides the shower, there was also a bathtub, and frankly, you didn't know what you'd prefer for today.

Once both of you were inside, Anakin closed the door behind you and without hesitation began to remove his robes.

"Shit." he muttered under his breath, and you quickly noticed that his issue was with the fabric stuck to a wound, which, when pulled off, caused quite some discomfort.

"Let me..." you reached for his robes to do it more gently and as painlessly as possible.

"Well, at least somewhat lighter than last time..." you remarked, revealing rather fresh, though less extensive, wounds on his chest. It was worse when it came to bruises – you weren't surprised he felt like he'd been through the wringer.

"Have you checked this in the Med Bay? Something might be fractured..." you asked, looking with concern at the purplish marks on Skywalker's body.

"Nah, nothing major. Thanks." he replied, taking back his robes from you and tossing them into the laundry basket.

You weren't sure whether to start undressing yourself; you were sore too, though not for the same reasons as Anakin, and frankly, you didn't know how to tell him that today, there wouldn't be anything 'interesting' happening.

Skywalker, on the other hand, didn't hesitate to remove his pants and boxers, then took two towels from the hanger, tossing one in your direction.

"Won't you join?" he asked, stepping into the shower cabin. Finally, you tore your eyes away from the mirror where you examined your slightly stained face, and had to admit it to yourself again – his body was intimidating.

Your heart raced faster, and though you didn't know what to say, you took off the upper part of your jumpsuit, standing in front of Anakin in just tight pants. Skywalker scanned your bare chest, and before – as usual – you instinctively began to cover yourself, he pulled you into the – still dry – shower cabin.

"Still got that same tic, sunshine?" he whispered, standing very close, his face near yours, taking your waist in a strong grip.

"You have no idea what you did to me in this... outfit." he continued, bringing his face to your ear.

"But you know what's wrong?" he murmured, gently tilting your chin in his direction with a slight movement of his hand.

"That I haven't ripped the rest of your clothes off yet."

At that moment, you felt your back forcefully collide with the wall, and you let out a slight hiss, not even noticing when Anakin's hands reached for the zipper of your pants.

"Anakin, please, wait..." Although Skywalker's hands trembled with desire, your dramatic tone halted his further movements, and his eyes landed on yours.

"I... I can't." you said with a hint of disappointment in your voice.

"Why?"

"You know... I'm bleeding." you blushed, trying to gently withdraw Anakin's hands from your zipper.

"Darling, you know I really don't have a prob..." he started, but you quickly interrupted him,

"I know, but... Somehow I can't. And it hurts a bit too much..." you replied, and only after a moment did you process in your mind the term Anakin used to address you – 'Darling'... You felt like melting for a moment.

"I can leave your underwear on if that's okay with you, but just be here with me, okay?" he suggested.

"I mean... You can take everything off; I'm protected... We just won't..."

"Okay, sure..." he replied, and following your words, he slid your pants and underwear off.

When all the clothes were lying on the floor, Anakin closed the shower cabin's door and gently let the water flow. In the first moments, he didn't move, just watched. He watched as your body became increasingly wet and shimmered with water droplets falling onto it.

You made the first move, gently embracing him at the waist and nestling into the wet strands of hair falling on his shoulders. Soon, however, you felt as if some demon had awakened in Skywalker – his strong arms gripped you around the waist and turned you towards the wall, so you collided with it with your breasts, while Anakin pressed his body against yours from behind.

"You have no idea... Damn... You have no idea how you would fight for survival on this wall if I could fuck you right now." he muttered into your ear with a hoarse, needy voice, colliding with your body and simultaneously pressing you against the wall.

"You'd have worse bruises than mine, you know that???" You responded only with soft moans, feeling how his words ignited you from within. Suddenly, he turned your body back to face him.

"Kiss me." he whispered, and you didn't hesitate, just pressed your wet lips against his. The kiss lingered; when you ran out of breath, you pulled away for a second, so he could slip his tongue back into your mouth after a while.

Moment by moment, it became increasingly sloppy, and your hands wandered chaotically over each other's bodies. Soon, you parted your lips from each other—only a thin thread of your saliva separated them.

You looked at him and saw how painfully hard he was; you gently touched his lower abdomen when he didn't take his eyes off you.

"How can I take care of you?" you whispered, returning your gaze to your Master, who took a moment to think.

"Kneel."

One word was enough for you to start feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. Without breaking eye contact with Anakin, you complied with his request and slowly bent down on your knees, ultimately kneeling before him on the wet shower floor.

He smiled at the corners of his mouth as his hand caressed your face, and his fingers traced a ticklish path across your cheeks. Finally, one of his fingers began to wander over your lips, eventually stopping and gently parting them.

"Open your mouth."

Obediently, you did as your master commanded, and although you expected something different, Anakin inserted two fingers into your mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he slid them in as deep as possible, as if testing you.

He watched attentively every one of your grimaces, and the longer he looked, the more painful his desire became. When he 'prepared' your lips and felt he was on the edge, he withdrew his fingers from your mouth and pivoted his body closer, almost touching his length to your face.

"Do it for me." he whispered, and you swallowed saliva, wanting to please him in the best possible way but also fearing you wouldn't handle his massive size. To start, you wanted to assist yourself with your hands—placing them at the base—but he gently set them aside.

"For now, just your mouth, please." he muttered, and you nodded, placing your hands on his hips, trying not to squeeze too tightly around the bruised areas.

Finally, you took a deep breath and enveloped the tip of his erection with your lips, suctioning and teasing it lightly with your tongue. Anakin hissed softly, feeling the touch of your lips on his throbbing, sensitive point, while you gradually tried to test your boundaries.

You pressed your lips against his shaft and began maneuvering them with a sliding motion, so far unable to reach even halfway. Anakin's quiet moans were music to your ears, motivating you to maintain your pace—a pace he thought he had already outlined in his wicked plan.

Soon, you felt his trembling but strong fingers grabbing your hair, first with his mechanical hand, then adding the other, initially without applying pressure.

The sound of his deep, increasingly rapid breaths, the gentle stream of water, and the wet sound of your lips sliding along his length filled your ears—enough to make you feel ecstatic, but at the same time, you felt a blockage. You were afraid of choking, afraid of embarrassing yourself, and he knew it all along, piercing you not only with his gaze but also with his mind.

"D-do you remember what I said when we were heading to training?" he muttered above you, and you released him from your mouth for a moment to look at him questioningly.

"Do you mean..." you began to wonder, but he didn't let you.

"I promised to punish you." Hearing his words, you could simultaneously see something beastly awakening in him, and his dilated pupils buried in you widened.

"Take it." he growled, and you repositioned your mouth as before, continuing what you hadn't finished. Suddenly, you felt the pressure of his hands on your head, and your mouth filled even more.

Your eyes narrowed more and more, and your lips grew numb as his wicked smile spread across his face. Taking one of his hands off your head, he patted your cheek when you involuntarily crossed over half of his length, and tears welled up in your eyes. You thought you could somehow adjust your throat to him, but all that remained for you was to accept your fate when suddenly he began to fulfill what he desired so much. He thrust straight into your throat.

For a moment, it felt like you were falling apart, and when he did it a second time, the tears accumulated in your eyes instantly splashed onto your cheeks.

"Oh my... Fuck!" Anakin almost shouted, feeling how hopelessly you clenched onto him.

You were so overwhelmed by the intense sensation that it belatedly occurred to you that you were practically choking. Impulsively, you pulled away from Anakin, somehow overpowering the grip of his hands, but he still wasn't as strong as he planned.

"Don't even think..." he growled, thrusting again into your mouth, but before this—fortunately—you managed to quickly take a deep breath.

"Keep going... Just a bit more... -Fuck... A little more." he muttered, breathing heavily and trembling with excitement, watching you take his thrusts painfully.

You whimpered, choking on his length, and he fucked your face until your lips reached the very base. As he felt your trembling hands digging into his bruised hips, his loud moans mixed with growls, punishing you for it, pressing you against him so hard that he didn't even consider that you might vomit at any moment.

"I'm... Oh fuck... Oh f-fuck." Anakin began to choke on his own voice as he felt his orgasm approaching, and his back forcefully hit the shower wall as he tried to maintain balance.

His hands were numb as he climaxed, so when he didn't press you so hard anymore, you helped yourself with your hands, jerking him with great force until you finally felt his warm cum filling your mouth. His own throat muffled the screams he could have let out—he groaned and panted above you with clenched eyes until he emptied himself completely. When he finished, he grabbed the wall next to him to gain any balance.

You slumped hopelessly onto the wet shower floor, trying to catch your breath. Your makeup was smeared, and mascara ran down your face in numerous teary streaks. Both of you were detached from the galaxy at that moment—you had no strength for anything, not even to simply leave the shower. After a few minutes of regaining your breath, Anakin slowly turned off the water tap, and the only sound that reached his ears at that moment was your—still quite rapid—breathing.

When he felt less numb, he opened the shower door and, smoothing your back beforehand, carried you out of the cabin. You calmed down, feeling his pulsating chest so closely, and without saying anything—without even having the strength—you simply waited for the next scenario.

Exiting the bathroom, he immediately guided you towards the spacious bed that awaited just around the corner, and the next thing you felt was the touch of a soft mattress.

After gently placing you on the bed, Anakin handed you a blanket, which he eventually decided to spread himself. Before lying down, he sat beside you, smiling at the corners of his mouth at the sight of your exhausted face.

"Now it's time to rest."

195 notes · View notes

waywardxwords · 8 months

Text

Witches

Summary: While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: DO NOT ENGAGE IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18; THIS CONTENT IS RATED M FOR MATURE Swearing, Supernatural-y things (witches), sex pollen trope, smut (p in v, f masturbation), fluff

A/N: This is my first time writing Dean smut and also my first time using the whole sex pollen trope. But this was fun, and I enjoyed writing it. If you’re feeling up to it, please let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

There wasn’t anything you hated more in this supernatural world than witches. They were ruthless, conniving and downright batshit crazy. But alas, if you and your hunting buddies didn’t hunt them, then no one would. They would continue wreaking havoc on anyone they wanted, and you couldn’t have that.

So now you found yourself in the living room of a woman you had suspected spent her free time doing witchy things. You had no idea what you were looking for–bones, spell books, weird herbs or plants; the options were literally endless.

All you knew: people in this town all connected to this woman were ending up in rather interesting predicaments and you were determined to find out why.

“Don’t touch anything that looks suspicious,” Dean’s voice came through the other line as you used one hand to press your phone to your ear. “I really wish you would’ve waited for me. We should’ve gone in together.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no time for that,” you muttered as you searched. There were a bunch of old books, but none of them screamed hocus pocus to you. You fumbled with a tiny wooden trinket box that had intricate lines and details on the outside. As you lifted the lid, you saw it contained some kind of yellowish-green powder. “This is interesting…” your voice trailed off as you brought the box closer to investigate. With your phone pressed between your shoulder and ear, you lifted the box.

“I’m serious, do not touch anything. You listenin’ to me?” You rolled your eyes at his voice.

“I’m not touching anything, Dean. Cool it,” you mumbled as you examined the substance. Within a moment, your nose suddenly felt tingly and itchy. It started before you could stop it—sneeze. A cloud of the yellowish-green powder encircled your face and created a haze. Your eyes immediately felt watery. The phone fell from your ear as you hurried to place the box back down on the table and brushed your face with your hands. As you pulled your hands away, you saw dusty yellowish-green hues. You missed Dean calling your name through the phone, but he didn’t miss the words that fell from your lips in the background. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” You breathed as you plucked the phone from the hardwood floor and brought it back to your ear.

“What’s happening?” Dean’s voice was elevated and you heard the rev of the Impala’s engine in the background.

“Uh, Dean?” You watched the powder on the floor around you. “I accidentally touched it.”

“God dammit,” he groaned. “I’ll be right there.”

Dean had gotten to the witch’s house in minutes, which made you realize you probably should have waited for him and gone in together. But that didn’t matter anymore. You were waiting for symptoms to start–every little thing you felt made you wonder if it was caused by the mysterious substance.

“Talk to me, Sammy,” Dean answered the phone roughly as he sped to get back to the motel. He said it was the safest place to be in case something happened. Sam was on his own hunt, about four hours away. “It’s like a yellow color,” he described, as Sam probably asked what it looked like.

“Like pollen,” you murmured from the passenger seat. Suddenly, you felt warmth in the pit of your stomach. It was an odd feeling, almost like you had just consumed a warm cup of tea or hot soup.

“Yeah, like pollen,” Dean repeated into the phone. The warmth wasn’t going away, it was only getting hotter. So hot, you felt the need to pull off your leather jacket even though the cool autumn air nipped at your skin. Dean did a double take from the road to you, and back again. “What are you doing?” He pulled the phone slightly away from his mouth.

“I’m getting really hot, Dean,” you mumbled, worry crept through your words. You didn’t get worried often—or show it, at least—but these damn witches…all bets were off.

“She says she’s getting hot,” Dean relayed over the phone before pulling it away and hitting the ‘Speaker’ button.

“Uh, okay…so she sneezed into a box of pollen and now she feels hot?” Sam was typing as he spoke.

“Somethin’ like that,” Dean confirmed as he turned into the parking lot of the motel. By now, your skin was on fire. The heat had spread from just the pit of your stomach to your chest, your arms, your face, and…other places you preferred not to mention.

“I’m on fire,” you mumbled as tears stung your eyes. As soon as the car was in park, you had the front passenger door open and moved to be outside of the Impala. The cold air felt glorious on your skin, but the fear kept your feet moving.

“She’s burning up, Sammy. You got anything? Anything at all?” The worry was present in Dean’s voice, as well, though you barely noticed over the waves of heat coursing through you.

Once the two of you got into your shared motel room, you beelined for the bathroom. Your fingers wrapped around the edges of the porcelain sink and you closed your eyes. The coolness from the surface of the sink calmed your shakes, even if just for a moment.

“A what pollen?” Dean asked into the phone, as if he couldn’t have heard Sam correctly. After a pause, he continued. “You gotta be kidding me.” He breathed, but didn’t hesitate to get his mind back in the game. “Okay, walk me through it.”

Dean’s tone should have made you nervous, but all you could focus on was the way your heart nearly vibrated in your chest. There was a heat blazing so hot in your center, that you realized at that moment it had created a slickness in your underwear. Your nipples were so hard, they ached against the soft cotton fabric of your bra.

You glanced up to look in the mirror for the first time. That’s when you noticed the heat had risen and created patches of redness up your chest and into your cheeks. Your breathing was labored, almost, and you realized it was as if you had just had…

“Okay, hear me out,” Dean grumbled as he tossed his cell phone onto his bed and ran his hand over his mouth as he tried to find the right words. “You’re not gonna like this…but it’s called sex pollen.” He cleared his voice before he said it.

“I’m sorry, what?” Your chest rose and fell with each breath, you eyed him carefully but that made you feel even hotter. The warmth was overwhelming, so you fanned yourself with one of your hands.

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up as if he were just the messenger. “It’s a spell. It makes you wanna get it on, Marvin Gaye style.” He couldn’t help the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. You rolled your eyes and threw the hand towel at his face, missing slightly. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Get it together,” you huffed. “So how do I break it?”

Dean gnawed at the inside of his lip, which was something you hadn’t seen him do before—or noticed, anyway. God, you couldn’t look away from his mouth. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you thought you might crumble. Your fingers reached out quickly to grip the doorway of the bathroom.

“From what Sam has read,” he paused as he nervously rubbed at the back of his neck. “You gotta…do it.”

Your eyes narrowed at him. “Do it?” You repeated. “Can you be a grown-up for five seconds, please?”

“Sex, darlin’,” he closed his eyes and said it hurriedly. “You gotta have sex.”

All of the color drained from your face. Even though you knew that was what he meant, it was still a lot to take in (no pun intended). You closed your eyes for a moment as you tried to force your brain to work, but all of the blood seemed to be rerouted to other parts of your body.

The feelings that ran over you made you realize you were feeling extreme sensations of being turned on. This went far above any other time you had felt this way—thinking about it almost made it worse.

“You still with me, sweetheart?” Dean’s voice broke you out of your thoughts. When you peeled back your eyelids, you were met with his green gaze. You had never seen his eyes so green before—and in the hue of the motel bedside lamps, you spotted speckles of gold and brown. You had never noticed how beautiful his eyes were before.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered over the word. “So what now? Just try to let it pass?”

Dean cleared his throat and broke away from your stare, his tongue darted out over his bottom lip again. God dammit, if he doesn’t put that tongue away… You tried not to squirm standing there in your jeans and a tank top. “Uh, actually, Sammy said if you don’t…take care of it,” he waved his hand in front of himself in a circular motion. “It uh, it can be fatal.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” You blinked once, then twice.

“Yeah, uh, you gotta take care of it,” he brought his hand up to rub at the back of his neck again. You noticed the way his bicep flexed and tugged at the flannel that covered his arm. The heat in your parties made you think they may actually catch on fire.

“Fuck, Dean,” you groaned and turned to move. The only thing that seemed to bring you any kind of relief was pacing. The friction your jeans caused between your legs was incredible. “What if…” you hesitated as you processed. “What if I try to ‘take care of it’ myself?” You used air quotes and looked back at him.

He seemed to process for a second. “I mean, maybe? I don’t have any idea…” the tension in the room was so awkward. But the more time that passed, the harder it was for you to look at Dean and try to not jump his bones.

“Okay, go to the bathroom…do not come out, you hear me?” You instructed firmly. Dean grabbed his phone and nodded.

“I’ll text Sammy and see if he’s found anything else,” he mumbled and hurried to the bathroom before he closed the door. You weren’t sure, but you could’ve sworn you saw him blush—and Dean Winchester never blushed.

By the time you heard the door click closed, your fingers worked the button on your jeans. As soon as the clasp was freed, you shimmied them down your thighs and kicked them off to the side. You decided to leave your underwear and tank top on, fully aware of the man just on the other side of the bathroom door.

As you dropped down on the bed and sat up against the headboard, your knees parted automatically. The heat that escaped between your legs was so intense that the cool air made you gasp. You closed your eyes as your hand snuck under the band of your black panties. The only thing you could see was Dean…his chiseled jaw, the way it tightened when he was mad, or frustrated or deep in thought; the rough stubble scattered across his lower face and chin; the way his eyes bore into you every time he looked your way. These weren’t new feelings, just feelings you had been able to avoid for so long. Now that the sex pollen had taken over, all bets were off.

Your index finger circled your clit. You tried to be quiet, truly. This situation was awkward enough and you knew the doors in this motel were practically cardboard and didn’t contain the sound. But the moans still fell from your lips hastily. You couldn’t stop them once you started. You dipped your fingers down and couldn’t believe the wetness there; the feeling was overwhelming. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut once more, envisioning the god of a man on the other side of the door. And then it happened. “Ugh, Dean,” his name rolled off of your lips dripped in absolute bliss.

“Uh, you okay in there, sweetheart?” Fuck. He had heard it. The blush rising even stronger in your cheeks literally burned your face. Tears you hadn’t realized had pooled in your eyes blurred your vision.

“God dammit,” you groaned. No matter how hard you tried, you knew this wasn’t working. “I’m uh, I’m fine, Dean.” You hoped it would be enough to appease him.

“Listen, uh, Sammy just wrote me back. He said it’s not gonna work…you, uh, taking care of it yourself,” he cleared his throat twice. Oh awesome, you thought to yourself. Both of the Winchesters know I’m trying to masturbate this spell away… You knew what that meant. Before your brain could process, you heard him again. “You decent? I’m comin’ in.”

You practically squealed and clawed at the comforter to cover yourself. The door to the bathroom creaked open and Dean hesitantly peered around it. By the time he made it into the room, you were mostly covered but your right leg had slipped out under the comforter and Dean caught a glimpse of skin from your foot all the way up to where your underwear sat above your hip.

Your eyes connected and you noticed his jaw tightened. But this time, it wasn’t because he was mad or frustrated…maybe in deep thought, but something felt different; something felt darker than that.

“It’s not working,” you murmured, your chest still heaved with each heavy breath you took. Your fingers gripped the comforter so tightly at your chest, your knuckles were white.

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice somehow sounded deeper than it had moments before. You weren’t sure if you were imagining it, or maybe it was the sex pollen. But either way, it made your body tremble.

You followed Dean’s gaze to your leg—he absolutely saw the tremble.

“Listen, I don’t want to make this weird,” he rubbed a hand down his face again. The way his mouth dropped open made the heat rise even more. “But you can’t fix this by yourself.” You knew he was hesitating; hesitating to take it further. You wondered if it was because he didn’t want it, maybe he didn’t want you.

“Help me fix this,” the tears blurred at your eyes again. “Dean, I’m begging you. Everything is on fire. My body literally feels like I’m going to combust.” You hated that your voice cracked, but you were truly starting to freak out. “I don’t want you to do something you don’t wanna do…”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Dean nervously chuckled as he shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “I don’t want you to do something just because you have to…” his voice trailed off as his eyes studied you. Realization set in that Dean wasn’t able to hide his attraction or interest in that moment. His jeans had tightened quite a bit in his groin, revealing a bulge that made you practically pant.

“I need you, Dean. But I also want you,” you practically drooled at this point. “I want you so, so bad.”

Dean’s hands moved to unbutton the buttons to his flannel quickly—you scrambled out from underneath the comforter to where he stood at the end of the bed on your knees to help him with the rest. You gave up after the second button and pulled the two sides harshly apart, sending buttons flying to bounce onto the multicolored carpet below.

“Christ,” he breathed as he moved to undo the metal button on his jeans. Instantly, his hands cupped your cheeks. He paused for only a moment. After one more look into your eyes to make sure this was okay, you met in the middle as your lips crashed against one another.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” the words rolled off of your lips like it was nothing—but it was so much more than nothing. It was something you hadn’t meant to say, but the sex pollen haze made your filter dissipate. Your lips pulled apart with a pop and your eyes found his.

“God, me too,” he almost growled as he toppled you back onto the bed once more. Dean was on top of you, your legs parted automatically. He held himself up with one arm and kissed you in a way you had never been kissed before.

“Dean, I need you to touch me. Please,” the need in your voice was mixed with begging at this point. “Everything is on fire.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” his words drawled together, intoxicated with lust. The hand that wasn’t supporting his body weight trailed down your side. He pulled back and sat on his knees, pulling you with him so you were sitting up. His fingers grasped the hem of your tank top and pulled it up and over your head in one swift motion. He reached behind you and masterfully unclasped your black bra. As soon as it fell away, the cool air from the room bit at your already hardened nipples, causing you to hiss out loud.

Just as quickly as he pulled you up, he pushed you gently back to the bed on your back as he settled between your legs once more.

“You’re so god damn beautiful,” he murmured as his lips connected with your neck. He planted hasty wet kisses from just below your ear lobe, down your collarbone to the top of your breasts.

“Dean,” your hips writhed against him. You needed more.

“I know, baby,” he breathed as his hand finally began to trace down your side, his fingertips left goosebumps on their way until they reached your hip bone. He pulled the material of your underwear until they slid off of your hips. He pulled until they were down near your feet where you could kick them off.

His fingertips trailed to your center and circled your clit just as you had done moments before. His index finger slipped easily inside of you before he decided to add his middle finger to the mix.

“Oh,” you breathed out, your head tilted backward so your neck was exposed. Dean took the opportunity happily, his lips sucked and kissed every inch of skin there as he pumped his fingers into you. “Dean, please.” You were doing a lot of begging, but you literally couldn’t help it. You felt like you would implode if he didn’t take you right then and there.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart,” he murmured against the flesh of your neck.

“I don’t really have time for patience,” you groaned. Dean pulled back for a moment, almost as if he had forgotten this was initiated from the sex pollen to begin with. He swallowed hard as his eyes trailed your naked body, his jaw tightened. He quickly pulled off his flannel, within seconds his fingers pulled at the hem of his t-shirt. Next up was his jeans, and then his boxers.

Your body squirmed at the sight–he was stunning. Your eyes trailed down his biceps to his forearms–down his chest, to the delicious V and then…

Your breath got caught in the back of your throat, but before you could gasp for air, his lips were back on you again and you felt his hardness against your thigh. “I don’t have a condom…” he grumbled as his head dropped into the crook of your neck.

“Birth control, Dean,” you mumbled against his hair. His lips found yours again, moving against them as if his life depended on it–and, well, yours sort of did. He pulled back for a moment and found your eyes, as if he was asking if you were sure about this. You knew there was no going back at this point, so you raised your head to capture his lips in yours again. You pulled his bottom lip between your teeth gently, which elicited a moan from him.

And then in a second, you felt him enter you. It could have been the sex pollen, but you didn’t think so. The feeling was the most incredible sensation you had ever felt. The way your body fit against his was something you could have never imagined—even in the nights you had drifted off to sleep thinking about what this might feel like.

He moved slowly at first; too slowly to appease the effects of the damn sex pollen. Your hips rose to meet his and you wrapped your legs around his waist, linking your feet behind him at your ankles. He obliged, and angled his body in a way that you could feel absolutely every inch of him inside of you.

“God damn, you feel so good,” he groaned as he pressed his forehead to yours. You had never felt so close to someone in your entire life, and you prayed it wasn’t just another symptom of the pollen.

“You’re tellin’ me,” you moaned as he reached down with the arm that wasn’t supporting his weight and pulled your leg behind your knee so it rested in the crook of his elbow. “Jesus, Dean.” You bit down on your lower lip so hard you thought you tasted blood for a second. It didn’t matter; nothing mattered in that moment.

He rocked against you so hard, the headboard bounced off of the thin wall of the motel room—the picture that hung above you rattled. Nothing mattered.

Dean brought his lips hastily to your ear and kissed just below it before he whispered, “I want you to touch yourself, sweetheart. Let yourself go.” You shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your earlobe and the words he whispered huskily. You could hardly take it.

Your release had already started to build—which wasn’t too surprising, considering how turned on you were to begin with. You snaked your fingers down between your bodies, the feeling of his pelvis crashing against yours sent another wave of goosebumps over your skin.

You began to circle your clit with your fingertip as he secured your leg in the crook of his arm, his bicep flexed tightly. The sensation was overwhelming and you found yourself practically babbling moans and words strung together. “Fuck, Dean. Jesus, Mary and Joseph,” that elicited another chuckle from his lips but didn’t disrupt his movements as he plummeted into you. It felt like he was breaking through your cervix at this point.

“Let yourself go,” he could feel your muscles beginning to twitch around him. His words tossed you over the edge. “Take what you need, sweetheart.”

That was it. You felt like your release was practically boiling as it shook you to your core. You saw flashes of color, and your ears were ringing. Dean moved through it for you as you rode the wave. You vaguely heard yourself yell out his name as everything crashed around you.

“You okay? You want me to stop?” He almost winced as his hips urged him to move but he wanted to respect the fact that the spell you were under had most likely dissipated now.

“Don’t stop,” you hurriedly told him as you rocked your hips against him once more. “Your turn.” You leaned up to connect your lips to a sweet spot on his neck, your tongue ran over his stubble and nipped gently which elicited a groan from the back of his throat.

“God damn,” he growled as his pace quickened again. Your muscles still twitched from your orgasm, you thought it might roll into a second wave—which would have been a first for you.

After a few more thrusts from Dean, he practically collapsed on your chest. Your fingertips found his back, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You dug your nails gently as you drew small smoothing circles upon his skin. After a moment, he rolled so he was on his back just beside you.

“That was magical,” your words practically slurred together as the room was filled with heavy breathing from both you and Dean—your chests rose and fell with each breath.

Dean’s eyes were sealed shut, but you saw the grin that pulled at his lips and he chuckled.

“You sure that’s not the sex pollen talkin’?” He drawled, his words etched together as well—a combination of exhaustion and post-sex effects.

You gently bit at your bottom lip and glanced at him from your side of the bed. His eyes were still shut lazily, a slick layer of sweat glistened in the dim light of the motel. Maybe it was still sex pollen remnants, maybe not—but something gave you a sense of courage you had never had before. You leaned over his body and inched towards his face. “Guess we’ll just have to let round two decide…”

His eyes shot open but his grin stretched wider so you could see his bright white smile. His gaze trailed from your eyes to your lips. Just before he leaned up to press his lips to yours, he said, “Guess we will, won’t we?”

And for the first time in your entire life—you were thankful for witches.

---------

A/N: Eek! I always get nervous posting ~smut~, but here we are! I love hearing what you think, so please don't be afraid to comment! Even if it's something I could work on for next time. Hope you enjoyed it!

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @lyarr24 @roseblue373 @nelachu2423 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197

#supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural ff #spn fanfic #spn ff #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fic #dean x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester ff

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respectthepetty · 4 months

Text

Pit Babe Colors Ep. 8

I'm challenging myself with this show and seeing how good my color skills really are, so I'm doing my normal thing of watching it double-speed on mute, but now, the captions are off also. It's just colors and vibes here. Also, I know way more than I intended because of comments and reblogs on previous posts, so I'm in the know now.

Kim looking at Kenta's face right before the elevator closed is the only thing keeping me from losing it. If Kentana doesn't save Kimberly, what is the point of this?! What is the point of Kentana?!

Are y'all a couple now? Y'all are starting to color and outfit coordinate, and it feels very gay.

I don't know what to do with these two.

I'm pretty sure I'm just not seeing pink on Pete, which means he has connections to the red, and Way refuses to stay blue, so I'm sure he is still planning some corrupt red nonsense.

JUST BE BLUE! Just be in love with each other. Accept his love, Waymond!

I never thought I'd write this, but be like Jeffrey, Waymond. Turn blue. Commit to the blue. Fall in love!

Look at him! No matter what connection he has to the red, he is beating the allegations. Peter is a GOOD MAN! If Waymond doesn't fall in love with him, somebody else will. Guaranteed.

Not going to read too much into that red stripe at the top of the room, but this is a red's room. Is this Kimberly's?! Why is there so much blood?!

When you take people's superpowers, yet have no idea how to use the superpowers. Apparently, Babe without superpowers is still better than everyone else. At least Charles is no longer a lying blue.

I think Big Red knows something is different with Babe, and even though Jeffrey still has that damn red bag . . . IS THAT WAYMOND?! No, Waymond, no! Do NOT work with Big Red. You have Peter RIGHT THERE! Quit your bullshit, Waymond!

WTF, Kentana?! If I have to pick between you two, I pick Peter. No contest. Kimberly, Peter, and Alan above everyone else. Kentana, you better stop it! You are still on my shit list!

Hold up! Do you two know each other? Like biblically? What is this tension? What are these looks? Why does this feel very personal? I ain't mad at it, but Kentana still needs to save Kimberly!

Jeffrey, why would you go there in that red and blue flannel shirt?! That won't save you, buddy!

Kentana, the ONLY thing that will redeem you is saving Kimberly. I didn't like Jeffrey, but now he is matching with Alan, so they are in love, and you can't break Alan's heart! You are just fucking up left and right today, and I hope you get punched in the throat before this episode is over.

KIMBERLY IS DYING! And y'all are about to have sex in the blue after tending wounds which is pointless because you have superpowers that will heal you!!!!!! Y'all continue to amaze me by the lack of priorities. Save Kim Possible!

Why is this shot in the mirror? Why is there a barrier between you two? This is odd. More lies?

Who takes a shot like that?! A KILLER! Barbara, get it together! This isn't an episode of Dead Friend Forever, and you are no longer a red.

Everything about this scene is ridiculous. Charles in blue. SONIC in blue. North and Waymond in black. AND EVERYONE IS DRINKING RED SODA! This not looking good for the blues. Whatever they are talking about, the reds already won.

Barbara continues to be touchy-feely with Waymond. Why can't he just let Waymond brood in peace? Barbara knows Waymond loves him, yet gives Waymond no space. Go tend to your boyfriend's fake injuries, Barbara! Waymond is working with Big Red and not falling in love with Peter, yet you have me feeling bad for him, Barbara. I should hate Waymond! BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE YOU WON'T LEAVE HIM BE!

These two have to be sleeping together. Cooking Crush had the Chicken Bite product placement too and Prem and Ten definitely want each other in that show, so North and Sonic have to want each other too, yes? Yes. Now why are they watching Whiny Winifred while flirting IN THE BLUE?! They finally are both wearing blue at the same time. Thank, Baby Jesus.

I was worried seeing Waymond in the red doorway, but he has Charles and Barbara. But they aren't saving Kimberly. Why does nobody care about Kimberly?!

The kid is blue. Is he the insider informant? He is a child!

Why are there so many red kids in the world? Big Red, why do you need an army?! Overthrow your shitty kidnappers with your superpowers, kids! REVOLT! Sí se puede

KIMBERLY!

North and Sonic are going to save Kimberly! They are finally in the blue and saving my favorite red! I never doubted them!

WHAT THE FUCK?! THEY DIDN'T SAVE KIMBERLY?!

Southwest Airlines and Vegas' Hedgehog did NOT save Kimberly! Kentana watched as Kimberly got taken, then had the audacity to have chemistry with Peter. Jeffrey walked right into the reds like that was gonna save him instead of saving Kimberly! Whiny Winifred kicked Kimberly. Waymond is working with Big Red and not saving Kimberly. Charles and Barbara CANNOT prioritize and are talking to a blue kid and giggling at each other instead of rescuing Kimberly.

AND BARBARA IS FIGHTING PETER NEXT WEEK!

These men need to get their shit together! The ONLY things that needed to happened this episode were 1) SAVE KIMBERLY and 2) ACCEPT PETER'S LOVE! Neither happened. Honestly, Kentana and Waymond could die and leave Kimberly and Peter to be the power couple of Alan's company. They both wear too much black, and unlike Barbara, they aren't the title character, so either commit to the blue Waymond or Kentana, or else I'm gonna start thinking y'all are disposable.

#SAVE KIMBERLY #pit babe #pit babe the series #the colors mean things #and they will guide me the whole way through #color coded boys in love #episode 8 #I'm so upset #all I care about right now is Kimberly!#SAVE HIM!#And quit fighting Peter‚ Barbara!

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nyxronomicon · 8 months

Text

chapter i: the third floor

toji x reader (she/her. tits & vagina)

cw: child neglect, fuckboy Toji, gambling, alcohol, no curses au, found family, DILF Toji, Toji is motivated by sex.

masterlist

"Need help?" A muscular man approached you as you moved in to your new apartment. It wasn't the nicest building, but it was a desperately needed change. You were new to the city, new to your job, and the friendliness of this stranger was very much appreciated- especially since it looked like he could carry a lot more than you.

"Sure," you smiled, "thank you."

"Toji Fushiguro ." The man stuck his hand out, and you took it in a handshake. You could feel his rough callouses and the warmth radiating under his skin. You introduced yourself before you each grabbed a box.

"You from around here?" He asked as you led him to your apartment.

"Not really." You hit the button of the rickety elevator. It dinged as the door opened. "I'm from a small town. It's not really close."

"Moved here from far away, huh?" Toji watched as you pressed the number three on the elevator. That was his floor. "What brought you here, then?"

"I just needed a change, I guess." An escape was what you were calling it in your head. Your hometown had become suffocating, the expectations of your peers and family drowning you in depression. They kept asking when you'd get a better job. When you'd get married. When you'd have kids.

The elevator door opened on floor three with another ding.

"This is me." You said, walking down the hall to one of the corner units.

"Hey," Toji grinned as you let yourself in. "I'm right here." He nodded his head to the other corner unit.

"Nice to meet you then, neighbor." You turned around to flash him a smile.

Toji initially came to offer help because he thought you were hot and it would be convenient to have a fuck buddy in the same building. He wasn't expecting how easy it was to flirt with you, compliments coming as naturally as breathing.

"What a treat," he chuckled, "having someone as pretty as you for a neighbor." You set your box down and rubbed the back of your neck, feeling your nerves jitter at the compliment. You could say the same thing to him about having an attractive and helpful guy next door, but you didn't want him to get the wrong idea.

"You buttering me up or something?" Your laugh was a little nervous. You really didn't know how to handle a guy this flirty.

"Maybe I am," Toji smirked, walking out of your apartment to go get another box. "I'd be stupid not to make a pass at the cutest girl in the building."

Toji took every opportunity to admire you as he helped move the rest of your things into your new place. He kept flirting and was infuriatingly successful in flustering you several times. Finally, while moving the last of the boxes, you thought to yourself that it might be nice to have company for dinner. Or maybe you just wanted him to keep showering you with attention.

"Do you want to stay for dinner? Or a drink?" You offered.

"I'll have a drink." He was so casual, leaning against your empty kitchen counter like he lived there too. "Can't stay for dinner, though."

"Got a date or something?" You wanted to tease him a little, but you spoke without thinking. After his relentless flirting, it would be incredibly embarrassing if it turned out he did. Or worse, a wife waiting next door for him to return.

"Oh?" You watched a sly grin appear his face. "And why might you be interested in that?"

Butterflies invaded your stomach, and heat rushed to your cheeks. This time it was your own fault you got flustered. He slowly walked closer to you, making it harder to avoid his gaze. You didn't even have to answer now; it was crystal clear you were interested in him.

"Just making conversation." You finally brushed it off, rummaging in your boxes for your liquor and glassware. "Is whiskey ok?"

"On the rocks." He grinned. "And to answer your question, it is a date." Your heart dropped. You had to remind yourself that you didn't even know this guy. That he was a stranger.

"Oh." You avoided looking at him as you fished out the whiskey and carefully poured a little his glass, fetching a few ice cubes.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He chuckled. "Just a joke. I have some leftovers I have to finish tonight."

"You don't have a date." You gave him a cold stare, which just made him laugh more.

"I don't really go on dates." He shrugged. "Gotcha though." He winked, the smile lingering on his face while you handed him the glass of whiskey.

"You're going to be a problem, aren't you?" You couldn't help but smile and roll your eyes at his joke, although it was at your expense.

"If you see it that way." He took a sip of his whiskey.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You watched him carefully, trying to see if he would slip up like you did.

"I've been nothing but nice to you," he stepped closer, setting his drink on the counter. He was undoubtedly invading your personal space, and you noted how good his natural musk smelled. "Is that a problem?"

"Your flirting is the problem." Your subtle smirk betrayed your words.

"My flirting is a bonus." He corrected you, throwing back the rest of his whiskey. "And I plan to do it much, much more." He inched closer, and your heart skipped a beat. You searched for a response, but none came to mind. At least, not one you wanted to say to someone you just met.

Toji considered toying with you more, but seeing how you lived across the hall, he wasn't concerned about running into you again. He wanted to take it slow; it was more important for you to come to him next time. So, he stepped away from you with a grin. He had you right where he wanted you, anyway.

"Thanks for the whiskey." He smirked. "If you need any help around the house, let me know. I'm pretty good at fixing stuff." He turned to leave.

"Wait," you stopped him. "Thanks for helping me move. Is there anything I can do to repay you?"

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart." Toji leaned on the door frame, a cocky smile spreading on his face. "I can't ignore a damsel in distress."

You rolled your eyes. You should have guessed this guy would make one more pass at you. "I could have done it myself."

"I know." He backed out of the door. "But you don't need to with me here."

"Nice save." You chuckled.

"Seriously, if there's anything you need, just stop by." Something about Toji's smile was more genuine now, his soft gaze sparking those butterflies again.

"I'll keep that in mind."

A couple of weeks later...

Toji swung the door of his apartment open, an agitated look on his face. When he saw it was you waiting, his expression softened, but it was too late. His annoyance had already burned itself into your mind.

"Sorry to bother you." You rubbed the back of your neck, glancing warily at him. You'd waited a couple of weeks before you stopped by for Toji's help again, admittedly feeling lonely and making the request more for his company than anything.

You noticed the scar on his lip, and his intimidating build that made you think twice about dropping by unannounced again. It's not that you forgot what he looked like, you just didn't really notice a few things the first time you met. You figured his friendly approach when you moved in hid his rough edges.

"It's fine." You could almost see him turning on his charm, flashing you that flirty smile you were so familiar with. "What do you need, sweetheart?"

"I was hoping to hang some shelves, but I don't really know how." You dragged your eyes along his body, heart skipping a beat when you accidentally met his sultry gaze. He was watching you check him out.

"Say no more." He held a hand up. "I'll be right over. Just let me wrap something up."

"Of course," you smiled at him and went back to your apartment. "Just come in when you're ready."

He closed the door, quickly grabbing his toolbox and stopping in the living room, where the sound of children's shows softly played.

"Megumi," He payed little mind to the child in front of the TV. "I'm going to help the woman next door with something. I'll be back later."

Megumi glanced at the man indifferently. "Kay."

You were only waiting a few minutes before Toji barged into your apartment. "Honey, I'm home!" He proclaimed.

"Are we playing house now?" You stepped out of your bedroom to greet him.

"That depends." Toji put on a wide grin. "Does that make you my wife?"

"Don't make me kick you out." You sighed, although you were already feeling less lonely. "I really don't want to put these shelves up by myself..."

"C'mon, sweetheart." Toji casually strolled into your apartment with his toolkit, looking around at the decor. There were still boxes around, but it already felt more homey than his place. "Didn't you miss me?"

"I'd rather not admit that to you." The soft look in your eyes was more honest than you meant it to be.

"You don't have to." Toji chuckled. "You're making it pretty obvious."

"I don't have many friends yet. I'm a little lonely, that's all." You brushed off his teasing, leading him to the shelves in question. "Ok, I want these here." You gestured at the shelves on the floor, then the wall, effectively changing the subject.

"You got it, sweetheart." Toji opened his toolkit and started measuring the wall, penciling where he'd need to drill the holes.

"Can I get you anything?" Your gaze traced over his muscular back as he focused on the work.

"How about a glass of whiskey for when I'm done here?"

"Sure. On the rocks?" You asked, primarily to gawk at him a little longer.

"Memorized my order already?" Toji chuckled, turning his head to catch you staring at him. "Have you been thinking about me that much?"

"Please." You quickly turned away, shuffling into the kitchen to pour his drink. "Anyone can remember that."

"Stop playing hard to get." He drilled a hole in the wall between thoughts. "It'll save us both some time." He turned to you and smirked.

"I'm still getting used to it here." You took a bottle of wine out to pour yourself a glass. "I'm not interested in dating anybody right now."

"Who said anything about us dating?" Toji drilled another hole into the wall. You took a sip of your wine as he picked up the shelf off the floor and held it up. "I'm looking for something more casual myself."

You watched as he mounted the shelf. "I guess I could be open to that." The words fell from your lips with little thought, your loneliness and desire overwhelming the rational thought that you probably shouldn't sleep with him. If nothing else, you couldn't exactly bring someone else home with a man like Toji across the hall.

"No shit." Toji smirked, a hint of surprise in his tone.

"What, didn't expect that from me?" You chuckled, sipping your wine. "I can mess with you too, you know."

"So you didn't mean it?" He pouted.

"Of course not." You lied. You meant it. But you knew getting involved with a playboy like him would probably get you hurt. "You're my only friend here. I won't sacrifice that for a little sex." Shit. You didn't mean to say that, either.

"Not really what I was gunning for," Toji sighed. "But I love a challenge." He couldn't fathom how he was your only friend, but his pride swelled at the thought. "You don't know what you're missing out on."

"Tell me about how great you are in bed." You giggled, not quite done messing with him.

"Don't mind if I do." He laughed with you. As he described some of his favorite sex positions, he hung the second shelf. He used the sound of the drill to censor any particularly spicy language, enjoying the sound of your laughter as he finished up. Afterwards, he strolled over to you, picking up his glass of whiskey and taking a sip.

"Helps that I have a big dick." He chuckled, wrapping up his erotic description.

"Oh, fuck off." You giggled again as he sat next to you on your couch.

"I just thought you should know." He shrugged as his smile faded. There was a short but comfortable silence. You didn't feel so isolated anymore with Toji here keeping you company. You wondered if you should ask for his number or something and stop leaving your meetings up to chance.

"It's pretty comfortable in here." He looked around nonchalantly, then at you before he added, "maybe I'll come by more often."

"I'd like that." You genuinely smiled for the first time in what felt like a very long time.

It had only been a couple of months in the new apartment when a cabinet door fell off the hinges, nearly hitting your toe as it clattered to the ground.

"Shit..." You mumbled to yourself, Toji immediately jumping to your mind. Actually, it was hard to get him out of your mind. You didn't want to seem needy or clingy, so you hadn't talked to him much since he helped you put up the shelves. Not to mention that the sexual tension was nearly unbearable when he was around.

You still didn't have many friends, finding it difficult to get your coworkers to hang out. Even though you only ran into him occasionally, Toji was still one of the few people you could call a friend in the city so far.

So here you stood, regretting not asking for his phone number earlier as you knocked on his apartment door with your nerves going wild.

You were waiting a while, feeling your pulse quicken when you knocked again. Finally, the door opened a crack and there was a child where you expected Toji to be, his gaze piercing into your soul.

"Hello." You put on a smile. If the kid didn't look exactly like your neighbor, you would have wondered if someone else moved in. "Is, um, Toji here?"

He just looked at you, completely emotionless. "No."

"Are you... alone here?"

"Dad says I can be home alone if I'm good." He had such an intense glare for a kid.

"Toji's your dad?" You wondered how this detail slipped through the cracks. Well, with how flirty Toji was, the answer was clear. He didn't tell you because he didn't want you to know. It just made you wonder what else he was keeping from you.

"Yeah." The kid stepped back a little, pushing the door closed a bit before adding. "I should go. I'll tell him you came." Before you could say anything, you heard the latch on the door click.

You frowned, questions swirling in your mind that you couldn't get an answer to without him there. You took a deep breath, knocking on the door again. Above all, you were worried about such a young kid home alone.

The door cracked open again. "Dad says not to talk to strangers." Despite his words, the kid didn't close the door.

"Are you lonely? Do you want me to come play with you?" The child's eyes widened for a moment before he looked down.

"No." He replied. "You should go home." He still lingered, his piercing gaze on you.

"I just live across the hall here if you need anything, ok?" You pointed at your door, then told him your name. He seemed to recognize the door across the hall. Maybe Toji told him about you.

"Ok." The kid stepped back. "I'll tell dad you came." He closed the door again.

You didn't hear from Toji all night. It wasn't really about your cabinets anymore- his kid was just staying home alone? Your thoughts wandered to next door more than you'd care to admit, and you berated yourself even more for not getting Toji's number last time you saw him.

While you were making coffee the next morning, you heard a knock on the door. You walked over and looked through the peephole to the man who occupied your thoughts for the better part of last night. You let him in with a smile, but you really didn't know what to say.

"Sorry about last night. You talked to Megumi?" Toji rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah, your kid? How old is he?" you asked, walking to the kitchen as Toji followed. You really wanted to ask him why the kid was home alone, or why he seemed so apathetic, or who the mother was, but you couldn't bring yourself to press him about it.

"He's five." Toji watched as you grabbed a couple of coffee mugs from a cupboard that was missing a door. "Is that why you stopped by?" He added, pointing it out.

"You guessed it." You chuckled. "Coffee?"

"Sure." His tone was off. He wasn't flirting like usual. "So, listen, I didn't mean for you to meet Megumi like that." He watched as you prepared the coffee. "Childcare is expensive, and I can't really afford regular care for him with my job. He's a good kid, though. He's never had any issues with it."

"What if something happens? Aren't you worried?" The coffee maker started gurgling. The aroma of the beans filled the room as the water started trickling into the urn.

"He'll be fine. Practically takes care of himself." Toji assured you. "Really. Just forget about him."

"He's five." You furrowed your brow. "He's too young to be left alone like that."

"A single dad like me doesn't have a lot of options." Toji bit back the annoyance that was bubbling in his mind. What did you know about what it was like raising a kid? He knew he wasn't exactly knocking it out of the park, but the kid never complained about his parenting style. "Unless you're offering to watch him." He chuckled, assuming you'd say no. It's not like the kid was your responsibility.

"It could be a good way for me to repay you." You responded, too genuinely for his taste. "You know, for helping me out so much." You grinned.

Toji thought he had you. He thought you'd drop it. It wasn't your problem. He didn't expect you to offer to take care of the kid. He didn't even want you to know about Megumi. The kid always complicated his relationships, which is why he kept it from you. He just wanted you to be his fuck buddy. Now he'd be a single father to you. You'd be a witness to how he raised his kid, and if he did a bad job, you'd hate him for it. Or worse, if he did a good job, you'd probably start thinking about him fathering your kids, too. This conversation was going much, much worse than he expected.

"Who's playing house now?" Toji smirked, ignoring his spiraling thoughts as he leaned on your counter. "You want to be my wife that bad , huh?"

The coffee maker beeped to signal it was done. You pulled the urn out of the machine to pour some in each of your mugs. "This is about Megumi. You can't just leave him alone like that. He's five."

Toji's smirk disappeared as you deflected his teasing. He was silent for a minute as he contemplated his options. If sex with you was still on the table, he'd be ruining his chances by declining your offer. His eyes drifted over your form, sexy as ever in your sleep shorts and an oversized t-shirt. God, he wanted to fuck you. He could deal with whatever fallout happens in a few months when you inevitably find out what a shitty guy he is.

Involuntarily, the image of coming home to you and Megumi popped into his head. You were both fallen asleep on his couch while some kids' movie played on his TV. His eyes widened almost unnoticeably, feeling a strange warmth at the idea. He pushed it out of his mind again, staring at your ass as you pulled some milk out of the fridge. His cock twitched, imagining bending you over that countertop and railing into you.

"Milk or sugar?" You asked, looking at him.

"Huh?" He wasn't listening.

"For your coffee." You nodded at the mugs.

"Oh. No thanks." Toji grabbed the mug, looking briefly at the steam rising from the dark liquid before putting on a cool smile. "You want to start tonight? I got a job."

"A job?" You tilted your head, preparing the coffee to your preference. You took a sip.

"Yeah, I work in security so I can have weird hours." He chuckled. That was his usual story.

"Sure. Yeah, of course." You beamed. God, you were cute. "What time should I come?"

"Six." Toji drank a sip of the coffee. It was still pretty hot. "Want me to fix that before I go?" He pointed at your cabinet.

"If you don't mind." You felt heat rush to your cheeks, remembering the other question you needed to ask. "And, uh, since I'll be babysitting, maybe I should get your number?"

Toji grinned. You knew he'd be annoying about this. "Such a crafty girl. Using my desperate situation to take advantage of me..." He feigned offense.

"You know what? Never mind." You rolled your eyes. "I think I'm better off without your number."

"Oh, don't say that." He chuckled. "You want to text me so bad, it's obvious." He smirked.

"So what's my tell?" You folded your arms. Toji had gotten up from the counter and moved towards the cabinet, pulling out the mini toolkit he brought with him.

"That's my secret."

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk toji #jjk x reader #x reader #the obligatory setting the scene chapter lol

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plentyoffandoms · 9 months

Note

Stalking f/reader and shower s$x with Hook

One Way or Another

Hook x f/Reader (18+)

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: Some swearing. Stalking. P in v sex. Spitting. Oral (m receiving).

I am sorry it has taken me so long. I had no idea what to write for this until now. This got a bit longer than I intended.

Gifs and photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @joesburrow

Main Masterlist ♡ Hook Masterlist

Summary: Hook becomes obsessed with his new neighbour.

Tyler - Hook

I knew someone moved in next door to me when I bypassed the moving truck and the movers, but I didn't stop to introduce myself as I was already running late to meet the guys for training.

I didn't stop and introduce myself when I saw the back of her head at the mall box in the front lobby as I was rushing out the door to catch the Uber that was taking me to the airport.

But I sure as hell heard her soft laugh and smelt her perfume that, for some strange reason, made me twitch in my sweat pants.

I forgot all about this new neighbour until I got home and finally saw her.

I was in the elevator, and the doors were about to close when I heard someone shout for me to hold the elevator.

I saw a woman running towards me, her arms filled with grocery bags. I knew it was her the moment she walked in the elevator, smiling at me and saying thank you.

"No problem. Which floor."

"No need. Already going to the same floor." She said kindly to me.

I knew I should have offered to help with her groceries, but I was having a problem of my own. I was reacting to her like I would if I was still a teenage boy.

If I wasn't hunched over and pulling my long sweater down, she would definitely be seeing the tent in my pants.

We finally reached our floor and I watched to see which unit was hers. Just two doors down from me.

I took my time opening my door, pretending to be distracted by my phone, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw her look over at me before she walked into her apartment.

◆

I made sure to bump into whenever I could. Through our little conversations, I learned her name, where she was from and where she worked.

Now I just need to know more about her, but there is only so much that I can ask in the elevator, but I had an idea.

I looked in my fridge and saw that I was low on juice. I knew she would be home, so I knocked on her door. I heard her call out, 'Just a minute.' Before the door swung open.

Her hair was in a messy bun, no makeup, and a long t-shirt I can only assume she wore to bed. I wonder if she has anything on underneath?

"Oh hey Tyler," fuck me, I love it when she says my name like that. "What's up?"

"Just wondering if you have any juice? I ran out, and I usually like some with breakfast. " Real smooth there dipshit.

"Yeah, let me see. Apple, okay?" I quickly nodded my head.

"Come in. Let me look in the pantry. I bought a bunch when they were on sale." She said as she turned around and walked down the hall.

I closed the door behind me and took in the sight of her apartment. Clean, pictures of family and friends all over. Some plants and on the table by the front door, I could see the spare key that they give to us when we move in.

"Here you go." I was pulled away from my thoughts on if I should take the key or not when she answered it for me.

"Do you mind being my apartment buddy? I know you travel a lot for work, and I can grab your mail and place it in your apartment." She handed me her spare key, and I closed my fist tightly around it, not wanting to lose it.

"Sure. I'll grab my spare and give it to you. Thank you."

◆

The weeks went on, and I found myself using her spare key more than any sane person ever would need too.

First, I was just snooping around her apartment to get to know her a bit better. Then her garbage. Which quickly went to me looking through her drawers.

I found her dildo that she kept in her bedside table. I could only imagine what she looked like as she made herself cum on this.

Which was driving me insane. So I looked online and found the perfect camera, which I gave to her.

"Suprise. You told me that your charging station wasn't charging as fast, so I got you one."

"Thank you, Tyler. I've been meaning to go and buy another one, but just haven't had time."

"No need for thanks. I was out with my friends and saw this. Hope it works."

I waited patiently in my place, looking at my laptop.

And I waited. I was just about to close the laptop when it showed the inside of her room.

Where she had, next to her bed, I could see everything. I turned up the volume to see if the sound was working, and I punched the air when I heard her talking on the phone.

"I have no idea what to wear tonight, Dede."

"Just wear something that is easy to take off. You know you won't be keeping your clothes on." Was all I heard before I saw red.

She had a date?

Why didn't she tell me?

What the fuck does he look like?

Is she gonna fuck him?

I found out the answer to the last question as I watched her ride the lucky bastard in her bed. Her back arched, her eyes closed as her body shook as she came all over his cock.

I was breathing heavy as I closed the laptop, not wanting to watch her wrap her lips around his cock.

I looked down my body and saw the mess that I had made. I even felt a bit of my own jizz on chin. Time for a shower.

◆

While I was in my shower, a great, wonderful idea popped into my head. Now, just to make it all come together.

This idea took a bit to pill together. I had to travel for a few weeks, and then I would have some time off.

While I was gone, I would watch the cameras I already had up in my place, and see her come into my place to drop off my mail or water my plants.

But I made sure to keep watching the camera in her room. The man from that night never came back, but other men came.

I watched as each and every man pounded her into her mattress, making her moan their names. Some made her cum. Some didn't.

But one buffoon helped push her towards me without either one knowing.

I could hear her asking him to leave, and he didn't want to. "Come on, baby. Just one more time, and then I will leave."

"I don't have time for this. Leave. I have work."

"I'll stay until you get back."

"If you are not gone in the next 5 minutes, I'll be calling the cops."

The asshole didn't like that and locked himself in her washroom. By the time the cops came, he had already smashed it and was in no way usable.

I felt my phone vibrate, and I knew it was her calling. "Tyler?" Her voice was shaken for obvious reason.

"Are you okay? You sound upset." I asked with fake concern. She told me what happened.

"Just stay in my place until your place is fixed."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I am sure. Just pack your essentials. My home is your home."

"When you get back, I will cook you your favourite meal."

"And I can't wait."

◆

I watched as she moved in. I told her to take make herself comfortable. What I meant by the was I hope she plays with herself on my bed.

But she never did.

She never brought anyone back to my place and she was home every night like clockwork, so she wasn't going to someone's home.

She must be getting off in the shower. The poor thing must be frustrated. Well, that is all going to change when I get home.

◆

I was opening my front door, calling out her name. "You here? I got on an earlier flight." No noise. But that is due to being in the shower.

I played it off like she wasn't home as I went to my bedroom. I could hear the shower on in there.

I got undressed and grabbed a towel, and placed it over my shoulder. The scream she let out when she saw me standing there naked, almost brought a smirk to my face.

"Tyler?!"

I placed my towel around my waist but I saw her look down and her eyes were wide at the size of me.

"Shit. I got on an earlier flight. I thought you were out." I played it off as I turned away. I heard the shower turn off, and the shower door open.

"I am done anyways. Welcome home." She said to me as she walked past me. She gave me a kiss on the cheek as she closed the door behind her.

I saw that my shower head wasn't in its spot, but hanging down and the nozzle head setting has changed to pulsating. Well fuck me, so this is how she is getting off.

◆

That night, she made a wonderful homecooked meal, and we talked about anything.

"Now that you are home, I can sleep on the couch."

"Nonsense," I said. "My bed is big enough for the both of us."

"Only if you are sure."

"I am more than sure."

The first night we slept, it was fine. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt but I wanted to see more skin.

So, a few days later, I turned off my AC.

"Why is it so hot in here?" She was waving a hand in front of her face.

"AC is broken. Got someone coming in tomorrow." I said to her. I could see her looking me up and down. I was only in a pair of boxers, while she was in shorts and a t-shirt once more.

But I needed to see more skin. As the day went on, it was getting warmer and even I started to become irritable.

"I am gonna go take a cold shower." I told her, not able to take the heat anymore.

"Don't be surprised if I join you. That sounds wonderful." I knew she was joking, but I let her know that it was fine.

"Look, we are two grown adults. If you can't take the heat anymore. Join me in the shower." Was all I said as I headed down my washroom.

I was barely under the cool water, and she was already knocking on the door to come in. "Just so you know, I am naked." I called out.

The door swung open, and she was standing in her towel. "I don't care. I can't take the heat anymore. Move aside Tyler." And dropped her towel, and I did as she asked and stepped aside for her to get under the water.

The two of us were silent. I was looking her up and down, and she was trying not to look at me.

I couldn't help myself. I stepped closer and looked back as she felt how close I was. "Tyler," She softly said.

"Shh, it is okay." I placed my hands on her shoulders and started to massage her. She tensed up but then relaxed.

"Mmm, you have strong hands."

"They feel good?" A groan was my answer, which went straight to cock. I took another step forward, and she let out a soft gasp as she felt my hard cock poking her ass.

"Tyler, what are you doing?" She went to turn around to face me, but I held her in place. "Just trying to help you relax. I know you are frustrated with your washroom and now the AC."

I didn't let her know that I knew that her washroom was fixed and has been for a few days now.

"Besides, you will be going back to your place soon and I have to leave for England." I dropped my arms to my side and she turned around.

"I leave in two days' time, and by the time I am gone, you will be back in your place." I pulled her flush against my body. She placed her hands on my chest, but she didn't push me away. The cool water was cascading down our bodies.

I placed my head next to hers and nipped her ear before saying, "And you will go straight back to bringing random men home when I have been here along."

She gasped and pulled away, asking how I knew. "I am up early. You know I run every morning. I see them leaving your place."

"Oh." Then she got angry. "Is that why you are being so nice to me? So I will sleep with you?"

Yes. "No, of course not. I just know how frustrated you have been, and I am offering my body to you."

She scoffed and went to leave the shower, so I had to pull out the big guns. "I know your place has been fixed for a few days, yet you stay with me." That had her stopping in her tracks.

"How did you know?" She asked me as turned to look at me.

"The super told me. She said she had already told you."

"I just didn't want to be alone."

Silence.

"Look, I know you have been frustrated, and I have been too. Now, why don't we help each other out, and we can go back to being friends." I layed the offer on the table.

I waited for her to speak, but she didn't say a word as she got on her knees and gripped my cock at the base and started to jerk me off as she took me slowly into her mouth.

I placed my hands on the back of her head and took over. She gagged when the tip hit the back of her throat, but she worked through it until she had me completely down her throat.

"Oh fuck. Look at me gorgeous." My heated gaze connected with her teary eyes. "I am gonna fuck this throat, then your pussy and you are not gonna touch yourself. When you come, I want you to come all over my cock."

I gripped the side of her head and started to rock back and forth, barely pulling out of her sweet mouth.

The gagging and chocking noises had me right on the edge, and I had to pull out a few times to stop myself from finishing before I even get to fuck her.

She was gasping between each little break I gave her, but she took each thrust like a champ.

"Eyes on me." I growled out each and every time she went to close her eyes. I fucked her throat a bit harder than I intended and I knew it would be sore after, but that just made it so much hotter.

It was time to fuck her. I pulled out of her mouth and she gripped her throat as she gasped for air once more.

I helped her up and placed one of her legs around my waist as she gripped my shoulders.

I reached down between our bodies and gripped my cock and rubbed it against her pussy. Her eyes threatened the flutter close and they finally did when I slid inside of her.

My own eyes closed as I felt how warm and tight she was. "Fuck, your so fucking tight." My mouth was hanging open, trying to calm myself down before I make a fool of myself and finish before I really got a chance to fuck her.

"Tyler." She squealed when I started moving. I would pull out just enough to leave the tip in and then slam into her. She was biting her lip so hard that it was bleeding.

My pace quickened, and I couldn't hold back anymore, but this was becoming dangerous, but I had one thing I wanted to do before I switched positions.

I wrapped my hand around her throat. "Open." She shook her head no, so I squeezed a bit tighter. "I said open."

She opened her mouth, and I spit and then slammed my mouth against hers in a sloppy, messy kiss.

I pulled out of her, and to my delight, she whimpered. I sat down on the shower floor and patted my lap.

I gripped my cock once more as I helped her to sit on me. I bit my own lip when she sat down and took me even deeper.

"You feel like you are in my stomach." She groaned as she started to bounce on my lap.

"Fuck that is hot. Come on, gorgeous, ride me faster." I slapped her ass and she squealed, but she started to move faster.

I was close, and I knew she was to with her pussy was squeezing me, so I wrapped my arm around her waist, pulled her down against my chest and started to to thrust up into her.

My other hand went to her ass and slapped it a few times. I removed my arm from her waist, but she didn't move, and put my other hand on her other ass cheek and spread them.

"Gonna fuck your ass next." I said to her as I pushed two fingers inside her tight hole.

"Tyler!" Her back arched, just like I have seen it do so many times, and her pussy started to spasm around my cock.

She got so tight that I could hardly move. With a groan of her name, I came deep inside of her. Her body shook from the aftermath of what we just did.

"Next time?" She finally asked.

"Oh yeah. Maybe come in your mouth first, then your ass. Maybe take some photos for when I travel." She slapped my chest at that suggestion.

But as I was sitting on the plane to England, I couldn't help but think about all those photos and videos I took of us.

Her looking up at me, mouth wide open and filled with my cum, then her swallowing and showing me that it was gone.

Me sliding into her ass for the first time. The cum leaking out of her ass.

Maybe one day I will tell her that I placed cameras all over her apartment or a tracker on her car, but maybe not.

Tag List: If you would like to be added, please let me know. @lghockey @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @crowleysqueenofhell @nicoleveno14 @1rsolideranna @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekittycat @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla @faerieofthenightcourt @hooks-martin

#aew #all elite wrestling #aew smut #all elite wrestling smut #reader imagine #female reader #reader insert #hook x reader #hook aew #hook smut #hook x female reader smut #hook imagine #hook x female reader #tyler senerchia #hook fic

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chemicallady · 8 months

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I LOVE YOU TO DEATH BUT I'M DROWING

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem Reader

Content Warning: talking about sex; bondage, possible heartbreak.

Summary: getting closer to Noah is like trying to give a quick look into an abyss; it's impossible not to fall down with all your certains.

And in the end, a firm decision must be make.

Taglist: @lilhobgobbler ; @aprosiacperson

A/N: no smut in this one, sorry for that but this is the last introduction chapter, I promise. I need to do more research on /the topic/ you will find out reading but I promise you this is the last slow chapter. From next one on, we all will be on fire 🔥

Thanks to all the kind souls who are reading my story. As usual, I don't know Noah, this is fictional and I respectfully don't want to offende anyone.

Maybe for someone, reader and noah could look a bit weird in comparison with many other ff; I love realism so those dialogues sounds 'possibile' in my head. As long as the situations.

Enjoy!

《 I was fantasising on binding you.》

Day off are so weird, sometimes. Becca and Mandy, the other two merch girls, bonded pretty quick and you feel a bit left behind when you woke up in the room you share with them and they weren't anywhere to be found. You can understand why they decided to spend their day off without you, to be honest. You all are I'm New York and due to the Blue Ridge Festival being last minute canceled, the entire crew gained two days off in the Big Apple. You're relieved from some aspects because that festival is HUGE and you don't like the idea of so many fans asking for t-shirt and ski mask for hours and hours under the sun. At the same time, you regret a little how you declined Steve invitation to organise a cozy dinner in his room with him, Mandy, Becca and Chris.

The reason of this decline is all Noah's fault.

Entirely.

《 Why are you looking at me like that?》

《 I was just thinking...》

《 C'mon. Spill the tea. I believe we have enough intimacy at this rate》.

Some kind of weird silence filled the elevator making the air heavy. Good job, y/n. You were able to create even more tensions between the two of you. More than then, this sarcasm is not helping. There is not such a thing as intimacy between the two of you.

Being fucked due to an excess of stamina before a gig is not like having a long walk in the nature, hands in hands.

It's rough and primal. Exciting but somehow dry. Emotionally dry, of course, because you feel nothing but wetness rethinking about all your encounters.

Noah is not answering and neither looking at you, and you have almost reached his floor. You take a long breath before speaking again. 《 I know I'm crossing some boundaries, but it's weird. We had some best buddies moments and them because I kissed you once, you stop talking to me and started to act pretty directly. 》

It's so frustrating being an extrovert who is trying to explain is feelings to an introvert who is actually not replying at all.

《 I mean, I really enjoy the fun time you give me, but it's not like I've pictured us.》

Oh that was too much. Why did you say that???

《 and I didn't actually pictured us. It was more like a chill situationship in my head because you gave me some vibes but-》

《 God dammit I was just fantasizing on binding you. That's it, y/n.》

The elevators doors open but you prevented him to escape the situation. 《 alright this is even weirder》, is you reply while you push the bottom to close the door again. And then the one to go back to the main hall. Your are not a shy person, at least not now. Not with the guy who apparently loves to fuck the shit out of you in front of a mirror. He blushes, try to say something else but you are too confuse to let him explain 《binding me to what?》

The doors opens again in front of Matt. He looks at you surprised but before even say a word, Noah pushes the bottom to close the door. Like you have just done. And again to floor nine. 《 to nothing》 his is answer. He is in distress, like is really hard for him to provide you a decent explanation. 《 just... tide you up. Your body is so beautiful and I'd love to .... tide you up. But you are right, it's weird.》

You can feel a certain amount of disappointment in his voice and even if you don't really trust him that much or know him enough to get the exact meaning of this, you can't help yourself but touching his arm in reinsurance. His eyes meet yours and you just get a bit closer.

You're not an idiot, this guy is buff and could easily tak advantage on you, but you have seen something trustworth in him; he has such a gentle soul hidden behind an armor used to denied his very own feelings. Even if he is avoiding you, he is still gentle when you two meet around. Maybe, you overthinked for days, he is just as uncomfortable as you are with your rendezvous with zero talking in between.

《 I don't understand what you mean, that's why it's weird》 , you tell him. 《 I don't think you are weird. Well, maybe a bit, but mostly I think you're hot》 , you continue making him blush again. Noah chuckles a little laught while the elevation door get open for the second time on his floor. 《 Its a weird catch up phrase, Noah-idiot. Asking a girl to be tied up.》

《 You are not wrong》 he replies, amused by the way you're making him confortable with jokes, before putting an hand to stop the doors from closing again. 《 But... I can show you what I mean, if you want.》

《 Now?》

《 if you don't have any plans for dinner...》

《... Show me the way, tho 》.

You know that Steve and Chris really didn't care that you decided to not show up for dinner, but the girls are pissed. Anyway no one bought the excuse that you felt suddenly so tired to attend the gathering. That's why you woke up alone in the room. Looking back at your night conversation, you can't really feel sorry for missing it. But it also has a bitter taste from some point of views. You hate to be the one who has to take decisions.

But Noah is turning your world upside down.

You've never felt that way.

He makes you feel like someone else is wearing your skin. His eyes are trustful and when he feels enough secure of himself - weird how someone that pretty can he shy and with a low selfsteem- he turns into this primal, feral seducer. You can't get enough of him. His mouth on your body, the grip of his hands, firm but somehow armonic.

It looks like he have studied how to be a beast in bed. And after yesterday, you only got solid evidence of this suspicious.

You have never heard about Shibari before. Your have always pictured bondage as a strainge kink, connected with pain and humiliation and you're not the kind of person who likes to be humiliated at all. But Noah is pretty clear about what he actually wants.

《 Shibari is a matter of aesthetics》, he tells you why showing pictures of naked women tied up with beautiful knots and intricate ropes combinations. 《 Its not even connected directly with sex. The schemes of the ropes are related with specific body points; every knots has a deep simbolic meaning. My intention is not to control you or humiliate you, but just having some visual pleasure of your pretty body.》

You rise your eyes, trying to meeting his, but he looks a but insecure. Like is costing so much to him to expose himself. 《 If its not sex, what I get in return?》. You decide to ask first, trying to not sound greedy. On the contrary. It's quite interesting.

《 pleasure. I'll take care of you. My intentions are aesthetical but I'm still a guy.》 It's sounds so wrong seeing such a shy guy talking about this stuff and them imagining him doing such intricate knot on your body. You can't help but feel you're getting wet already and that a shame. Every inch of feminish is taken away from you in the moment you can spend some time with Noah.

《 This have something to do with the fact that you don't want to kiss me anymore?》

Another important question and Noah can't avoid but oblige you an answer. 《 No》

The dryness in this simple one word make you sigh in frustration. You look at one last photo before handing his phone back again to the boy seated next to you.《 Did you take all of this pictures?》

《 Yes.》

《Have you made sex with all these girls》

《 I usually don't make sex with a girl who likes this kind of things. I can go to a dive bar and meet someone for that. To me, this is work of art. It's helping me through a lot of stress the tour is giving me. You are an exception because you kissed me and I lost my balance.... but I believe I need to get it back》

The oddly sound of a silent hotel room followed his last sentence. 《... if I agree with all of this, with the ropes and knots, we stop to have fun before the concerts?》

Noah let himself fall on the mattres, lost in his thoughts. You can tell he doesn't no for sure. 《 Maybe. I can't tell you for sure. But the choice is up on you; I want force you anyway. 》

Since the moment you have left his room, you can't stop thinking about him. About how intrigued you feel in letting him doing whatsoever he wants with your body. More than that, everything you have will be just a dream in the moment the tour will be over.

You have in front of you one last month with Noah and the chance to experiment something new.

But do you really want to be part of his photo collection and be remembered just as another chick he tied up?

It's not so easy to pick up a decision.

Especially because you like him, a lot. And losing him will be painful anyway.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian x reader

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liyazaki · 2 years

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I know, I know- I went right for the jugular with that title. at first glance, this might look like a KinnPorsche finale hit piece...an "oh, y'all thought this was a HEA?" before I throw a bucket of gore all over your warm fuzzies, Carrie-style.

in reality? this is a long-form love letter to perhaps the most meticulously-constructed show I've seen in years- Asian, Western, European, etc., et. al. period, fin, full stop.

if there's an idea that KinnPorsche has driven home over and over again, it's that more than one thing can be true at once. that idea has never been more overt than in the finale.

something can be immensely satisfying, hella romantic, quietly appalling, empowering, and like a waking nightmare- all at once. for me, the finale was every one of these things- just maybe not for the reasons you'd expect. in summary: have a little faith before reaching for the pitchforks (thanks in advance).

but first: a little history, a little fandom

some background before we jump into the, as @dancinbutterfly likes to say, "it's about the DRAMATURGY"- of it all. I've been going into every piece of media for years now with as close to the inverse of expectations as you can get, because she has been burned and then some. I've been in fandom of all sorts for many, many moons. perpetual disappointment followed by headcannoning fixes are old friends, and I know them well.

I dumbed this show down before it even began, at no fault of the story or crew or anything else. eliminating my expectations before the word 'go' is just something that happens automatically. if you had told me pre-KP that a quasi-porn-with-feels, Thai-BL-meets-the-mafia show would shock me out of my media coma, I would've just giggled and said "sure, Jan".

that's exactly what happened, though: week after week, this show gave and gave and gave some more. unapologetic queer horniness on full display? here; take it. you want a light, joyful relationship in contrast to perhaps the most intoxicatingly-toxic one you've ever seen? sure, we got that too. how about fascinating moral quandaries and a dark, twisty thread of mystery running throughout? we got you covered and then some.

and oof, that mystery. the possibilities, the implications? the personal ramifications for these characters we were falling in love with? crumbs were suddenly being dropped from a table I forgot could have so much food on it, and I grabbed onto as many morsels as I could get my greedy little hands on.

we all did: the sheer amount of god-tier analysis and meta this fandom created is a testament to that. this show awoke something in our brains that made the collective talent shine brighter than I've seen in a fandom in a long while (Bad Buddy is a close second).

and then- the Finale™

but the real pièce de résistance here: the part of this horny, batshit beauty of a story that puts this show front and center in my mental hall of fame? that finale. pardon the crassness, but it's very much warranted here: that FUCKING FINALE. it was more than the sum of its parts, while simultaneously being the EXACT sum in a whispering, "are-you-paying-attention?" kind of way.

it confirmed little red flags I didn't even trust I was really seeing, which, sure- that's just good writing, solid storytelling. but then it said "nah- we're not done", and stuck the landing so intelligently, it elevated the rest of the story past my wildest expectations. thanks to the finale, I know that my rewatches (yeah, it'll be plural- move along) will be a perpetual mind-fuck affectionate.

it set up us for a likely-explosive second season, with as much potential for greatness as there is for Shakespearean levels of tragedy. without that 81-minute magnum opus, I doubt I would’ve been compelled to write this monster in the first place.

so let's get into the impact of the finale by taking a closer look at the most important players- starting with our sex-on-a-stick (I had to), second-in-command himself.

without further ado: you ready for a deep dive?

kiss me so that I forget myself. I close my eyes & fall in the abyss. -Kamand Kojouri

the title for this meta- Tragedy Dressed Like a Daydream- was inspired by Porsche's iconic walk down the hallway, cementing his new status as he symbolically ascends his throne.

my first thought during this scene- besides the obvious serve-CUNT-king- was, "that's a man who's walking to the gallows- he just doesn't know it yet."

Porsche also embodied raw, effortless power in this moment- but it carried even more weight than just that. this was an easy, almost-royal kind of stride- like he was born to it.

from Porsche's unforgettable presentation to the visual callbacks (more on that in a minute), this is the definition of a full circle moment. it felt less like the victorious kind and more of the snake-eating-its-tail variety, though. again, more on that analogy later.

my doom-and-gloom reaction to this scene has nothing to do with the fact that Porsche is not only staying in the Family, but rising to the top of its ranks. this is a mafia tale: I signed up for bullets, bloodshed, moral ambiguity and as much be-gay-do-more-crime as possible.

once I started to drill down into what exactly about this moment made me feel so unsettled, the reasons turned out to be much more nuanced.

a couple interesting details about this scene before we get into the nitty-gritty: we've seen this kind of oozes-power walk before. it's what I opened my Kinn character analysis with:

Kinn carries himself with the relaxed ease of an heir born to inherit a throne, and the singular, brutal focus required to keep it.

this is how Kinn walks into every room he enters- when anyone besides the people he's closest to are present, anyway.

there's so much I want to say here about the choice to film Kinn from behind versus Porsche head-on, the framing, etc., but I promised myself I wouldn't get too far into the weeds in this meta.

one more tidbit I noticed in this scene: Porsche never blinks- not once. a neat little trick I learned in Psych 101: blinking less communicates ease, confidence, lack of anxiety; while frequent blinking says "I'm afraid/nervous/lying." if you want someone to see you as more confident than you might feel, look them straight in the eye- or straight ahead and past them, like Porsche is here- and blink less. I doubt this was intentional, but it adds (subconsciously) to the powerful aura radiating off of Porsche.

when you know what a man wants, you know who he is- and how to move him. -George R.R. Martin

belief can be manipulated. only knowledge is dangerous. -Frank Herbert

the triumphant veneer on Porsche's ascension starts to crack as soon as we ask, "how did he get here?" the answer- the rot at the root, discreetly leeching off all the life it touches- is Korn.

we're well-aware that Korn is a master manipulator. he knows his sons' strengths and weaknesses like the back of his hand.

what really makes Korn a force to be reckoned with is his patience. he's been using his knowledge of how to utilize his sons- like the tools I believe he sees them to be- for a very, very long time.

it took years-worth of quiet, methodical consistency to orchestrate the events we arrive to in the finale- and to best mold his sons to carry out his purposes. we've also been getting hints at this the entire time- some of which weren't made clear until the very last moments of the finale.

galaxy-brained @dancinbutterfly caught a god-tier hint at just how deep Korn's machinations go, and it happened in episode ONE- yet it's impact in the finale is enormous. if you aren't convinced that Korn has been planning on using Porsche from the start, you're gonna want to hold DB's/my beer for this one. I'm going to be giving the CliffNotes version, but you can read DB's epic finale analysis here.

the last scene in the finale- with Kinn and Porsche declaring their commitment to each other on the boat- is a callback to episode 1 already, bringing us back to where Porsche jumped off the deck. after Porsche escaped, we cut to Kinn and Korn in conversation. I'll quote DB directly here:

Kinn is asked why he didn't procure Porsche- and we see Korn playing chess. he's playing as white, and white always goes first. Korn always has the information needed to make the first move. he takes the queen [Porsche]- and he uses it to get checkmate.

back to the finale: right after Kinn and Porsche's final hug on the boat, we cut over to Korn. he's sitting at a desk with two betta fish in front of him (my theory on that in a minute). Korn stops to look at his phone, smiling at the picture of Kinn and Porsche that Tankhun just sent him.

Korn's expression is that of a warm, loving father, by all appearances happy to see his son happy- but it kind of just made my stomach roll. and then, we reach the line that takes us all the way back to Korn's first game of chess, right after the other boat scene when he won the game using the queen:

"history is only written by the victors."

not to lapse into tag speak in the middle of a semi-serious meta, but are you crying screaming throwing up yet? someone throw me a thesaurus because "chilling" doesn't cover the level of twisted we're witnessing here. the juxtaposition of these scenes in particular casts such a deep shadow over Kinn and Porsche's happy-for-now ending, it's impossible to ignore (again, all credit to DB for catching it).

Korn didn't just make Porsche's sudden meteoric rise happen- he orchestrated it all. this hint was just a standout one of many. I don't think Korn ever expected Kinn and Porsche to get romantically involved, but did he ever switch gears masterfully when they did.

there isn't a single event in the course of Kinn and Porsche's story that Korn didn't either 1) make happen himself or 2) expertly adapt and work to his advantage.

riddle me this: what could be better for Korn than having his ever-loyal but soft-at-heart son on the throne? let's dream even bigger: how about having his son's heart as his second? as smart as Porsche is, this isn't a world he's known for long- at all.

Porsche doesn't fully understand the rules or know the players- and he certainly doesn't have the benefit of experience required to see the bigger picture. Kinn's biggest weakness is now right out in the open, ready for Korn to exploit when and if needed.

for a man like Korn, what could be better than that?

back to the fish, and what could be our last hint the finale at Korn's next move. betta fish- or fighting fish- are known for their aggression towards other bettas. Korn has the fish in two bowls, separate but still in each other's line of vision- and able to antagonize the other.

before he looks at his phone, Korn is tapping on just one of the bowls, almost like he's deliberately trying to rile the fish up. he's also watching them very intently- and Korn is the most intentional character in this show.

the meaning here is wide open to interpretation, but this moment doesn't feel accidental- next to nothing in this show is. I don't see how pitting Kinn and Porsche against each other at this stage in the game would work to Korn's benefit- they're the most obvious explanation- but I'm calling it now: there's something there, and I have a nasty feeling that it's important.

so- Korn is pulling all the strings. Kinn and Porsche are in power in name only. they’re simply pieces on the gameboard and they always will be, as long as Korn is alive. they’re only there because Korn wants them to be.

Porsche and Porchay were only reunited with their mother because Korn made it so. I could write pages of meta on those scenes alone- the combination of intelligence and fear in her eyes, her catatonic-seeming (but were they really?) reactions, ad nauseum.

I'm not going to delve too deeply into the Namphueng plot here, but I have to mention that something about her reveal feels reactionary. the timing and suddenness of it feels more akin to thinking on your feet than it does to a long-game strategy. there has to be so much more happening here than we're aware of yet.

the main evidence of this for me: Korn left Namphueng essentially locked up in a tower for years. Korn is nothing if not brutally efficient. he could've used her just like he uses everyone else right out in the open. it would have been a million times more practical for him to go that route, but he didn't. that choice says something.

I don't know if I can buy into the idea that his only reason for pulling off this years-long kidnapping-in-plain-sight was just to time her reappearance in order to control Porsche (and Kinn by extension). we're missing a puzzle piece here- really, I feel like it's a lot of them.

which leads us to the million dollar question: what the hell does Korn know? how far down the rabbit hole does the history- and crimes- of this family go? Korn methodically knocked so many threatening pieces off the board, there's now history that ONLY KORN is privy to. let that sink in for a minute. if knowledge is power, Korn's is now near absolute.

Korn's inescapable influence takes what otherwise looks like a beautiful triumph- Kinn and Porsche, united, back where they started- and makes it look more like walking into an abyss.

when and if we get S2, I can guarantee that none of us are prepared for whatever Korn is planning next. like I mentioned in the beginning, the potential fallout for our players left on the gameboard is, in a word- catastrophic.

I'll wrap up this section with a chef's kiss quote from my beloved @elnotwoods:

I got so blinded by the metaphor and the symbolism [playing chess] that I overlooked the fact that the pieces on a chessboard only ever do what the player wants, because there are different ways to play, different moves and strategies- but it’s ultimately up to the person moving the pieces to decide.

so the story of man runs in a dreary circle, because he is not yet master of the earth that holds him. -Will Durant

there's also the issue of who Porsche is, and the question of if he did possess full autonomy here- i.e. if Korn wasn't making his moves for him from the shadows- would this be the choice he'd make? does it align with who he is- or, at least, with who he used to be?

because no one- outside of the people in the Family itself- have been more directly affected by the brutality that comes with the criminal underworld than Porsche and Porchay.

their parents: slaughtered in their home. debtors harassed and threatened them both for years, to the point that Porsche went to beg for mercy on his uncle's behalf. they had to feel like they were living in a semi-constant state of fear- likely with plenty of righteous anger and resentment mixed in, too.

so rather than just a cycle that repeats, we have a true tragedy here in the form of the metaphorical snake eating its tail. the Kittisawasd brothers' lives, loves, even their life's purpose (for Porsche, at least) are now inextricably linked to the cause of the greatest trauma they ever experienced. they're not just a part of the Family now- they sit its throne, either directly or by association.

love- especially the new, fresh, starry-eyed kind of love- has a way of blinding you. of bending you in ways you never thought you would, without either lashing out or getting out first.

is Porsche capable of thriving in this world? absolutely. will it require depths of compromise he can't even fathom yet? undoubtedly yes.

I also don't believe Porsche would have put Porchay within 1000 miles of everything Kinn's world brings if it weren't for love. the "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" argument could be made here- the enemy being the world of the Family, not Kinn himself- but it doesn't ring true for me.

plus, we have Porsche's own words to fall back on:

I'm not on the main family's side. I'm not on the minor family's side. I'm on your side.

Porsche is here for love and love alone. Kinn is here because he is ever-loyal...Porsche's love is a bonus. a life-changing, beautiful bonus- but just a bonus nonetheless.

I have to pause to address what Kinn did and said right before this moment. he doesn't know his father is alive, but Korn's influence- or maybe more accurately, Kinn's indoctrination- is still SO strong, Kinn pulls a gun on the man he loves at the mere possibility that Porsche MIGHT believe Korn was responsible for murdering his parents.

and do you believe him? if you believe him, you have to be on the main family's side. if not- we're on a different sides.

more on this when we talk about Kinn, but this is bone-chilling stuff.

to circle back to Porsche and how he got here: at the heart of it, his decisions aren't all that different from the things anyone who's been stupid-in-love have done or come close to doing: compromising your values, making exceptions- being blind to the bigger picture.

what could catapult Porsche's ascension into a full-blown tragedy (gay gods, let it not; I mostly like being alive) ultimately rests on the gorgeous shoulders of our next major player.

the proverb warns that 'you shouldn't bite the hand that feeds you.' but maybe you should, if it prevents you from feeding yourself. -Thomas Stephen Szasz

while pretty much all of Korn's scenes gave us glimpses of his manipulation, they showed us something else equally important: the depths of Kinn's devotion, specifically to his family and the Family. in Kinn's mind? I don't think he can tell the difference between the two.

this isn't Kinn's fault- he never stood a chance. how could he? Korn's had an actual lifetime to subtly shape and mold Kinn into the obedient foot-soldier-in-a-Gucci-suit he is today- and did he ever get started with him young.

remember Kinn's fireside confessional? he told Porsche about his dream as a kid to be a singer, but he seemed to let go of that dream almost as quickly as it came. where did Kinn get the idea of having to step up to take the burden off of Tankhun if not from Korn?

he was a child, but the walls of his cage were already closing in- and he was none the wiser. cut to all of these years later, and he STILL isn't aware. Kinn is incredibly kind, caring and soft with the people he loves, so he just said "yes- I can carry this great and terrible thing." he took on the burden, and his life is forever changed because of it.

he can't get that time back, that dream, or take back all the things he's done in service to Korn since. he's left with wistful "I wonders" before shaking himself off and moving onto whatever task is assigned to him next.

Korn is incredibly aware that love- romantic or otherwise- is Kinn's Achilles heel. all he has to do is casually mention how much the Family needs him (e.g. the apple scene) and boom- Kinn immediately falls back in line. Kinn would move heaven and earth for Porsche, but his blind loyalty to Korn is just as strong, if not stronger- the ultimate question, really.

and it bears repeating: Kinn's blindness is through no fault of his own. he's been systematically manipulated and groomed into becoming the man he is today. the fact that he's retained as much of his humanity as he has is a small miracle- however compartmentalized that humanity might be (read: being able to assassinate someone on the spot without a sideways glance).

if Porsche was walking to the metaphorical gallows unaware, Kinn is living on the knife’s edge, not realizing how incredibly precarious his newfound happiness is. he has faith in a foundation that doesn't exist. he's been drinking from a poisoned well all his life, and he's unwittingly invited Porsche to partake, as well.

I have no doubt Kinn’s intentions are good, and that his love for Porsche is as true, deep and real as any. it's the same sort of unquestioning, all-encompassing love- for his family, THE Family- that could be their ultimate undoing.

I am no bird; and no net ensnares me. -Charlotte Brontë

we're going to stick to the surface streets where Vegas and Pete are concerned, because to the shock of absolutely none of you who know me, I could write a book on them.

however, I have to highlight the stark contrast their story provides in the finale against Kinn and Porsche's. they were the only characters who walked away with complete autonomy.

what felt like the final nail in coffin to Vegas- no longer being in line to assume his father's position, gain his power and prove himself worthy- was his saving grace. again, this isn't because they got out of the mafia, but because they got out from under Korn- which, irony heaped upon irony, was still Korn's doing.

for now, Vegas, Pete and Macau have been set to the side of the game board by our main player. they're out of the game, but they'll still receive some of its benefits (likely financial). it's probably the best outcome they could have gotten.

regardless of how it came about, or whatever the future holds for Pete and Vegas- it'll be a future they author together from start to finish. they're going into this new chapter with their eyes wide open, their feet on the ground and with a mutual purpose- to somehow be a family- based exclusively on what they want and need most.

I wish that wasn't more than I could say for Kinn and Porsche, but with where we leave them in the finale, it is- for now.

we aren't one story- we can change our stories. we can write our own. -A. Poehler

and so, we reach the end. Kinn and Porsche are silhouetted against/almost swallowed by the darkness behind them (intentional? I'm thinking yes) on the deck of the boat where it all started.

everything has been leading us to this moment- even their final lines are a callback. Porsche is gazing at Kinn with so much warmth and affection, declaring that his life is Kinn's. Kinn assures him he'll treasure it, clearly in bliss- probably feeling like he finally has everything he's ever wanted.

the parallel- along with Porsche repeating again that he's there for Kinn and Kinn alone- gave me chills at all the high-romanticism, coupled with deeply-ominous foreshadowing.

Porsche's life is now Kinn's, and Porsche would give him absolutely everything (he already has). can the same be said for Kinn? is he capable of rising above a lifetime of submission to Korn for their relationship's sake, for Porsche's sake- or most importantly, for his own? Kinn and Porsche are on equal footing on the surface only, and Porsche couldn't be at a more dangerous disadvantage.

as @dancinbutterfly put it to me so eloquently:

there can't be equanimity when one person is standing on earth & the other is in chains, looking up at him from the heart of hell.

I have to use our catchphrase one last time here, because it's never been more applicable: this scene is the definition of many things can be true at once. when we step back to look at the state of play, the bigger picture- Kinn and Porsche's final moment is as tender and heartfelt as it is potentially heart-wrenching.

we're watching these characters we've come to know and love teeter on the edge of a precipice they don't even know exists- but we do. Korn knows- he created it, and he even gets the literal last word- not counting the small bit of dialogue in the final-final scene with Porsche, Porchay and Namphueng.

I was so distracted by the beauty of the relationships between our main/side characters and how they were developing, I didn't go over many of these small- but, in retrospect, crucial- details too deeply, until the finale left me feeling so uneasy, I had to figure out why. even that might have been intentional.

not to go crazy conspiracy board here (but I will): how poetic would it be if the intention all along was to 'dupe' (but not really, because we're talking about it here) the audience into being in exactly the same mental boat as Kinn and Porsche?

i.e. we're so distracted by all the pretty, shiny things (love! HEA! they're in power together! etc.) that we don't see the forest for the trees? I really hope- and dread- that we might get to see it all come to awful, angst-ridden fruition in a second season. because that, my friends? truly god-tier level story telling.

even with all this possibility for heart-wrenching fallout, I've never felt 'safer' as a viewer as I do in the hands of these writers. they left some plotlines under-developed or unaddressed entirely (for now), but the unforgettable story this team managed to create from the mostly-trash heap that is the source material is a testament to their professional prowess, and evidence of all the thought and care they poured into KinnPorsche.

this show has consistently delivered on every promise it made, and managed to surprise me at every turn. I don't know exactly where we're going from here, but if we get to see Kinn and Porsche's story continue? I can't wait to see where they take us- even if it rips our collective hearts out in the process.

what a way to go, no?

special thanks to @dancinbutterfly for going full-on Pepe Silvia with me through half the night (more than once) while I slogged through this thing, and to my wonderful wifey @elnotwoods for helping get my ideas off the ground 💖 tagging some lovely peeps who have been patiently waiting for this behemoth to drop: @patprans @ellaspore @bengiyo @snimeat @rainbowcolored7 @maleficent-cannoli @i-got-the-feels @shinwoonoh @risu442.

as usual whenever I write long-form, I’m doubting whether I actually said anything at all here? either way- thank you for reading this far & I hope you enjoyed it 🖤

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