#finally got a chance to work on these again lol
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American Psycho Killer: The Sequel
Summary: After Leon perfectly got away with murder and finally got the chance to be with the girl who lived just down the hall, he hasn't noticed that she, too, was just like him.
Warning: stalking, murdering, mentions of planned murder, death, smut, creampie, yan!leon, not proofread lol, fem reader, psychopathic, yan!reader, stalking, masturbating (female), dry humping, this might be my nastiest work yet
A/N: RAHHH GUESS WHO PASSED HER PSYCHOLOGY FINAL- ME!!!! im a certified psychologist now (this is joke btw)
[part one]
“I got you under my skin” - Mirotic, TVXQ!
People always seem to forget that not all psychopaths are the same. Sure, most share the same goal. But not every psychopath is the same. According to Kurt Scheinder, there are different personality types within the psychopathic community.
Leon's an affectionless psychopath; he's cold, antisocial, manipulative, and very assertive. He's a perfect murderer who kills anyone who dares to touch or hurt you. But he won't show or tell you how concerned he is for you. He doesn't feel love. No, it's quite different.
Psychopaths can fall in love with other people, but it's not the same. Leon's emotions are shallow and empty. But he still wants you to be his. He's possessive over you, he wants you in a sense that he can't even explain it himself.
But what he doesn't know is that you were also in the same percentage of psychopaths. You aren't affectionless, you're an obsessive psychopath. Obsessive psychopaths are people who are extremely possessive and become obsessed with people. These types of people often act on their jealousy and sexual fantasies. What he didn’t know was that you were deep down the trenches for him.
After having sex with the man, he cleaned you up and left your apartment room. It was late and he had work tomorrow, like every day. You felt conflicted, in a way, you had sex with your neighbor on the day of your ex's funeral. If you believed in God, you were sure he would send you straight to hell. But you didn't care. Leon made you feel things you hadn't felt before.
You found yourself thinking about him and the way he filled you up. Luck was with you the next morning when you bought the last morning-after pill. The woman behind you glaring at you as you shamelessly grinned at her. You didn't care, why should you? You didn't want to get knocked up, as much as you'd love the idea of carrying Leon's child, you barely knew the man.
But that didn't stop you from taking his pictures every time he walked by. Your phone angled slightly as you took pictures of him when you two were in the elevator, or when you'd see him from your window as he walked away from his car. You'd watch him like a hawk watching the fish in the river, waiting for the perfect moment to claw deep into its fins and carry it to its nest.
Was this illegal? Probably but then again, most things were illegal in such a fucked up and greedy country. You cheated the system; too smart for them as you found loopholes around the terribly written constitution. You knew you could get away with anything if you played your cards right- a gamble.
Being a psychopath isn't praised in society, people hate such disconnected individuals but being a psychopath yourself, you actually blended in. No one would question your obsessive and stalking habits. No one would even guess that the sweet girl from the apartment building had a wall full of candid photos of the blonde agent.
You stood back as you marveled at the sights. Hundreds of photos plastered on the beige wall, all from different angles and days. Some you took when he had his morning jog, some were when you stayed up all night waiting for him to come home. Something about the way he looked when he was exhausted just turned you on. The wall was right in front of your bed. Every night, when you'd go to sleep, you would stare at the pictures and get all excited about your perverted fantasies.
As you stared at the wall with the photos, your hands slipped down your pajama shorts. Fingers rubbing against the lacey panties you wore. It was perverted but a part of you took pleasure in the way the countless pictures stared at you as you rubbed your clothed clit. Back arching as you bit your bottom lip, trying not to be too loud for the neighbors to hear.
It wasn't enough. You needed more.
Poor pillow, you thought as you took a long pillow from behind you. You sat up and straddled the pillow as you faced the Leon wall. The picures staring right back you as you rocked your hips against the comforting material. Wetness pooling in your panties, making them stick to your needy cunt as you humped the pillow, pretending it was him. The wetness seeped through your pajama shorts, feeling the cold slick collect as you rocked your hips. If anyone were to see you, you'd be embarrassed. Going off on the pictures of your neighbor as you rode the pillow pretending it was his cock. Your clit rubbed against the lace material of your panty, your folds gliding with ease as every hump. God, you felt like a teenage girl when she first discovers what Wattpad is.
Moans collected in your throat, daring to escape as you shut your eyes tightly closed. Bliss overtaking you as you grinded against your pillow harder and faster, like a dog in heat. Your hands squeezed tightly around the soft fabric of what you pretended would be Leon's shoulders- maybe neck if you wanted to feel more dominant. The pillow slowly began to get stained with your slick as you neared your orgasm, the way your panty roughly grinded against your cunt and clit set you aflame. It was all so wet and arousing; it got your back arching as you could just picture his cock thrusting up into your womb, sliding through your tight gummy walls as he would grip your hips and bounce you on his leaking cock. Even the thought of him made you cum faster. Feeling the way his muscles would feel and flex as you drove him to the edge from your riding, the way his sweat smelled as if it was an aphrodisiac. Addicting. He made you an addict.
Cumming hard on the pillow, your thighs trembled and your moans escaped your lips. As you rode through your high, you couldn't help but feel conflicted once again. This was psychotic behavior but who was here to judge you? Exactly, no one. Not even Leon's pictures who were staring directly at you. With a quiet sigh, you got off the pillow and began to clear the mess you left. All while you kept thinking about him.
-
The landlord of your apartment building was a strange man. Supportive, but strange. He had a basement in which he'd host events about anything. He believed he was some sort of Messiah that was sent by God to help cure the people of whatever was pestering them. Today was no different; you found yourself sitting in one of the chairs in the basement along with the other tenants. Leon was there too. Sitting on the other side of the basement with his arms crossed over his chest as he sat far away.
"Thank you all for coming, today I want to talk about a few things. Like grief. We know that the death of a recent tenant has been...difficult to overcome," the landlord began- referring to the guy that died from the fire. They never caught Leon, so no one suspected a thing, not even you.
"The fire department has told me that I should revise a fire drill in case something like this happens again," the landlord's voice was soft and you could swear he was high. Or maybe he wasn't and that was just the way he talked, either way, it made you want to fall asleep.
"Just so we're clear- there is a fire exit only on the right side of the building. The door to the stairs will only open once the smoke detectors have detected a fire. Do not, and i can't stress this enough, do not pry it open. Those things cost a fortune and I'd hate to have to increase everyone's rent." Everyone grumbled at the thought of paying more for some idiot's actions. Leon, however, just remained silent and observed. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, just admiring the way his brows were pinched together as his lips were a straight line.
For a white man, he looked very attractive. You'd let this white man colonize you.
And then his eyes landed on you. Those piercing blue eyes that were hard to read found your own, and he held eye contact. Daring you to look away, to which you couldn't. You were too enthralled, as if he threw a spell at you. Not like you'd mind, of course, but this man was intimidatingly attractive.
You had to pull your eyes away from the intense eye contact as the landlord kept talking. From your peripheral vision, you could see how a woman approached Leon and sat down next to him.
At first, you didn’t think too much of it. You thought but not too much. Until her laughter made its way to your ears. Her laugh was as if nails were scratching on the board of some classroom. You hated it. It drove you insane.
Her laughter could be heard- it was fake and forced, it had to be. No one laughed like that. She had to be flirting with Leon and it only made you feel rage and jealousy. God, you needed to calm down. Or maybe you needed to kill her. His expression wasn't different. He was simply just staring at her. How you wished that was you sitting on his cock as you memorized his face. As you counted the blackheads he had on his nose, as your eyes traced the wrinkles and acne scars. You wanted to memorize his entire being.
Kill her? The thought never appeared in your head but who were you to argue against your thoughts. You trusted yourself.
Once the landlord had stopped talking, you were the first one to dash out of the basement. Not without looking at how the woman basically threw herself him. Her breasts pressing against his chest. His face was unreadable, just coldly staring at her as she tried to seduce him. It made your blood boil. How dare she do that to your man? She needed to learn her lesson.
The next few days, you've been studying. Not because you had exams, no, you studied for other reasons. You studied the human anatomy as well as some chemistry.
One night, around 3AM, you came back from the library you were in. Just freshly studied, you had many ideas on how to kill her. A part of you, the good part, thought that this was immoral and terrible. But the other part told you that no one, absolutely no one, dares to flirt with your man. He's not even your man officially but he might as well be for all the times you masturbated in front of his pictures.
When you were on campus, you "borrowed" some tools. Of course, you were going to be nice and return them to the STEM building before they even charge you for overusing their supplies.
Being an obsessive and jealous psychopath, you're bound to be reckless and impulsive. But not this time. This time, you were going to be calculated. You had a plan orchestrated for her murder.
You made your way to the security room where the security cameras screened the halls of the apartment complex. As you lock picked the door, you entered quietly. Your footsteps softly thudding against the carpeted floor. The room had about 8 or 9 TV screens that showed different angles of the different floors. On one of them, you noticed Leon walking through the parking lot. He must've come back from work; he usually does at this time.
Hacking the security cameras weren't easy. You desperately wanted to just smash the entire setup, but you knew that would only make you more suspicious. You needed to control your temper. Plus, you wouldn't do that to your landlord. He's a cheap guy and would rather not pay from his pocket, he'd probably increase the rent to pay for the damages you could cause.
After some minutes, the screens all turned static, giving you the sign to proceed with your plan.
You stepped out of the room, closing the door on your way out. Leaving it exactly how you found it.
You climbed the stairs to where your floor was since she lived just a few doors away from you. She moved into the dead guy's apartment; you thought it was dumb. Why would you live in a place where someone just recently died? That's bad luck because now she was going to die because of you.
Once again, you lock picked the door to her apartment and looked around to make sure no one had seen you. You knew Leon just came back from work, so you needed to be quick as to not let him see you like this.
You entered her apartment swiftly and silently, closing the door behind you with a soft click. The apartment was dark and silent, except for the soft snores coming from just down the hall. Where her room was.
Your footsteps were soft and quiet as you made your way towards her. And there she was, sleeping peacefully on her stomach. All sprawled out on her bed as her hair covered her face.
Quietly making your way towards her bed, you kneeled down beside her and took out a small liquid bottle.
Potassium chloride (KCI), it read.
You didn't know a thing about chemicals and what they do, but to be honest, you didn't care. All you knew was that this stuff could be lethal. And that's exactly what you wanted.
Taking out a syringe from your pocket, you punctured the top of the bottle and pumped some of the liquid into the tube of the syringe, making sure it went past the middle line imprinted on the plastic container.
For once, you were glad to have access to the labs in the STEM building. The things you could do... but that was a thought for another time. Right now, you had a job to do.
Finding a vein on her neck was easier than you thought, based on the way she was sleeping, her neck tensed, and a vein was popping out of the side of her neck. The blue line traveling down her skin.
As you aligned the needle on her vein, you pushed without remorse. The needle penetrated her skin as you injected her with the dose of KCI. You watched in awe as the liquid entered her system. A dose enough it would cause cardiac arrest, instant death even.
You decided to leave her bed as she slowly succumbed to her death. You stuffed your materials back in your pockets as you stood up. What you failed to notice was the pair of footsteps nearing the bedroom. As you turned towards the door, you immediately noticed the figure lingering in the doorframe.
Leon.
Leon watched you kill that woman. He saw it all happen right before his eyes. But his expression was still cold and unreadable. He stepped towards you and stood in front of you, staring down at you.
'Hm," he spoke quietly, "well, this isn't something I was expecting," he muttered.
You didn't know what to say as you stared up at him. He knows what you just did but you don't feel regret.
After a short moment of silence, he spoke again, "I was going to kill her."
Your eyes widened at the confession; he was going to kill her?
"Why?" you asked quietly. The ends of his lips tugged into a faint smirk as he watched your expression, "Because she was annoying you."
You were stunned once again. He was going to kill her because he knew she had annoyed you? He really was the perfect man.
"Now," he stepped closer to you, leaning down until you could his breath on your face, "Why did you kill her?"
It would be embarrassing to tell him that the only reason why you killed the woman was because you were jealous.
As you nibbled on your bottom lip, you tried to come up with an excuse, "Like you said... she was annoying me."
Leon wasn't dumb, he knew you were lying. He brought his hands to brush away your hair away from your shoulders, "Don't lie to me," he muttered as he twirled a strand of hair in between his fingers.
"Fine," you muttered back, "I was... jealous." You felt embarrassment shot right up through your body as you told Leon the truth.
His smirk widened slightly as he let go of your hair, "You were jealous? Why? Because she was all up at me?"
You nodded, "Yeah... i didn't like how she tried to flirt with you."
He looked at you and then back at the woman laying on the bed, "I'm impressed."
That comment was sent straight to your core, wetting your panties. It was almost pathetic, how much power he had over you. If you weren't in this woman's room, you'd totally straddle him and ride his cock like how you rode the pillow.
As he turned to look back at you, he noticed your concentrated expression. His brow raised slightly at the sudden profound silence coming from you. But he didn't mind, you were still standing there in front of him and that was enough for Leon's shallow heart.
"Leave," he muttered as he looked at you. This caused you to pinch your brows together. Why would he want you to leave?
"Go back to your apartment, I'll clean the evidence for you."
Your mouth fell apart after he said that. He was willing on cleaning up your mess. But you were sure not to leave a trace behind... not really. You weren't wearing any gloves. You mentally slapped yourself for the small mistake.
"I'll meet you when I'm done," and with that he got to work. He walked around with disinfectant wipes and alcohol as he made sure to clean everything you had touched.
As he did that, you walked out of her apartment and went over to yours. A lot of thought scurried through your mind; thoughts like: why is he helping you?
A part of you felt guilty for killing someone but the other part of you didn’t. The id and the ego. A constant battle between what’s wrong and what’s right.
You did think she deserved it. But at the same time, you and Leon had sex. That must’ve mean something, right? Does he like you? Does he want to have sex again?
A part of being a psychopath that not many people know is that they are one of the most hypersexual people ever to exist. One single thought about him and it gets sent straight to your pussy. It’s not necessarily bad, you just have a lot of needs.
Part of you couldn’t wait for him to finish cleaning up and come to you. But a part of you also didn’t want him to see the amount of pictures you had of him on your wall.
As you walked to your apartment, you settled yourself in your bed, staring straight at the Leon wall.
What would he think of you if he saw this?
Would he be creeped out?
Insecurity ran through your body as you thought about it. Overthinking the possibilities of him reacting to just how obsessed you were with him.
You quickly got up and began to try and take off the photos of him on your wall.
However, just as you pulled a few of the hundred photos, you heard the noise of someone clearing their throat. Your head slowly turned towards the sound and your face fell pale.
It was Leon.
“Are those pictures of me?” He asked as he stepped towards your room. Standing closely next to you as he stared at the wall. His eyes scanned each and every one of the pictures. Almost as if he was impressed more than disrtubed.
But he didn't look disturbed. He had a small smirk on his lips that flipped your guts inside out. What exactly was he thinking?
"Yeah... they are," you murmured under your breath as you looked back at the pictures.
"You keep surprising me today," he muttered and turned his head to look at you with that stupid smirk. The smirk that made you feel so many things at once, "I never took you for... a stalker."
Your cheeks flushed red from embarrassment, and you quickly looked at him, "I-I well-" You didn't know what to say. What could you possibly say without looking even more demented.
"I like it," he whispered and stepped closer to you. His expression still remained distant but there was something in his eyes. A dangerous glint of possession.
You turned your body to look at him, staring up at his eyes. Something was starting to form in the air, and it was dangerous. As if gasoline was being poured into a barrel of fire.
Without notice, he harshly pulled you to him by putting a hand on the back of your head. His lips crashed into yours as his other hand snaked around your waist and he forcefully pulled you close to his body.
His kiss was dominating and harsh. As if he was hungry for you. Your hands gripped around his shirt. Your knees felt weak, and you started to grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
He was kissing you like no tomorrow. He bit your bottom lip hard, causing you to gasp. His tongue delved inside and wrapped around your tongue- dancing a battle of dominance that you lost long ago.
His hand went down from your waist to grip your ass cheek, giving it a tight and firm squeeze. He pulled back and pushed onto the bed.
"Strip," he demanded in a low voice. You quickly obliged and began to take off your clothes. His gaze was penetrating you, watching you like an eagle as you got naked under his command. It filled his veins with pure adrenaline, and he wanted nothing more than to claim you.
He saw that you were obsessed with him, and he was finally able to show you just how obsessed he was with you too.
He took off his clothes as well and climbed on top of you and began to kiss you again. His lips hungrily crashed into yours as his hands traveled around your body, squeezing the fat of your hips and squeezing the curve of your waist.
His lips trailed down to your neck, abusing the skin purple and red as you whimpered and moaned for him. His touch was electrifying, and you were going off on it. One of his hands trailed down to your wet cunt as he kept sucking your neck. He chuckled lowly as he felt how wet you'd become in just the matter of two minutes.
"Already so wet for me," he sucked the skin around your collarbone as his fingers faintly hovered over your cunt.
"I bet you imagined this moment, huh? Me fucking you in front of all these pictures you took of me," he grumbled as he inserted his index finger without warning, causing you to gasp and rolled your head back. Eye tightly shut as he curled his index finger in you.
He was going ruthless on you. He inserted another finger in you, scissoring you with speed as he watched your eyes roll back. Your walls pulsated around his fingers, and he could feel his cock getting hard against your thigh. He could feel you getting closer to your orgasm and that only drove him to reach deeper inside with his fingers until his knuckles were buried deep.
He smirked as he saw the way you arched your back and moaned for him. His obsession for you only grew as he heard the lewd noises come from your mouth. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to not be too loud for your neighbors to send a noise complaint.
But he abruptly pulled his fingers out of you, denying you of your release. You whined and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, "Why... why did you stop?" you breathed out. And all he did was chuckle lowly at your reaction.
He was cruel but he loved it. He loved driving you close to the edge and then pull you back into reality.
“Turn over,” was all that he said. You got on your stomach and he gripped his hands around your hips and lifted your ass a little higher.
His hands went around your ass and back before giving you a slap on your ass cheek, causing you yelp. It stung but it felt good.
One of his hands left your hips as he pumped his cock with his precum and aligned himself with your entrance.
He buried his cock deep into your cunt, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to take his size. You whimpered as you shut your eyes tightly. He slowly began to move his hips against you from behind, trying to find a rhythm that would be pleasurable for the two of you.
Your face was planted flat on a pillow as he fucked you. Your mouth was open, muffled moans echoing through the room. The sound of his balls smacking against your clit making this look and sound so pornographic.
He could feel your walls tighten every time his balls clashed your clit, “You’re so fucking tight,” he grunted. You couldn’t reply, too preoccupied getting your brains fucked out by him.
His speed only increased as he became selfish and obsessive. He wanted to claim you, to make you his. It was psychotic but he needed it. He desperately needed you in his life, even if he’s fucked up in the head.
But you’re also a bit screwed up. What type of person stalks a man and kills for him? You, apparently.
You both have killed for each other. You both were obsessed with each other. One wouldn’t know if it was concerning or cute. Either way, you loved him and he loved you.
“I’m gonna breed you,” he grunted again as he pulled out and pushed back in brutally. His strength like no other, his muscles flexing and tensing.
His dirty words didn’t help either, they were driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. Your pussy clenched so tightly against his cock, wanting to milk him of his seed and force you to bear his children.
“Gonna fill you up- fuck- and make you mine,” he moaned softly in your ear as his hand left your waist and went down to your clit. Circling it and pinching it in between his fingers.
You mewled and moaned, drool dripping down from your mouth as you saw stars. He made you feel so good and you only wanted more.
His cock disappeared into your cunt with every thrust and he ogled at the sight. He loved the way you took him, he loved the way you looked so fucked out of your mind all because of him.
He made you feel this way. And he wanted more.
“You’re staying with me,” he groaned into your ear, “You’ll be mine whether you like it or not- fuck I’m gonna cum,” he grunted and kept thrusting into you. He kept pounding into you.
Every time he thrusted into you, he saw the way your ass jiggled and it only made his cock twitch and throb inside you. He shot his cum deep inside you but he didn’t stop.
He continued to toy with your clit as he kept pounding his half hard cock- which soon got hard again from seeing your face and hearing the way you moaned when he came inside you.
“Leon,” you moaned out lewdly as you neared your orgasm. It surprised you he came first but you didn’t complain, it only drove you closer to cumming.
“Cum for me,” he demanded in a growl. Your pussy spasmed around his cock and you came on his cock.
You arched your back as you came, feeling his deeper into your cunt as he continued to fuck you through your high.
And. He. Didn’t. Stop.
He wanted to cum in you again, he promised he’d fill you up and he never breaks his promises.
“Gonna cum again, sweetheart,” he moaned into your ear as his hand left your clit and went back to your waist.
“This pussy’s mine,” he grunted as he gripped your waist and pulled you on his cock, watching as your mouth hanged open, spilling moans and whimpers from overstimulation.
“You’re fucking mine, sweetheart,” he grunted one last time before ramming his hips into you and cumming inside you once more. His warm cum overfilling your cunt, cum oozing out as new cum entered your body.
He remained inside you as you both caught your breath. He couldn’t believe he’d cum twice but then again, you really did keep surprising him today.
And that’s what he liked about you. You were so unexpected and that only drove him crazy for you.
And you were crazy for him too.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon scott kennedy#resident evil#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#leon s kennedy x reader#leon smut#re leon#resident evil leon#leon#leon kennedy smut#re4 leon#yandere!leon kennedy x reader#re4r leon
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i've been picturing this for quite some time - bucky and gale casually having a convo over work/random stuff, bucky ignoring curt who's desperately humping his thigh and whining like a cat in heat? they've been arguing over stuff (mostly it's curt's being a brat as always) and ignoring each other (with gale stuck in the middle of it) for almost a week? but of course curt couldn't bear any longer without bucky's touch, feeling so empty not having bucky's cock in him so he jumped on bucky every chance he got pitifully lol. maybe bucky winning the idgaf war for the first few tries 😈 and eventually curt won and bucky give it to him HARD
I literally took this and rrraaaaaaannnnn with it.
I’m sorry (not).
Once again, I went insane.
If you’re not locked in for this shit, do not read: Desperation, Bucky has some unsavory coping mechanisms when it comes to his anger, lowkey watersports that lasts two seconds (oop), Eiffel Tower ish, more butt plug action
I HAVE to start making these a little shorter lmaoooo
I hardly proof read this. Pls love me.
💘
It was torture.
Curt had royally fucked up, and he knew it but had been doing everything under the sun besides apologizing to get Bucky back in his good graces while Gale sat quietly in the middle and watched it all unfold.
A bad driver, yes, but worse after a joint and a bong rip.
Bucky let him borrow the Range Rover to run errands across town while he and Gale stayed back to work on their docket and finalize their defense — it was crunch time for them and things had become beyond stressful, John’s usual laid back demeanor becoming far more ridged and on edge.
“At least it ain’t totaled!” Curt threw his arms up once Bucky had scooped him from the auto shop in his Jeep, his nostrils flared as he drove and bit his tongue. He had too much to think about, too much on his mind. Curt and his antics had to take a backseat until he and Gale could tie up their loose ends.
Curtis couldn’t give in though, feeling like a puppy with its tail between its legs. There was no scolding, but the silence was almost worse. “C’mon..” he scurried after Bucky who neglected to open Curt’s door for him, or kiss him like he usually did when they pulled into the driveway.
“It’s hardly a dent!”
The entire fender had fallen off.
With no choice but to let it rest, Curt moped around. He listened to music in his usual spot, he draped himself over a flamingo float in the pool, naked as the day he was born with a pink sunburn on his ass. He sunbathed bare, he sat by the window in only his underwear, he sucked on popsicles that stained his lips red.
He’d caught Gale’s glance a couple times, but not Bucky’s.
Don’t you dare look at him, Gale.
He’s just — he’s so —
He’s a fuckin’ brat is what he is. He’s cost me ten grand because he’s a fucking stoner who can’t drive. We have work to do.
At night, Curt would fall asleep before Bucky would ever get into bed. Some nights he’d even fallen asleep on the couch in his study once Gale managed to wake himself up enough to drive home, unable to ignore the texts Curt had eventually sent to him after three days of it.
Please tell him to talk to me.
Does he hate me?
Should I leave?
Yes, Bucky was pissed off but it was something he simply needed to get out of his system, and that couldn’t happen when all they’d been doing was discussing risk assessments and trial evidence.
He’ll come around, Curt.
Just wait until Friday. By then we’ll be all wrapped up with everything.
He’s just stressed. I promise.
Curt had been practically clawing at the walls come the weeks end, plopping himself over Bucky’s knee who had given him the slight satisfaction of pressing his hand against Curt’s belly to steady him there. “Almost done?” He chirped, but got no response.
“Did you color code the sections, Gale? Are they all in order?” Bucky’s gaze had stuck on the man across the desk from him, a pen in his mouth as he nodded.
“Yes — you’re worrying will only make —“
“And what about the evidence slides?”
Their back and forth droned on and Curt could feel himself losing grip more and more. Bucky had hardly looked at him for a week, and Gale just the same. He felt like he was right back at the beginning again, wondering when the next text would come by and he’d get that familiar hit of dopamine.
Wyd?
You up?
Wanna come over?
Can I come get you?
“I think we’ve got it all figured out, B.” Curt’s tone was gentle, apprehensive. Bucky could curse him out if he wanted — he wouldn’t be wrong for it.
He ground his ass into Bucky’s knee, huffing softly at the sensation. Without John to pay him attention with his tongue, some fingers or with his and Gale’s cock, he was left to his own devices.
It was hardly as fun.
Bucky wasn’t budging though, holding Curt still by his belly but not moving his hand, not one single bit of attention truly paid to Curt as he fussed on and on about the organization of their defense binders.
“Bucky,” Curt whimpered, leaning his back against his chest as his hands, much smaller than Bucky’s, grasped onto the one that rested over his stomach. “It’s Friday — it’s late. C’mon.”
Gale blinked at the two, his fingers idly scrambling to show each section of the binder Bucky anxiously asked to see without missing a beat or becoming too distracted by a panting and so desperate looking Curtis who spread himself out over Bucky’s lap, a pout visible.
It looked like he could get himself off that way, writhing and whining against Bucky’s body like the friction would be enough to set him over the edge.
“It’s all right here, Bucky. We have this down, buddy.” Gales eyes went soft, his tone assuring. “You’re the best lawyer I’ve ever seen work cases like this.” He was rounding third and headed for home — they were painfully close to the weekend, so far away from Monday morning court rooms.
C’mon, Galey.
“Being diligent never hurt.” Bucky went monotone, turning the binder again to flip through it himself. “It’s horseshoes and hand grenades — close isn’t good enough, Gale.”
One of Gale’s habits was diagnosing the people in his life, whether they knew it or not.
Bucky over time had acquired a wide range of diagnosis, though Gale couldn’t really nail down a few of them unless he put him through some testing, which he was unsure he was legally allowed to ask of him.
And Curt.
Christ.
He was a whole other story.
So imagine the line he towed, the way he held his tongue. Curtis had been open minded to his grounding techniques which he’d been getting better at implementing — in fact, Gale was astonished Curt had gone an entire week without lashing out at anyone.
He would count to ten instead. He’d remind himself Bucky still loved him, because the opposite was a silly thought, and he’d occupy his time with things that he enjoyed, rather than ways to get Bucky back under his wing.
He’d tried so hard.
He buried his face in the pillow on Bucky’s side of the bed and willed himself to make do with what he was given, but he failed time and time again. He felt so desperate, so hopeless. He’d fall asleep with the pillow that was losing his scent tucked against his chest.
Too much time had passed now, though.
It was becoming cruel torture.
Hips rocking against Bucky’s knee, he had totally lost all sense of self — his dignity taking a ding, no less. It hardly mattered anymore. No embarrassment could be felt on his part in front of two men who have picked him apart and fucked every piece.
“Curtis,” Bucky murmured, his brows furrowed at the little body that rut against him like a tiny dog who’d never been fixed, claiming its territory the only way it knew how. “You’re being fucking ridiculous.”
Curt gripped onto the side of Bucky’s desk, panting as he ground his ass stuffed with the only thing that’s kept him sane the past week — his first plug, the one Bucky had bought him under the pretense that Curt would wear it to class.
Of course wearing it to class had turned into wearing it to dinner, to the movies, in the passenger seat of Bucky’s now bruised up Range Rover.
“No, you are.” Curtis huffed, his eyes half lidded.
The siren.
Gale had made direct eye contact and had practically turned to stone, eyes wider than he’d like them to be as he watched intently with his hands frozen over the desk, picking idly at Bucky’s filled-to-the-brim calendar beneath his forearms. “Bucky..” his voice was strained, but his eyes had shown some sort of remorse.
Curt’s eyes had looked puffy lately, his shoulders sulked when he passed the study and neglected his spot near the window for a spot in the garden alone, instead.
“Gale.” Bucky mumbled, sights narrowed in his direction that time — he didn’t seem to be letting up, headstrong in whatever philosophy he felt he was upholding.
Gale had recently told Bucky he needed to be a little more firm in his expressions. Always a maybe, hardly ever a yes or no.
It seems he’d taken that to heart.
“Look at him.” Gales voice was still deep and quiet, trailing off near the tail end whilst Curt squirmed atop Bucky with red cheeks and messy hair as he moaned into his hands. “It’s been a whole week.”
“Gale, he wrecked my car.” Bucky pressed his hand firmly into Curt’s chest to still him but it was hardly any use.
“I get it — “ Gale mumbled back, “it’s pocket change, Johnny. Look how much he’s missed you.” He rose to his feet and bent over the desk, unable to leave poor Curt to writhe alone that way while his hands cupped the pink cheeks that’d become damp with desperate tears. “Poor baby.”
Curt’s black lashes fluttered in a haze, his lips parted where little puffs of determined breaths escaped while he rest his arms over the desk to assist his efforts in violating Bucky’s knee.
“I’m sorry, Curtie.” Gale continued softly, more kisses peppering Curt’s cheeks as the sound of his desperate efforts filled the study and seeped through the open windows into the garden.
Completely undone. So close, but so far. “Need it,” Curt whimpered, not daring to reach for Bucky’s cock because being shoved away would send him into a spiral. “Please — I — I’ll be so good,” hardly intelligible, barely a squeak once he’d gotten the words out.
“Ohh,” Gale cooed, his features softening again at the sight. He kissed away Curt’s tears again, swiping the rest away with his thumbs. “You’re asking nice, hm? Maybe just a little nicer,” he stifled his own moan at the sight, Curt crumbling in his hands. “You know how he likes his good boy, don’t you? Show him how good you can be, baby.”
Curt hiccuped as he inhaled, filling his lungs with the breath he’d been holding. “I fuckin’ have been!” His tone morphed into that of utter frustration through a clenched jaw that had began to ache, just like the rest of him.
It was an accident, the pressure built up inside of him pushing itself out — before he had truly noticed what he’d done, it was too late.
Bucky’s knee grew warmer and at first he’d hardly paid it any attention until it hadn’t gone away. “You didn’t-“ he grabbed Curt’s hips forcefully to move him aside and eyed the damp little spot left over his knee, “Curtis — you did fucking not just—“
“I’m so — I’m sorry. I’msorryI’msorry,”
Oh, the tears had tripled.
Gale still held his face and shushed him, a thought in the back of his mind had pondered the idea that Bucky deserved it, in some way.
Until Curt was shoved over the desk, the binder Bucky’d been fussing for hours over thudding onto the floor in a heap, now long forgotten and replaced by a pair of dickies that needed washing now, a far too sympathetic Gale and a Curtis whose wet cheek muddied the ink written in the tiny boxes of Bucky’s work calendar.
“Bucky, it was an accident,” Gale whispered, watching John yank Curt’s damp jeans off of him and toe them away carefully, an open palm slapped against perky, sunburnt cheeks that had been spending too much time outside with too little sunscreen. “He didn’t mean to, did you, baby?”
“No, I didn’t - I didn’t mean to,” Curt was reeling at the feeling of cool air tickling over his prickly skin. “I promise — I’m so-so-“ he’d been cut off by another open handed clap against his skin, a moan chasing after the whine forced out of him.
His body wiggled over the desk he stayed draped over, his wrists held behind his back with Bucky’s left hand, the other pressing a middle and index finger against the base of Curt’s plug to push it a little deeper into him.
His thighs trembled, damp and spreading apart further for Bucky whose hands were rough and unforgiving.
For the first time in a long time, he felt shame.
Desperation at its finest — so long were any ideals he previously philosophized. He was suddenly becoming nothing without them, the reaper of what he sowed.
And, so be it.
Bucky hardly gave him any spit, shoving his hips forward into Curt who gasped over the desktop, his eyes half lidded and staring at Gale who crouched before him, their lips locking for sporadic durations of sloppy and uncoordinated exchanges.
Cherry. Curt always tasted like cherry. “Oh,” Gale hummed, voice deep and living somewhere in his chest. “Look at you — just made for taking it. Our good boy.”
Curt was so pliant in Gale’s hands, jaw clenched in his palm as he held him in place; so soft and flushed a gentle pink, black lashes fluttering over damp, puffy cheeks.
Bucky was a mess of floppy brown curls falling into his eyes once his hips had developed a ruthless rhythm, Curt’s body beneath him malleable and so willing to please, each breath he took a stuttered choke on his blathering. “Right—right— there” he hiccuped through strangled breathes, “Fucking — fuck me— please”
Beneath him, Bucky’s handwriting muddied more into the pages of his calendar with the evidence of his so called punishment. “You like that, don’t you?” His hips had slowed so abruptly, neither Curt nor Gale could register it. “You’re far from deserving.”
Curt twisted himself to lie on his back instead, sprawled over the desk with his head hanging over the side, his legs spread and his mouth opening pliantly as he looked to Gale again who deserved a little loving, too.
“Oh, good boy.” Bucky cooed, palms flattening against the inside of Curt’s thighs to spread them wider as he watched Gale waste no time undressing himself, his leaking cock taken obediently into Curt’s warm, wet throat. “Make me take it back immediately, huh? No surprise.”
“You’re so fucking — god,” Gale couldn’t see his face anymore, just the mouth that his hips sputtered into but he knew Curt still looked like an angel, even despite the angle he was at. “Don’t care the brat you can be. You’re so good at makin’ up for it.”
Curt’s throat vibrated with a happy little hum, body wracked with shivers and tingles once Bucky began to fuck into him, hooking a hand around Gales neck to pull him closer and kiss him — hot, wet, hurried. As if he just needed anything to occupy his mouth. “Come with me, Gale.” He whispered against Gales lips who bit back a moan. “Make him swallow it.”
Each of their rendezvous had sent him farther and farther into his descent.
What are we?
What is this?
Do I love two men?
Do they love me?
Gale finished first, choking Curt on his cock and then the ribbons and ribbons of white hot pleasure that trickled hot and wet down his throat that he swallowed without hardly wasting a drop despite his belly that tensed as he gagged — this angle was tough, but Gale liked watching Curt struggle a little.
Once Gale backed away, the mouth he’d fucked was kissed by Bucky who licked into it, tasting Gale, swapping spit, biting tongues and lips and chins like animals in a deadly heat.
Curt’s belly grew warmer with a familiar sensation, little body spent atop the desk where his thighs shook and tensed together, his orgasm falling from the sky and straight onto him like some sort of atomic bomb.
His body lay spent and sprawled over Bucky’s table, their once organized files turned into heaps of now disordered mess and chaos. “Happy now, aren’t you?” Bucky tapped an open hand over Curt’s thigh, watching him grin and nod his head, unable to use his voice.
His throat was raw, his body still shuddered with the aftermath of his orgasm, “Told you he’d come back around.” Gale bent down to kiss Curt’s damp forehead, pushing his hair away from his eyes.
(Do you like the extra spaces between paragraphs? Is it easier to read?????? Anyway… lmk…..)
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Huevember - Day #6
#my art#huevember#huevember 2023#lego monkie kid#monkie kid#lmk mk#let us all have the patience to wait for the epicness that will be season 5#finally got a chance to work on these again lol
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{ya girl is still a bit too preoccupied to really be around here much atm, but-- i've just gotta pop in to mention that me and Micchan are having a time watching the current rizz based shenanigans on dash~}
#{|dash commentary|}#{|ooc notes transition—|}#i'm still visiting with friends for a while~ and probably will be till a lil bit after the 13th--#and while i might have more chances to hop on here in the coming week or so--#seeing as the main friend who's been stuck home with me finally picked up work again after leaving his last job--#given that tomorrow is my birthday-- we might off doing smth for that lol#and after that-- well we'll just have to see when i've got the time/juice to pop back in here X'D#i do have plenty of things in my drafts now tho-- so i might trickle out some aesthetic posts and such soon~#and thanks to any of you lovelies who read my tag ramble lol
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Hm. I am getting the distinct feeling that either revanced broke or some apps are doing smth real shitty
#rat rambles#anyways guess who's youtube completely stopped working#It's fine I can watch on browser but it's still very annoying#And the tumblr thing is even more annoying hense why I've been like completely off of tumblr recently#Maybe the universe is telling me to take an Internet break but like I have just been starting to feel a bit better#My family got a new dog the other day btw not relevant to the rest of this post but her name is karla and she's a very anxious doggy#I'm just waiting for laundry rn so that's why I'm posting at all lol#Might have to switch to posting from my laptop soon if things don't get unfucked#Which wouldnt be the end of the world but sure as hell would be annoying#Idk maybe it'll motivate me to finally make a proper blog theme#Idk what Id do for a blog theme tho tbh#An oni theme would be rly fun but it would also probably age poorly (as in the second I get into smth new)#So maybe an oc theme?#That could be fun#Not sure what characters Id use but maybe mascot and/or midas#Idk but chances of me actually doing it anytime soon are slim#Rly if I'm gonna customize anything more it's gonna be my toyhouse page#Oh also good news I'm going to do a pet sitting job for my aunt and uncle at some point#It'll be like 3 weeks I think and I'll be getting paid 700 buckeroos if I'm remembering correctly#I already have a lot of thoughts of how I'm going to spend it even if I should probably try to save at least some of it#There's just a lot of ppl who could use that money more and better than me and I don't wanna be stingy during times like this#I have also might buy like a new game since I've been interested in playing smth new#There has been one game I've been eyeing for a while and I have a mutual who likes it a lot but idk if I'm ready for new blorbos yet#But oldie or whatever her name was calls to me. She tempts me so#I'm open to other game recommendations tho just know that I'm gonna be picky on more story heavy games#Again I'm not exactly on the hunt for new blorbos rn and getting new story hyperfixations is scary to me lol
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((question: I realize I can make carterio canon for Carter's main verse as well as the ikau by saying she and Quentin were together while she was in college, but then they broke up pre-aou or just after. Do y'all think that could be something that'd work or just leave it as an alt-main during iw/eg?
#ground control (ooc)#((I'm at a stall with the rewrite rn because I'm weighing out some ideas I've had before but either got rid of (for some reason)#or placing more importance to (like including her lessons with music and art when she was younger)#and I'm trying to figure out a way to make a summarized version since I feel like I'm getting too detailed#but after that is where I'm debating on if I should leave as is or make some changes#and I feel like it could work with carterio - though I'd make adjustments according to his character#and I'd probably finally watch ffh again to get a better feel lol#but I figured I'd ask since I'm on the fence about this and don't really have a strong feeling either way#so other opinions would help! and again I'd make adjustments to the situation if I go this way although it's still gonna be toxic#because Quentin is a toxic person imo - he's absolutely interesting as a character and I love that he's a diva lol#but also because there's nothing wrong with writing characters who are terrible people and stay terrible - like Obadiah#but also it's fun exploring other ideas like that one anon had for the ikau au of carterio!#plus it'd actually give Carter more incentive to not say anything about their relationship to Tony#since I'm sure Quentin would've also dated her then to try and increase his chances getting a job at SI#and she wouldn't want to ruin that/take away that chance from him despite him hurting her#I will say I actually might go with them dating in college in the ikau before breaking up and then getting back together like I have now#but anyway - I'm gonna stop rambling bc I know there's a tag limit dsfghkjdfshj#I'll sleep on it and think about it a bit more - but I'd love y'all's two cents!))
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OLD GRUDGES (part 1)
A/N: wooohoooo im bringing something new!!! i feel like it happens so rarely it's like a miracle lol anyway, this will be hopefully a couple of parts (probably about 3) and lets all pray i will actually finish it lol
WORD COUNT: 3.7k
WARNING: sexual content
SUMMARY: Harry and Y/N go way back. Working together was like a dream when 1D was still going strong. Now, years later, when they end up working together again, things are very different. Mostly because Y/N seems to be hating Harry passionately. But he has not idea why.
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST
Everyone loves Harry Styles. It’s a known fact, not just amongst the people who actually know him, but all around the world. He is known as one of the most unproblematic celebrities, someone who gives just as much if not even more respect as he gets, always kind and patient with others, rarely loses his temper. It’s hard to imagine that there is anyone walking this planet who doesn’t see him as a lovable, sweet man.
Well, it might be hard to imagine, but there is actually one person who has a very different opinion when it comes to the british popstar.
And that person is music producer, Y/N.
The interesting thing is that their history goes way back into his 1D days. Y/N was an up and coming name in the industry, just started working with bigger names when she got the chance to produce several songs on the band’s third studio album. Harry remembers her as a bubbly, funny girl who is passionate about her job and is also excellent in it. Working with her was easy and motivating, she was always eager to perfect songs to an extent Harry couldn’t even imagine and that’s why songs like Story Of My Life, You & I and Midnight Memories were such hits. Y/N put her heart and soul into them, which eventually earned all the recognition they deserved.
Harry loved working with Y/N and she was in talks of working on their fourth album as well, but the deal ended up ditched and she went on to do other projects and they somehow had a fallout. It was a shame, but he hoped his path would cross hers again.
Years and years went by and so much changed by the time their professional ways finally met again. Jeff brought her name up when Harry just started writing for his fourth solo album and Harry gave him the go to do whatever it takes to get her on the project. A few weeks passed and Harry didn’t get any confirmation about her and just when he was about to bring it up to Jeff, he hit him with the news.
“Y/N is in for five songs. Contract should be signed by Wednesday and you can start working next week.”
Harry wondered why it took so long to get her on board, but he brushed it off because he knew she was a big name now herself and had plenty of offers from which she could choose from. He was excited to work with her and simply see her again.
It was utter shock for him when she was the complete opposite of what he remembered. Okay, that might be an overstatement, but Harry could feel something was off instantly.
She was still bubbly and fun, but for some reason, she had a certain iciness and bitter attitude whenever her focus was on Harry. To anyone else it was unnoticable, Harry knows, because he asked Jeff about it.
“What are you talking about? She is awesome,” the manager said with a shrug and Harry tried to tell himself it was all in his head, because if Jeff doesn’t see it, it’s not real.
But it kept happening and it felt even stronger when it was just him and her in a room. Sometimes she even pretended like he wasn’t there, sometimes her snarky comments were all he got and they just strengthened him in his belief.
He wanted to ask her about it, he tried, several times, but his attempts just bounced right off her icy behavior so eventually, he gave up and there was only one thing left for him to do.
Return what he was getting.
Yes, it is childish, but he felt like he needed to deal with her unreasonable hatred towards him somehow and this was the easiest way. Was it a smart idea to practically become enemies when working together on his album? Of course not. But it just happened.
And going against each other became their thing.
They were great in arguing, disagreeing even when they could easily compromise, riling each other up and lashing out on each other when the tension had been building up for hours. It got to the point where others started to notice that something was off between the two of them and when Jeff questioned Harry about it, he couldn’t give him a reasonable explanation.
“She started it,” he said and instantly felt like a kid, telling on his classmate at school. But this is all he could say, because he had no idea why she was acting this way. And he has to live with it while they work together.
Something is off. Harry knows it. Something about the melody… or the guitar… or is it the lyrics? He can’t tell, he has listened to the recording a million times so it all melts in his ears and he can’t identify what’s setting him off every time he hears it.
“Why don’t we take a break?” Jack, the technician suggests, turning in his chair. “Y/N will be here in twenty, I’m sure she’ll–”
“Okay,” Harry snaps, just so he doesn’t finish. He knows what he wanted to say.
She’ll know what’s wrong and will correct it in a second.
Y/N always knows what’s wrong and most of the time it’s a perk, of course it is, but today, Harry feels like it’s gonna make him want to crawl out of his body. Maybe it’s because he’s been in the studio for five hours and he got nowhere or maybe because Mitch will have his first ever solo gig tonight and Harry has been worried his fame or relation to him might ruin this experience for him.
Either way, today he is just extra pissed by the fact that Y/N will be the one to solve this mystery.
“I’m gonna grab a coffee,” he clears his throat, standing up from his seat. “Do you want one?” he offers, feeling a bit guilty he snapped at Jack.
“Uh, yeah, just an espresso is fine, thanks man.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.”
Putting on his headphone, Harry jogs across the street to the tiny coffee shop he’s been a regular at. He likes the place because they are discreet and their coffee is just simply amazing, though they swear there’s nothing extra in it.
He waits for the two coffees at the end of the counter and scrolls on his phone in the meantime. Emails, messages, there’s always something to answer to. He sends out a few replies before he ends up in his calendar. It’s neatly color coded and he takes pride in keeping it up-to-date all the time so he can always be on top of his game, no matter what.
His eyes land on one particular date. Five weeks from now Y/N’s contract expires and if the five songs are done by then, she’ll be out of Harry’s life again. Seeing how the work is going, she’ll easily outdo that number so there won’t be any reason for talk about an extension.
An unsettling feeling spreads in his stomach as he stares at the date but he doesn’t have time to figure it out because he is snapped out of his thoughts when the two paper cups are placed in front of him. He is trying his best to keep a positive mindset as he returns to the studio’s building. With the two coffee cups in his hands he makes a right turn and then stops at the door, seeing Y/N sitting where he did previously, already listening to the recording with Jack with a critical expression on her face.
Harry doesn’t interrupt them, just stays put and waits for her feedback. When she is done listening, she leans back in her seat.
“It’s the bass. Or more specifically the lack of it. Can you double it? Let’s see how it changes.”
Jack is quick to do as she asked and then he starts the song again and…
Harry wants to scream and laugh in bliss at the same time, because it’s perfect now. He’s mad he couldn’t spot such an obvious thing, but he is also happy it’s finally sorted out. It’s just a shame Y/N was the one to do it and not him.
“Great, so this is done then,” he makes himself noticed as he walks into the studio and hands over one of the cups to Jack.
When he looks at Y/N he can see that familiar, irritated look on her face that’s almost always there when he’s around. He hasn’t decided if he wants to physically wipe it off, or…
“Thanks for bringing one for me,” she comments in a bored tone, turning back towards the screen.
“You weren’t here when I went out.”
“But you knew I was coming.”
Harry opens his mouth, but then closes it, because this time she is kind of right. And it irks him even more today.
It’s gonna be a challenging session today, Harry thinks as he takes a seat.
It’s always exciting for Harry to be behind the stage when he’s not the star of the show. Kind of like a whole different world.
He hasn’t been here for long, but he’s been trying his best to stay as unnoticed as possible and let Mitch take the spotlight. Just a few minutes ago Sarah put him on Scout-duty which he gladly took up on, he’s always happy to spend time with the little guy. This time he is letting him explore freely and he’s just following him around to make sure he’s safe. Scout seemingly enjoys the adventure with uncle Harry, who doesn’t really pay attention where he is heading.
That’s how they end up in the green room where Y/N is.
Y/N and Sarah have worked together a while ago, which is a random coincidence how they are connected outside of Harry. Because of their history, Y/N is often where they are, however she was never around when Sarah and Mitch were playing for Harry.
Scout runs up to Y/N, arms in the air, asking to be picked up and Harry stops a few steps away from them when he realizes who he just found.
“Hey there, little guy! Are you all by yourself?” Y/N asks, settling the boy on her hip.
She’s changed since they parted ways in the studio. Harry has always admired her sense of style, which mostly consists of basic pieces, almost like a capsule wardrobe, but there’s always something extra, something vibrant on her that makes her sets interesting. Tonight she is wearing a simple black dress with a rather low back cut, simple heels, simple makeup, but she added a silky scarf with vivid colors and shapes around her neck that brings Harry’s attention to the curve of her neck and collarbones, almost as a cheeky invitation for his eyes to her naked skin.
He has to fight the urge to touch her.
Despite the spiteful relationship they’ve been sporting lately, Harry had to deal with a rather unreasonable desire for Y/N in a physical way.
Unreasonable, because he never thought he could be attracted to someone who pisses him off so easily, yet there’s been plenty of occasions when Harry found himself imagining scenarios he could never admit to her, not when she hates him with such obvious passion.
Tonight it’s not just the outfit, but also the way she’s handling Scout. It’s not just women who find it incredibly hot when the opposite sex is great with kids, Harry can definitely feel something inside him moving as he watches Y/N sway from side to side with the little boy in his arms.
“Uncle Hazza is here!” Scout points at him, answering her previous question. Y/N looks up and because Harry was already looking at him, he catches a slipping moment where there’s no irritation on her face, but it returns quite fast when her gaze settles on him.
“Ah, hi,” she says, lips pressed together as she nods, acknowledging his presence.
“Hey. Long time no see.”
As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it. Who says that? Why did he even say anything else other than hi? He smacks himself in his mind.
Part of him expects her to say something like ‘not long enough’ but she just keeps quiet and turns all her attention to Scout. Harry feels out of place, he is supposed to be babysitting, but Y/N is taking care of Scout, Harry knows he is in good hands but Sarah asked him to watch over him. Should he leave? Or just keep standing there awkwardly?
“You can go, I’ll watch him,” Y/N says, as if she could read his mind.
“You sure?”
“I’m pretty sure I can take care of him until Sarah is back.” Her reply is not just dry, kind of offended, nothing Harry wouldn’t expect from her, but it’s still irking him.
“I didn’t say you’re not capable, I just–”
“I’m not in the mood for this,” she cuts him off with an icy look. Harry is too stunned to reply, just watches Y/N walk away with Scout.
He almost finds it amusing how easily she can piss him off, not many people have been able to do that, in fact, Harry thinks she does it the best.
Clenching his jaw he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves and then just lets it all go.
The after party is always kind of Harry’s favorite. The stress is over, it’s just the relief and celebration that is left.
Mitch’s show went well, that’s what Harry expected, but it’s still great he was right. Seeing his friend be the star of the show was an experience he is glad he could be part of. Now that the core of the group has moved to a nearby bar, Harry has loosened up thanks to the couple of drinks he’s had.
He’s been mostly sticking to the familiar faces he knows, rotating between the same few people while enjoying how under the radar he is currently.
The more drinks he has had, the less he’s been able to control where his gaze goes. To be exact, he’s been finding himself looking Y/N’s way the past hour or so. That damn dress and scarf, it’s like she’s put a spell on him that forces him to keep wanting to look at her.
Harry is not experienced with feeling like this. Being attracted to someone who he hates, it’s such an ambivalent impulse, he can’t think straight. Or maybe it’s the amount of tequila he has drunk tonight, either way, it’s getting a rise out of him.
From the corner of his eye he sees her slip out to the back where the smoking area is, he hesitates, shifts his weight from one leg to the other before making the leap and heading after her. He has no plan, no idea what he wants to ro will say to her, but he just feels like he has to talk to her.
Stepping out to the dimly lit back alley he is met with a few people scattered around, having a cigarette with drinks in hand, talking or scrolling on their phone and then he spots Y/N on the left, standing by the wall, cigarette in one hand, the remaining of her drink in the other as she stares ahead of her.
She doesn’t smoke regularly, but she does enjoy one in certain social settings or when she’s had a few drinks. Harry knows it from years ago, because they shared a cigarette at a party, back then she seemed thrilled to spend time with him, he remembers all the conversations they had while working together, telling each other stories, sharing their plans, Harry truly thought they would remain good friends on this extraordinary journey, yet they ended up here.
As Harry walks towards her, she notices him and he sees her lips twitch in annoyance.
“Care if I join?” he asks and she just shrugs without a word, avoiding to look at him.
They stand there in silence for a while, she is lazily puffing the smoke out from time to time.
“Is it still just an occasional thing?” he tries to strike up a conversation.
“Mhm,” is all he gets as a reply.
“Have you tried to put it down fully?”
“Why are you doing this?” she snaps at him, finally looking his way.
“What?”
“Why are you trying to chit-chat when we both know we don’t do that?”
“And why don’t we?” He challenges her. “Tell me why we are like this in the first place, because I have no idea.”
She stares at him for long moments and he awaits her answer like nothing before, but then she shakes her head and turns to the pin beside her, puts the cigarette out and flicks it into the bin. Then, without another word she is already heading back inside.
It takes a moment for Harry to start moving again, but he is quick to catch up with her in the hall that leads to the restrooms.
“Y/N, give me a fucking answer!” he demands, grabbing her wrist to pull her back before she could escape, but she shakes his hand off as she comes to a stop, turning towards him.
“I owe you nothing!” she hisses at him. “I owe you no one, but especially you!”
“What the fuck does that suppose to mean?! I never thought you owe me anything!”
“I’m not doing this, Harry, leave me the fuck alone,” she growls and tries to leave, but Harry pulls her back again, determined to get an answer this time.
“Don’t think I will just swallow everything down forever. I will get to the bottom of this, whether you like it or not. It’s your choice if you make it hard on both of us.”
She is looking back at him with wide eyes, this time his hand remains on her arm as they stare each other down in the empty hallway. Neither of them knows what will be their next move, the tension is so thick, it’s almost suffocating.
But then it all changes.
If someone asked who moved first, they wouldn’t know. One moment they are standing like stone statues, barely even breathing, then the next moment they are kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
It doesn’t take long until Harry has her pressed up against the wall, his hands roaming her body, feeling her up the way he fantasized about before, they are both rough and impatient, she is clawing at him, moaning into his mouth when his hips press against hers and she feels how hard he’s gotten already.
Blindly, Harry pushes the closest door open which happens to be the staff’s bathroom that someone left unlocked, lucky for them. Still glued together they stumble inside, Y/N kicks the door open before Harry pushes her against it and he locks it before his hand returns to her tempting body.
He has never acted like this when it comes to sex. He does like to spice things up sometimes, but the way he’s biting her lips or unbuttoning his pants or reaches under her dress to pull her underwear down is just so out of character for him, yet so freeing.
Nothing is said, but when her hands pull his hard, leaking dick out of his pants, there’s a fleeting look they exchange that says it all, just how much they both want it.
It’s the fastest pace he’s ever experienced, yet the most passionate too. They moan at the same time when Harry pushes into her and starts moving in a rush, desperate for relief. She’s panting and whining for more, the only form of speaking she is able to as she holds onto Harry who is focused on keeping up his quick and steady pace while holding her left leg up to ensure the perfect angle.
The animalistic need is there for them both, making them act like this is what they must do to stay alive. It’s messy, fast and mind-blowing and they don’t need much time to reach the peak. As she comes her nails dig into her shoulder and she bites into his bottom lip so harshly it draws blood, but he doesn’t care, only follows her into bliss just a second later. With the last bit of his consciousness Harry pulls out right before he comes, covering her thigh with the white, sticky evidence of just how much he enjoyed the past minutes.
They are breathing heavily and Harry feels like a thick haze is still lingering around his head, stopping him from realizing what just happened. Y/N however is ahead of him and when reality comes crashing down on her, her instinct to flee kicks right in. Harry is still trying to clear his mind when she grabs a paper towel and cleans herself up as fast as possible and Harry only snaps out of his trance when she is already unlocking the door.
“Y/N, what the— wait!” He can’t go after her as she slips out of the room because he is still pretty indecent, so he has to pull his pants up and can only rush out then, but by that time she is already gone.
He’s quite frantic as he tries to find her in the bar, but she is nowhere to be seen. Harry returns to the rest of their group, hoping to catch her somewhere but she has vanished into thin air.
“Hey, have you seen Y/N?” he asks Mitch, his eyes still roaming the place.
“Nah, haven’t seen her since she went out to smoke.”
Harry groans and makes his way outside, maybe she’s there waiting for a car, but as he steps out to the street he sees no trace of her. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he doesn’t hesitate before dialing her number. The line rings once, twice and then… it goes to voicemail.
“Hey, this is Y/N. Do whatever you want after the beep.”
“Fuck!” Harry ends the call and he has to stop himself from throwing it against the nearest wall.
This is not how he planned. Well, he didn’t plan any of it, especially not fucking Y/N like a horny teenager. He wanted to solve this whole issue between the two of them but instead he just created another one.
A stupid, giant one.
NEXT PART
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#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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— trust who?
pairing: e-42!miles x 1610!fem!reader
contains: angst, mentions of death, yandere?miles
summary: you were taken from him a year ago, and now it seems the universe has given him a chance to do things differently— and this time, he’s not letting you go. no matter what. wc: 1,648
a/n: i got a lil carried away w this one won’t lie, lol. i love this song, and i put a little twist on it to match the plot. song lyrics are in small, bold italics
🎧: Not You Too - drake (ft. chris brown)
“trust- trust who? trust me and i can set you free. left your man came straight to me you the real mvp, my love.“
dimmed hues of red lights spotted your vision as you came to, eyelids heavy as they peeled apart to reveal the room you assumed would be the setting of your demise. your head snapped up when you finally regained consciousness completely, fright-riddled eyes darting around to scout out an escape plan. but just as you went to move, you heard chains clink from above as your body swayed, and realized you couldn’t. you looked down to find your legs bound by rope, as well as your hands, as well as the rest of your body to a firm, stuffed sack.
feet dangling from the ground, you let your head fall back against the punching bag, defeated, and settled for your only remaining option. “help!” you yelled, voice rasped and weak. “help!” you tried again.
“don’t bother, can’t hear a thing down here.”
an artificial, robotic voice sounded from above, warranting your eyes to meet a masked man who resided on a high beam, crouched in place, watching you. how long had he been there?
he jumped down, catching himself and effortlessly hanging from one arm before his sneakers met the steel floor. they were untied, you noticed.
fear permeated your entire being as he strolled over to you, a semblance of uneasiness coursing through your veins, pumping into your blood and rendering your spine straight as the ominous figure stopped just in front of you.
“ple—please, i don’t know why i’m here,” the words tumbled out in a broken heap of suffocated, stifled sobs as tears welled in your eyes.
“shh, it’s okay,” he shushed you, a hand reaching out to gently pinch your chin, lifting your head back up after it’d fallen. his touch was delicate, like he was scared he’d break you.
“i’m not gonna hurt you, mi vida. i’d never hurt you… you know that.” the voice distorter cut out, your breath catching in your throat and your eyes fluttering over every inch of this strange mask. it reminded you of a ventilation mask you’d seen in miles’ room once, a mask used to protect your lungs from the fumes of spray paint.
as if your mind were working against you, you found yourself… calmer than you were just a few seconds ago, and even more confused. why did the voice sound so familiar?
something wasn’t right.
“who— who are you?” you gulped.
“you don’t remember me?” the shield over his face pulled back, the quiet sound of mechanical whirring as it revealed his face drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ear drums.
here stood your boyfriend in front of you, the same features, but… different. his entire demeanor had shifted since you had last seen him just prior to whatever time it was now, to something sinister. his hair was longer, pulled back and braided. an accent, almost resemblant of his mother’s lingered on the tip of his tongue, dripping within the words he spoke. his face was harder, etched and carved like the weight of the world had chipped at it piece by piece, only to settle on his shoulders, leaving him with no time for himself.
this couldn’t be right.
“miles?” you choked out, mouth gaping to find your voice. “w-why… what am I—you’re, you… but different? what is this? where am i?”
a puff of air shot through his nostrils, his best effort at a laugh as a small, smile lifted the corner of his lips, braids gliding over his shoulders when his head tilted to the side.
“you came back to me, mi amor. and god…you’re even more beautiful than i remembered.” he breathed, eyes flickering with sorrow for just a moment as they studied your face, a moment that was almost too brief for you to catch.
when he’d encountered you and his counterpart on the roof with his uncle, he swore his prayers had been answered. somehow, someway you’d been brought back to him— the pain of witnessing the bullet that pierced through your chest that fateful night just a year ago drifted from his mind, and replaced itself with the all consuming, peaceful, sleeping image of you the minute he’d picked you up and cradled you in his arms. it pained him to inject you with the needle to sedate you, but he had no other choice, he could never truly hurt you. no, he would never do that.
“i missed you so much.”
“first time in a long time hurtin' deeply inside”
the hand sporting his mechanical gauntlet lifted towards you, fingers bending so the claws wouldn’t scrape your skin as he let the cold metal brush against the swell of your cheek. the sound of the steel joints ticking made you flinch, chest stuttering for breaths you couldn’t keep within your overworked lungs as you turned away from him.
you looked at him with so much fear in your eyes, when all he’s ever wanted to do was keep you safe, to protect you, to make you feel comforted and secure. and he failed at that before, he knows that, but he’s ready this time. he’d been given a second chance, and he’d be damned if he let you slip through his fingers again.
“it’s me, hermosa… it’s okay, you know me. just trust me, and i can set you free, and then we can be together. just like old times.” his brows furrowed, his tone one of sincerity as he assured you, but it did nothing for your racing heart.
“trust—“ you sputtered, voice wavering when you spoke. “trust who? you? how can i when you have me tied up like this?!” you balked, your bewilderment such a stark contrast from his bleak, seemingly unmoving disposition.
“yeah… i’m real sorry ‘bout that. uncle aaron made me, so i tried not to make ‘em too tight. you know something like this would never, ever be my idea.”
you shook your head, was this some kind of sick joke? why wasn’t he understanding a single word that was coming from your mouth?
you grew frustrated, time was not on your side, and honestly you were getting tired of this game.
“i don’t know anything about you, i don’t even know who you are. you might have his face, and—and his body,” you looked him up and down. “but you… you are not my miles.”
he felt a pang in his chest, the words you uttered, the way you said ‘my miles’, as if he wasn’t right here, as if he wasn’t right in front of you. the version of himself he’d buried in the ground with you just last year wanted to jump out and yell at you, plead with you, anything to make you see he could be just like your miles, because he was your miles.
“oh,” he pulled the skin of his cheek between his teeth as he turned away with an agitated nod, extending his arm out to point towards your miles, who was still unconscious, chin dropped to his chest as he hung from another punching bag.
“him?” his voice raised in volume and broke apart with desperation, a humorless chuckle unintentionally escaping his trembling lips. “what’s the difference? huh? tell me.” he demanded, nostrils flaring as he tried to maintain his composure, staring deep into the eyes of the girl who would’ve burned the whole world down with him if he asked. the girl who was in his grasp, right in this moment, yet still so far from his reach— reserved for the one who had everything that belonged to him.
your head whipped to where he pointed, and the moment your eyes landed on your boyfriend your blood ran cold, a pained gasp rippling your chest. “miles! oh god, please!” you called out for him as you struggled against your restraints, his counterpart interrupting you by blocking your line of your view with his body.
“cálmate,” he hummed, “he’s fine, just unconscious. i’m not cruel. is that how you remember me, mamí?” he questioned, voice bleeding with hurt.
your gaze drifted over to your miles again, hope swelling within you when you heard him groan.
“no, no, princesa. don’t look at him, look at me.” he urged.
he didn’t understand. you always used to say you would love him in every universe, that you’d find him in every lifetime, what happened to that?
“please, we need to get home, if we don’t… he won’t be able to save his father, he—he’ll die. you have to understand.” you pleaded, the tears finally bubbling over your waterline, streamlining down your cheeks.
“you are home! it’s me, mi amor, i’m right here. what about everything we went through?” he asked tenderly, voice full of hurt and eyes still soaking in the slight difference in your features. he was too distracted by the fact that the girl he thought he’d never see again, was right here in front of him to even try and comprehend what you were trying to say. “please, don’t cry. you know i hate seeing you cry.”
nothing else seemed to be working, so you settled for empathizing with him. he was still miles, after all, different universe or not, he was still the same person deep down. and from the way he was looking at you, love flowing from the eyes that held so much anguish within them, you knew some version of you had loved him, too. in the same way you loved your own.
“look, i’m sure i-“ you stopped to correct yourself, “she, loved you, but i’m not her. i’m not from here, and i’m sorry she’s gone, and i’m sorry you have to live with this pain, but, please… you have to let me go.” your tone was forbearing, words teetering off into a hushed plea, your lingering apprehension threatening to tear through the seam of your heartfelt spiel.
“let you go?”
you nodded tentatively.
he moved closer to you, to unbound you from this elevated prison, you assumed. because maybe, just maybe you’d managed to get through to him.
but this wasn’t your universe, and this… this was not your miles.
for the first time in your entirety of knowing miles morales, you felt your heart stop— and not in the way that brought a flurry of warmed, passioned butterflies to flutter within you— but in a way that invited his words to settle like ice in your bones, allowed panic and dread to inhabit your senses, clutching you in a selfish grasp of resentment that had no intentions of letting you go— you realized, as this time, his gloveless hand swiped away yet another tear you hadn’t even noticed you’d shed.
“why would i do that?”
“I've given you enough time. hurtin' deeply inside.“
- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!
likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗
©luvjunie 2023
#junie’s works ᥫ᭡#across the spiderverse#miles g morales#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales prowler#earth 42 miles morales#miles morales#earth 42 miles morales x reader#miles morales x y/n#miles morales x reader#miles morales x you#42 miles morales#prowler miles fanfic#miles morales angst
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Can I have a Lucifer vs Alastor fighting for the reader romantically, please if possible yanderes...
Lovely riddance
part two
pairings: y!alastor x reader & y!lucifer x reader
Note: reader will be a fallen angel for this! (Also this is prolly ooc)
You were a normal sinner (totally a sinner and not a fallen angel) living in hell you were in hell because of you questioning heaven which led to them throwing you down here… but you realized how different the other people in hell were compared to you. it just made you feel very weird, a total standout!
it made you miss heaven. A lot. Since you had made so many friends there and now you just lost it all. Well not all of it to be exact, your old friend Lucifer is the king of hell because he was the first one to rebel against heaven. You admired him for being so fearless against heaven themselves.
as you were in your own thoughts on the street of hell suddenly you passed by a poster that snapped you back to your senses. You suddenly scooted back to the poster and read it “want to be redeemed so you can live a gorgeous life in heaven? Well visit the hazbin hotel and let yourself be purified!” Oh my god. This could be your chance to meet other people like you! You decided to fly over there since the other angels didn’t rip off your wings when you fell down.
after like 69 minutes of flying (lol) you finally made it to the hotel! You couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious though, what would they think about you? Would they make fun of you? Would they humiliate you if you did one thing wrong- no you couldn’t let that stop you. This could be your chance to find your friends in heaven again. You knocked on the hotel door and waited for a response. It felt like it was taking forever until a blonde haired girl opened the door. (It only took 3 seconds for them to open the door but okay.)
she nearly screamed out of joy when she realized someone actually came to the hotel to be redeemed. She gave you a hug and welcomed you into the hotel where all the people there introduced themselves. There was Charlie, Vaggie, Angel dusk, Husk, Nifty, (nifty is a cutie) and a snake who you didn’t bother remembering his name cause it was too long. (Totally not an excuse to not have to write his name)
you almost choked though when Charlie said her last name was Morningstar, like Morningstar as in Lucifer Morningstar? She was his daughter?! You had no idea him and Lilith had a child but you felt happy for them. Not until she told you her mom left her 7 years ago. (Lol)
To your surprise (and relief) they accepted you and treated you nicely. And you recognized Vaggie but didn’t out her because you had a feeling that she didn’t want that to happen and you respected her.
All of a sudden a man just teleported out of the floor and tapped you on your back which made you scream so loud. He chuckled and said not to worry as it was him, the radio demon! And he also introduced himself as Alastor. He grabbed your hand and kissed it which made you a bit confused but you rolled with it. Over the couple of days you had spent there you bonded really well with all of them, but alastor specifically wanted to spend a lot of time with you.
he often invited you to brunch, dinner, and to help him work on the hotel. Had you caught his eye? Maybe… maybe you had caught his eye more than you thought you did. (He also may or may not be planning to make a deal for your soul.)
timeskip to when Charlie invited her dad over.
——————————————————————————————————————
you had all prepared for the place to look nice since the king of hell was coming to visit! Aka Charlie’s dad, and you wanted to make a good impression on him after you haven’t seen eachother for such a long time. He seemed happy that his daughter was inviting him over based on the tone of his voice when Charlie called.
You guys all got in position and Charlie was about to open the door until Lucifer barged in and greeted his daughter with a bear hug! He looked around the place awkwardly after and Charlie introduced him to everyone in the hotel. He stared at you for a couple of seconds not knowing if it was really you. He was about to speak to you until alastor teleported right next to you.
Alastor put his hand on your shoulder and had a death grip on it. Like he didn’t want Lucifer to even be near you. They both introduced themselves to each other and as they were talking about the hotel ideas, Alastor pointed out a thing you did for the hotel which helped them a lot. He brought your face to his as he put his hand around your neck pulling you closer. Your face was squished with his. He only did this though to simply piss Lucifer off and trick him into thinking that he had got to you first and that you guys have a deep connection.
as you pulled yourself away from him and looked at the two it suddenly felt as if there was an intense aura in the room all of a sudden. You laughed nervously and tried to excuse yourself before Lucifer grabbed your hand.
he was nervous and tried to compose himself to talk to you as it had been so long since you two had talked. Wtf was he even suppose to say? He decided to finally speak after an agonizing 5 seconds.
Lucifer: “oh [reader]… it’s been so long since we’ve last seen eachother! How have you been doll?”
[reader] : “oh I’ve been just fine. Well despite the fact that heaven kicked me out, it feels better here. Like I can actually breathe in this place.”
Lucifer: “good to hear. Would you mind visiting my palace sometime? Id like to show you some of my latest creations, especially one I made just for you!”
his smile became wider and his eyes seemed more sincere like he really wanted you to visit. I mean after all you guys haven’t seen eachother in eons!
before you could reply to his offer, Alastor grabbed your other hand and yanked you away as he chuckled.
Alastor: “I’m sure they would love to visit you sometime, but they’re busy with me today as I invited her to dinner and they accepted. Didn’t you dear?”
you suddenly remembered that you and Alastor were gonna go out for dinner tonight and you nodded your head.
[reader] : oh that’s actually right! I totally forgot about that for a minute. Well Lucifer would you like me to visit anytime I’m free if that’s okay?
Lucifer: oh, that’s just fine! Just try to make it soon cause I can not wait to spend time with you again!
his smile faded a bit and he seemed to give a glare to Alastor. In response Alastor simply had a wide smile as he continued to hold your hand after yanking away Lucifer’s.
After the argument with Lucifer and Alastor over Charlie was done.
───────────────────────
Finally everyone calmed down after they argued over who Charlie preferred as a dad. Thank god Mimzy barged through the door before another fight broke loose. After a couple minutes Alastor decided to tell everyone you and him would be leaving for dinner about now, you thought it was later but alright!
as you guys left through the door to go to your favorite restaurant, Alastor couldn’t help but giggle feeling Lucifer’s eyes burning a hole through him. He knew it pissed him off and he was glad that it did. And little did you or Lucifer know the Alastor was making more and more progress to his plan. His plan was to woo you enough so that you’d made a deal with him for your soul.
of course you’d get benefits aswell! Alastor would be at your every beck and call and you would do the same for him. It would just be a matter of time before he proposed the idea to you. He just hopes a certain someone wouldn’t mess it up.
part two coming soon…
note: hiii to everyone who read this, I’d like to thank you all for all the likes on my previous two posts! I’m going to be working on part two sooner or later. Also sorry is this is a bit ooc, I’m new to writing fanfics and tried to make alastor manipulative like he is in the show. :)
#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin hotel
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hiya! i’m a really big fan of your stranger things work and I was wondering, if youre comfortable of course, a steve x reader period imagine where reader tried to hide their period from Steve, but he finds out and is super fluffy and sweet about it? thank you!
HAHAH wow i have let this ask stew in my inbox since last year thats CRAZY im so sorry my dear,, i was going through old asks and i rlly like this prompt actually so here u go, i hope u enjoy!!!!
pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader
tags: established relationship, obv mentions of periods / menstruation, reader is referred to as female, steve being dense at first lol, regular sized font below!
wc: 1.4K
notes: while the reader in this fic is female, i am well aware not everyone who has a period is a girl, and not everyone who's a girl has a period!
Steve is one attentive boyfriend.
It’s the early stages of your relationship, the golden era, the honeymoon phase. And while you’re a still a bit nervous about it all, you couldn’t be happier, because he does it all right.
He knows your favourite snacks, what music you like, what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He’s starting to figure out your ins and outs, and it’s almost crazy how quickly he’s catching on. You have no reason to feel judged by him at any point, he truly is comfort poured into the shape of a person.
So then why are you staring at your phone right now, struggling to dial his number and just tell him why you can’t make it to your date?
It’s not usually this bad, at least it hadn’t been for a while, so why now, of all moments, must you be forsaken to be terrorised by your period?
You bite your lip, laying flat onto your bed, hand over your lower stomach. It's right where the pain is just gnawing at you, just like the guilt is. But you know you’d feel even guiltier if you just stood him up, he doesn’t deserve that. You sit up, a tad slowly to save yourself from another cramp, and swallow your nerves for now.
“I’ll just… Tell him I’m sick. Yeah… Yeah I can do that.” You think to yourself.
The combination of his number had started to feel natural to your fingers now, unlike how anxiously you pressed the buttons the first time, triple checking before finally pressing call. You're triple checking again now, more so because you're not sure you can handle hearing the defeat in his voice when you tell him you can't make it.
The phone barely gets a moment to ring before he picks it up, and his all too familiar sweet voice comes through the device.
"Hey babe, everything okay over there?"
You pause a moment before replying. "How did you know it was me calling?"
"Lover's intuition." He chuckles, and it makes your heart flutter. It's not fair how easy it is for him to do that to you, but you enjoy it nonetheless. "So, what's going on?"
"I, uh..." God, getting the words out is like pulling teeth. But you'd rather die than let him think you just got cold feet about your movie date. "I'm really not feeling too well right now, Steve... I'm-- I'm so sorry, I'm gonna have to cancel for tonight." Your eyes are welling up with tears before he even gets a chance to reply, just imagining his pretty face losing its bright expression when hearing your unfortunate news.
"Oh," damnit, he does sound sad, "that's okay, uhm... Is there anything I can do? What kinda sick is it?"
Shit, he's gonna make you say it, isn't he? You know Steve is a mature guy, he knows about periods, knows how they work, but you've been told to suck it up and get on with it before... A part of you is still disappointed that you just can't.
"U-Uhm... It's more like, a stomach thing, I guess?" It's the best way you can put it for now, hoping it'll put his worries to rest.
"Okay, I see..." You can nearly hear him thinking, the subtle noise of bags being moved and a fridge being opened coming through the phone. "Uh, how aboouuut... I come over to yours, and we just watch a movie at home? I still got a couple of tapes we haven't gotten to, and I can bring some light snacks that won't upset your stomach too much."
The thought of Steve caring for you while you're sick sends a warm feeling through your entire body. God, how does he just keep getting better? But you can't lie to him, right? It's not like you're really sick, unless you count the curse of menstruation as a symptom.
Before you get a chance to explain, he's talking again, and by the ruckus in the background you can only guess he's rushing to grab all his stuff. "I'll be heading out in a bit, I'll stop by the corner store too, stay put for me alright? See ya in a bit!"
You're sure he didn't realize he wasn't letting you talk, but frankly, you probably couldn't even come up with a response on time anyways. Right now, you just have to worry about looking somewhat presentable, and maybe figure out a way to tell him you're not actually sick.
By the time you've brushed your hair and brushed some mascara onto your lashes, you're already hearing the doorbell. You just manage to pull a fresh shirt over your head, before stumbling down the stairs and stopping in front of the door. With a deep, loaded, sigh you open it, to reveal your boyfriend.
Hair messed up, plastic bag in hand, jacket haphazardly thrown on. He clearly rushed to be here, still panting a little, but in your eyes, he's the image of your guardian angel, your saviour in need.
Before either of you know it, you're crying again, your freshly applied mascara now leaving thin black streaks over your cheeks. Your hands go up to cover your face, embarrassed, not even sure why you're sobbing all of a sudden. The feelings just hit you like a freight train, rocking you before you even have a time to rationalize.
Steve's expression falters, the bag he had in hand dropping to the floor in an instant, stepping in closer so he can carefully wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest. Not too tight, he doesn't want to startle you. He's a bit distraught; he's really only seen you cry at a sad movie scene before, so he's a bit unsure as to what's caught you to be so upset right now.
"I-I'm sorry..." you manage to mutter through your incoherent sobs and sniffs, effectively ruining the front of his shirt in the process.
"Hey, hey..." His big hands go up to your face, gently cupping your wettened cheeks as he looks into your teary eyes. Hell, the image of you is almost enough to make him break too. "What're you sorry for? You can't help it that you're sick, right?"
The reminder of your lie makes you want to break eye contact in shame, but it's hard to force yourself to lose sight of that soft, caring gaze of his.
"I," sniff, "I lied, I'm so sorry Steve, I-- I'm not sick, I just... I have..."
He watches you expectedly, not upset, just curious. You'd surely have your reasons if whatever caused you to cancel is making you this upset.
"I'm... I'm just on my period and it-- it hurts really bad, it's not even usually this bad, and I felt like I was overreacting and I feel so bad and--" Your ramble gets cut short by his chuckle, the same one that nearly caused you to melt over the phone earlier.
"W-Wha... Why are you laughing?" You're not sure if you should be happy or worried, you're already experiencing so much at once, it's hard to pick one emotion to feel.
"Nothing, it's just, well," he picks up the bag he dropped, opening it slightly to show the bars of chocolate, candy and your favorite chips inside. "I had a feeling."
The sight of it makes you snap out of your state of distress, and you can’t help but crack a smile through your tears. “Seriously? How?”
He shrugs, a sheepish smile adorning his face. “I told you, lover’s intuition.” He pulls you back to him and kisses your head. “There’s another bag in the car with chicken soup in case I was wrong.”
You both laugh, just hugging on your doorstep for a moment. You have to let it sink in, that maybe Steve just is that sweet and considerate of a guy.
“D’you wanna go inside, or does standing outside help with cramps?” He pulls back a little, and you fight the urge to poke him in the ribs for his sarcasm. You love it either way.
“Yeah, let’s go inside. We can watch When Harry Met Sally and I can cry my eyes out again. Sound good?”
“Sounds perfect.”
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#tysm for the ask!#stevemath#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader fluff#steve harrington x fem#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington writing#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington drabble#steve harrington comfort#serpentwithatardis#aster replies
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the range — kinktober day one
word count: 3.5k (i got carried away lol)
warnings/kinks: harddom!heeseung, sexworker!heeseung, sub!reader, language, oral (m. receiving), protected sex, squirting, degradation, a little praise, fingering, spanking, pet names, dirty talk pls feel free to let me know if i missed anything!!
author's note: long time no see! i'm back for kinktober. i'm really trying to work on being active on here, after kinktober i hope i can accomplish just that. i hope you all enjoy my upcoming works for this month!!
you had heard about this place a few halloween's back— you hadn't expected it to reopen this year, giving you again another chance to go. the reviews were good but there was no way of seeing exactly what you should expect when going in.
all you friends pushed you to go, not that any of them had been before either, but they thought it'd help you let loose a little. you were just questioning yourself nonstop, mind switching between going and not going. you thought, maybe this could be a little fun...
tonight was halloween night, a ticket had to be bought within 24 hours of your arrival, so you rushed to your computer yesterday morning and bought one for yourself. you dressed up in a strapless tight leather dress, fishnets hugging your legs. it was basic, yes, but you looked hot, and your besties thought so too when you sent a picture to the groupchat.
walking into the attraction had your heart racing. the main area to scan your ticket was a small booth right before the entrance to the actual building. a lady sat there, face speaking for itself, saying she's bored and over it. you had to sign a waiver which honestly freaked you the fuck out, what happens in there other than a good fuck?
when entering, it was pretty loud. smoke filled the small hallways; lights were flashing brightly. you didn't know what you were supposed to do or where you were supposed to go.
it was a good two minutes when you finally heard footsteps right behind you. before you could even turn, a hand was placed over your mouth to mumble your screams and you were yanked through this curtain that hid a door right behind it. once you got into the room, it was decorated as if you were in a horror film. the hands on you let you go but still didn't turn you around. you felt shaky, all of this was so new—so unexpected.
"you're a pretty little thing, aren't ya'?" the man spoke, placing his cold hands on the back of your thighs, fingers running between the spaces left from your fishnets. he breathes heavily, almost like he's hungry, as he felt around your body.
you hadn't even gotten a good look at his face, wanting to know the face of the guy who was about to fuck you crazy. for a second you had hesitated to turn, but you finally did and looked up into his eyes. the only thing that had been on his face were two fake smile cuts— blooding dripping from them, he was attractive though, no kidding. you couldn't get enough of the way he looked down at you, still wearing his acting face and trying his best to continue portraying this character while you're still in front of him looking like that.
"did i tell you to turn and look at me?" he asked. no, but you wanted to.
"i— i just wanted to see what you looked like..." you replied, feeling so small with all the dominance he carried.
"does it matter? you're not gonna see it while i'm fucking you, you can barely see with these lights anyways."
"but— i saw enough," heeseung was a nice guy in real life, this character though was the complete opposite— aggressive, rough, overly dominant and so on. having to keep going on with this facade when you said things that had him blushing and instead of treating you like a princess, he'd be treating you like a slut.
"on your knees," he said through gritted teeth.
right away you were kneeling before him, face to face with his bulge and looking up. he held your chin to tilt your head up a little bit further. "what an obedient slut," he chuckled airy and let go of your face.
you watched as his hands trailed down to fiddle with his button and zipper of his black jeans. the feeling of excitement filled you and it caused a pool to form in the lace fabric you wore.
the minute heeseung pulled his cock out you didn't even get to give a reaction before he was forcing himself inside your mouth. you hummed lightly, loving the way he tasted on your tongue. he watched your head move forward without his help, watching the dirty sight and listening to your moans in satisfaction.
heeseung threw his head back, exposing his pretty neck you were so aching to mark, "fuck," he let out softly followed by a few pants.
his hands move to the back of your head, fingers tangling into your hair and gripping onto it tight. the sting sent to your scalp added a whole new feel of pleasure, nothing was being done to you, yet you were making more noises than heeseung was.
your eyes had closed just a little while ago and once you opened them and look back up, you make eye contact with the man. he squints and tilts his head a bit, that being enough to intimidate you and closing your eyes yet again.
"ah— nope, look at me," heeseung says, demanding voice deep and raspy.
you hesitantly open your eyes again and look up into his eyes. heeseung pushes himself deeper down into your throat, holding you there until your nose was almost kissing his pelvis. tears filled your water line, and you let out very few choking noises before he was pulling out fully removing himself, thank god for your lack of a gag reflex.
his heavy cock hung right in front of your face, your black lipstick leaving one single ring around the base, "look at how good you take it, so messy— just how i like it."
heeseung rubbed his tip between your lips, glossing the precum all over them. the aching between your legs just seemed to grow and it wasn't like you could tell him to hurry up, that'll just piss him off. he didn't like being rushed, plus he was control right now.
everything had happened so quick, one minute you were on the floor and the next you were being thrown onto the bed— fishnets ripped and underwear at your knees. the leather hugging your body had barely moved and heeseung just needed to see more, see how your ass moved against him and your hips rocking back and forth.
"you're so wet darling, who's got you all worked up?" he asked, a evil chuckle following.
you hadn't answered, too afraid to speak if you were being honest and heeseung didn't appreciate that. a sharp slap was sent to your ass, and you jumped, gasping but enjoyed the sting.
"i asked a question, don't start acting up now," he sounded hot every time he spoke, if only you could see his face right now.
hands gripped onto your hips, eyes trailing down your body and falling in love with the view. with the amount of shifts he's worked here and all the people he has fucked he had never been so into a customer like he was into you.
"you, you did—" you finally say.
"good, you speak," he says, "now keep going with that pretty mouth of yours."
two of his long slender fingers plunged into you, curling and sending this new shockwave throughout your body. an exaggerated moan left your mouth, you hadn't remembered the last time you felt someone else's fingers but yours and it feel amazing.
"you're sucking them right in, doll," heeseung comments. his fingers moved steadily, a twist of his wrist every now and then.
his digits were nearly soaked from you, not like he really minded anyways. if anything, he thought it was hot you were this wet for him, dripping from his fingers and making all these noises.
screams, moans, and the faint sound of the spooky music they had playing could be heard— along with the smoke machines and buzzing of lights, yet your moans were all heeseung could focus on.
"shi— more, please more," you begged.
heeseung couldn't resist, making enough space to add another one of his fingers and move faster. each thrust of them became rougher and had you clawing at the sheets. he did so well, and of course he knew what he was doing, he worked here for a reason.
"good god, you're so tight," heeseung bent down to press a kiss to the back of your thigh, licking up the arousal that had dripped down and groaning from the satisfying taste, "and you taste so good."
all he could think about now was how he wanted to go raw on you and feel the way you clench around his cock tight, barely allowing him to move, but it was a requirement that the workers use protection in order not to catch nor spread anything. it made him grow this irritation because he really just wanted to know how you felt— and even filling you up with him cum and watching it leak from you, though he knew he couldn't do that, the thought just didn't go away.
"wish i could fill you up, but i'm afraid i can't doll," he says, disappoint heard in his voice.
you wondered why, then remembered what you had read on the contract about the protection rules. to feel his load was only something you could imagine, now you wondered if you would see him again, run into him and flashback to this night. he'd take you back to his place, or even yours and you could finally see his face clearly, clear of the fake scars and being able to actually see it in the light.
"you'd probably take it so well, huh?" he asked. you hum and wiggle your hips, moving them side to side to add to the pleasure, "what a proud cumslut."
that familiar knot tightened up in your stomach and your bud throbbing, aching for the attention. if you would have reached back what if heeseung slapped your hand away and denied you of any contact? which is exactly what he did when you tried.
you tighten around his fingers and feeling your mind getting fuzzy, heeseung pushing you closer and closer to your high.
"i— i'm close," you moan out.
"so quick?" again, you moan out but in embarrassment.
it just felt so good, how could he blame you? with each thrust of his fingers and jerk of his hand, it was only a matter of time before you soaked the both of you. heeseung watched as you squirted, twisting and turning his fingers roughly inside you as you did.
"didn't know you could do that," he said, smirk plaster on his face.
his fingers were out of you after being trapped in for so long, your hips collapsing trying to get some rest but heeseung wasn't done. and he wasn't giving breaks.
your hips were soon propped back up, heeseung placing your knees on the bed. he needed to fuck you now, feel every part of you. he nearly forgot to get protection due to how distracted he got watching you drench his fingers and clothing like that— your cum running down the back of your thighs, oh was it a sight.
heeseung grabbed the condom that usually was left on the nightstands, grabbing and removing it from the package. he stripped himself from his jacket and his shirt that was wet because of you, rolling the latex slowly onto the head and down his shaft.
"hurry and fuck me," you say, with a wiggle of your hips just barely hitting the head of his cock with your heat.
"you're an impatient little bitch," heeseung rolls your dress up to your waist, sending an aggressive slap on your ass—making you flinch. he held onto your hips tightly before pushing himself in, the sound of him hissing behind you at the feeling made you clench tighter around him, "sucking me right in, how fuckin' pretty?"
heeseung's hips started at a slow pace, a small whimper leaving your lips as he filled you to the brim, so easily controlling you with everything he did and every word he spoke. as his pace started to grow faster, your hands clenched onto the comforter—feeling all of him, inch by inch.
"m'gonna abused this sweet pussy of yours, darling." he smacks your ass harder and began pistoning into you. each stroke went deeper and deeper, splitting you open like no one has before.
you moan loud, all the wet sounds and skin slapping overpowering the loudness of the smoke machines, other women's screams, and anything else that made noise outside of this room, "how are you so fucking big?" you struggled to ask, genuinely wondering how someone could be the size he was but fit so perfectly inside you.
"it's a blessing, i guess," he shrugged, knowing how cocky that sounded but it just played into his character.
he continued to pound into you and letting out the nastiest of groans, getting lost inside you. never in the two years he's been working here as he ever felt like this before. it was always nothing but a fuck, a paycheck, and then going home after fucking girls back-to-back, but you... he could fuck you without your money even being involved. you were a goddess in his eyes, and the slutty costume you wore didn't help him control his thoughts.
heeseung pulls out of you, manhandling you onto your back, yanking your panties down from your knees and discarding them then pulling your dress up more. your legs spread for him instinctively and his cock filled you back up immediately. heeseung watched how your body reacted to him—fucking you with sharper thrusts this time.
"pretty girl, give me another?" he hovered over you, bringing one of your legs up to your chest. you nod in response, heeseung smirking as you let out another moan, "good, i want us drenched."
as time went on, and heeseung's movements only got faster—you felt yourself being pushed further to the edge. ear splitting squeals left your throat and soon you were cumming fast and hard. heeseung pulled out, fingers immediately traveling down to your clit and rubbing harshly throughout your orgasm. heeseung's torso was now dripping, the picture of his state locked in your mind.
"fuck baby, can you do it again for me?" heeseung asked, fingers still toying with you bud gently causing you to jerk up into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut and letting out and mumbled whimper, "please?"
that made something in you snap. you felt so obedient, so needy and it was all for him. you nodded to the best of your ability, heeseung grinned the second you did. something about his sinister makeup made him so incredibly attractive in a way, so much more dominate.
he stood back up straight, positioning himself to slide back into you with ease. your back arched off the bed giving heeseung a chance to slip one of his arms under you and hold you in place. his body was pressed against yours, his hips beginning to move again.
moans spilled out of you, you were just too sensitive and already worn out—anything you did you had no control of in the moment. you felt like a toy for him to use, which wasn't a bad idea at all, infact you were hoping he'd treat you as just that.
heeseung looked at your scrunched up face and open mouth, letting out the prettiest sounds he had ever heard. he plants a kiss on your chin, trailing them down to your neck and your collarbone, leaving a few marks behind.
"i could fuck you all night until you pass out," he mumbled against your skin.
you clenched around him at the thought of him using your body until you were putty in his hands, "i-i think i will s-soon if you make me cum again," you stuttered, your sentence causing him to giggle, "and i-isn't there a ti-time limit-t?"
"am i not the worker?" heeseung asked, looking into your eyes with his dark gaze, "if i'm having a good time i can do whatever the hell i please... meaning if i wanna fuck you for hours on end and make you squirt over and over again, then i will do so." he goes on to explain.
you weren't sure if he was still in character—saying the things he'd say to any of the girls that came to the range, or if he got so lost in the moment that he forgot he was supposed to be acting for the sake of good tips and instead meant every last word he said.
heeseung thrusted up hard into you, getting closer to his orgasm. he felt so pussy drunk, he was feeling dizzy and his hips began having a mind of their own. you felt his free hand coming to toy with your clit again, rubbing like he was trying to get you to cum messy and fast again.
"f-fuck, fuck i'm gonna cum~" you cried out. heeseung chuckles devilishly, leaning down to lick across your jawline and then whisper into your ear.
"be a good slut, make me cum and i'll make you," he whispered.
you whine, clenching down onto him, your eyes snapping shut as you tried to hold on—hoping he was close. his slender fingers slide up and down along your soaked core, pounding into you until he released. you had only wished it was actually inside you. the thought itself made your hips twitch and you were cumming again—this one hitting a lot harder than the previous ones.
both you and heeseung's moans synced with one another, feeling sticky from sweat and cum. you stayed like this for a while as you tried catching your breath. heeseung's body had collapsed onto top of yours, his hips still slowly moving.
once he had finally got up, he wiped his abs clean using a folded towel left on the nightstand—tying his condom and throwing it into the trash.
"made you break character," you comment, chuckling afterwards.
heeseung laughs at you as he got dressed, kneeling down to pat your inner thighs dry. you examined your thighs as he did so, dripping from your many intense orgasms, ripped fishnets and flushed skin from the amount of harsh skin on skin contact.
"you're fucking amazing, my favorite customer by far," heeseung comments, collecting your panties as he was still on the ground and handing them to you.
"yeah?" you asked, leaning back on your hands and spreading your legs a little further, earning a smirk from the man between them, "better than all those other whores you screwed?"
heeseung stood up, throwing the towel into a different bin—an airy chuckle escaping his throat, "you're the best whore i've screwed, baby." he admits.
you hum, leaning forward and looking up at him with big eyes, "you tell all your customers that?"
heeseung upperhalf bends down, your chin ending up between his fingers, "only the pretty ones, and they don't come often," he says, forcing your head up slightly—lips so close to his, "you're different though. i like how your body reacts."
he lets go of you, holding his hand out to help you to your feet. you take it, pulling your dress back down once you did finally get up. your legs felt weak, your entire body felt weak, and your brain was still trying to process what the hell just happened.
"not to mention you know how to suck dick like no other," he adds as you were trying to fix yourself before you walked out that door, "should come back again, can't promise you'll get me next time though."
"what if i don't want anyone else next time?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.
all he does is smirk before placing his hand on the doorknob, "i'll just tell my coworkers to keep their hands off of you until i find you." he says as he opens the door for you, "you have a goodnight now...i need to get back into character. you fucked me up."
you smile before saying goodbye, walking out of the door and through the curtain. you walk down the hallway you originally entered the room from and went back to the front to collect your belongings.
"how much would you like to tip?" the lady behind the booth asked.
once you got your purse back, you pulled out a 50 and gave it to her. her eyes widened when she took it into her hands, looking back up at you, "good time huh?"
you nod, giving her a soft smile before grabbing your things and walking away from the building. it was almost an internal instinct to grab your phone and call your best friend.
the phone only rung twice before yunjin answered, "hello?" she spoke.
"hey..." you said lowly. she didn't know what to make of it. either you hadn't gone, or you did, and it was a disappointment.
"oh my god, did you not go through with it?" yunjin asked, you could hear shuffling on the other side of the line.
you chuckle, still walking to the parking lot, "no...no i went through with it alright."
"well, what are you waiting for? spill!" yunjin said, urging you to share your experience.
you thought back to what had just taken place in that building behind you five minutes ago, wanting to say fuck it and start running back and pay extra just so you could see heeseung again.
"the guy i was with was so fucking hot, jen. i'm telling you right now, that is the best sex i've had in a minute." you admitted.
"see! we told you it'd be fun," she says, you could just tell she was smiling as she said that, "did you get his number?"
"unfortunately, no," you said with a frown as you approached your car, unlocking it and getting in, "but i think i'll be coming back soon."
#heeseung smut#lee heeseung smut#heeseung imagines#lee heeseung imagines#enhypen smut#enhypen imagines#enha smut#enha imagines#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kinktober
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-levels of possessiveness-
Include malleus draconia, lilia vanrouge, rook hunt, kalim al asim and Jamil Viper
‼️⚠️ : gn!Reader,I haven't proof read it yet, mentions of chapter 7 npc's names on lilias part, might be come out as yandere tendencies than possessiveness...
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- kalim al asim -
• I know some of you gonna disagree with me, BUT HEAR ME OUT OKAY
• since he was a little kid he always get what he wanted right?
• why wouldn't get this one ?
• YOU GET THE IDEA RIGHT HEHEHEHE
• hm? Oh u want to go out by urself? No way hahahah, take jamil with you~ or u want me to accompany you?
• Ooooo waitt sweety dont do the chores :(( ur hand will get hurt by that, just let the maid do it for you okayy?? Oh you felt sorry for him?? For working alone? oh dont worry baba(father) will recuit the maids tmr hhe
- jamil Viper -
• this one are not very surprising
• jamil didn't really get the chance to have something in life that really his on the first place
• so, when he finally did and someone are trying to take it away from him he get really possessive over it
• he can protect kalim all the time so... He faced by almost 0 problem trying to protect you
" Jamil.. What is that?? Can we get that? " You asked him
" I can make more healthier version of it at home, are you okay with that dear? " He speak " And uh...look, dear the cooking oil that there using, it's already black soo that mean they have been using it multiple time without changing it, I wouldn't want you to eat that not-very-healty oil I'm I?" He carefully explains to you
You can sigh to him " Okay... "
" Good, let's head back I'll make it for you" He smiled sweetly to you
- lilia vanrouge -
• lmao do I need to explain??
• he is a fae
• and already lived a long life
• he knows the pain of losing people he loved dearly mallenoa.. Malleus mother and malleus father...
• so naturally he didn't want to get hurt by that feeling again of course.
• that's why he get very possessive of you
• if you're a long lived creature you might see him be not so possessive towards you because he knows he had a lot of time to spend with you.
• BUT, if you're a human... He *sigh* yeah you know the rest
" My dearie" Lilia calls for you
" Where have youve been?? " He added
" Oh, lilia I just got back from heartslabyul actually, just meet adeuce " You explain while giggling
" Hm, why lying my dear" He glares to you, while flying closer to you
" What.. No what do you mean Lilia! " You panic a little bit because what he just say to you
"Fufu.. My lovely dear... Don't lie to me okay? I know everything going on in your life " He say gently while He stroke your hair
- malleus draconia -
• HE IS A DRAGON.
• dragon are KNOWN to be a possessive creature sooo what makes you think he is any different
• he probably lock u up somewhere if he want to lmao
• not only a normal dragon but he is a dragon with POWERS he is the crowns prince to the Briar valley soooo
• he basically can do whatever he wants lol
• good luck if you catches his eyes lmao he might never let you go until your funeral, keyword MIGHT
- idia shroud -
• aaa this wired boy
• lacking basic human interaction and affection wwww
• in my eyes he would either be
• no please don't leave me boy or don't leave me or ill kms / destroy all of it
• WOULD STALK U, he probably hack into the campus CCTV just to check what are you doing currently
• asking ortho to follow you and assist you with everything you need
• would probably sends anonymous deaths threats to any guy who are flirting with you
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More of my fics
An : I'm kinda ashamed by this lol, but Ill post it anw, I'll add more in the future but this is it for now 😂😂😂
#lilia vanrouge x reader#lilia x reader#twisted wonderland lilia#twst lilia#lilia vanrouge#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#malleus draconia#twst malleus#twisted wonderland malleus#malleus x reader#malleus draconia x reader#idia shroud x reader#idia shroud#idia x reader#twst idia#twisted wonderland idia#jamil viper#twst jamil#twisted wonderland jamil#jamil x reader#jamil viper x reader#kalim al asim#twst kalim#twisted wonderland kalim#kalim x reader#kalim al asim x reader
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Hey, I’m glad you’re back!! I’m the anon who asked about the making skz squirt, if you could elaborate more on it I’d really appreciate that!! I’m sorry if the sound wierdly formal lol I don’t really know how to do asks hah😅
thank u babe it’s great to be back!! and no worries at all ur perfectly fine <3 i ended up writing lil drabbles abt chan, lix, n lino based on this ask!
chan (fingering, handjob, multiple orgasms)
Chan was panting. Mouth hanging open, spilling out drool with each labored breath. Chest heaving, glazed with a mix of his sweat and his seed. Each gulp of oxygen was barely enough to satiate him when all the blood in his system was rushing to his hypersensitive length. It left his brain foggy, filled with nothing but you. Your observant gaze setting his skin on fire, your sweet voice lulling him into orgasm after orgasm, your fingers curling methodically inside him, your hand working his cock with a careful grip and a merciless pace.
“Hah, f-fuck!” he choked out. “Oh, God…close, ‘m close.”
You tightened your grip around his cock just as you slid down to its hilt, squeezing it with a force that made his hips surge up. His stomach, splattered with load after load of his cum, clenched wildly as his high drew near once again. He’d lost track of how many times he’d finished already, he’d lost track of anything but the sound of your gentle whispers, promising that you just wanted one more from him. Just one more.
“Please—ah—gonna cum again. Can I? P-please, can I?”
You cooed out loud. Even now, he found a way to make your heart swell in your chest. You’d pushed him well past his usual limit by now—to the point where every muscle in his body was pulsing with exhaustion, to the point where you were surprised he still had anything left in his system each time his seed spurted out of him—and yet, here he was, still remembering to ask you for permission. If both your hands hadn’t been occupied, you would’ve reached out to cup his face affectionately, to run your thumbs over his flushed cheeks and steady the thrashing of his head.
“Got even more for me, Channie?” you murmured. “Such a little giver, aren’t you? You can cum, baby, let it all out.”
Chan keened, his dulcet voice now deliciously hoarse from how much he’d strained it, crying out louder and louder with every new climax he reached. He was far too dizzy to even think about holding it back anymore. You watched with gleaming eyes as he emptied onto his stomach yet again, cock twitching in your palm and walls fluttering around your fingers. There was noticeably less to his release this time, just a few, short ropes spilling from his swollen tip to form a pearly pool at his belly button.
“That’s it, good boy,” you encouraged him. “Look at all that. You’re working so hard for me, huh, angel?”
Your praises anchored him and sent him further into a daze all at once, amplifying each ripple of pleasure that passed through his body. Carefully, you unwrapped your hand from around his aching length to give him a chance to catch his breath, to find his way down from his high and back to you. It took nearly a minute of sharp gasps and shuddering exhales for him to finally find the strength to respond, nodding weakly up at you.
“Doing okay?” he rasped. “Good for you?”
“So good, Channie.” You reached out with your free hand to pet his head, brushing his sweat-soaked curls from his face, soothing the near-delirium creeping up on his consciousness. “My baby's so strong. Taking it all so well, pushing his pretty body to the limit for me.”
A sweet, shy hum built up in the back of Chan’s throat, the laziest of smiles tugging at his lips as he leaned into your hand. You stayed that way for a moment, letting him bask in a touch that—unlike everything else he’d felt for well over an hour—wasn’t designed to set his nerve-endings ablaze. Just as he let his guard down, nuzzling fully into your palm, he felt your other pair of fingers shift suddenly inside of him. Not to pull out completely, rather, to readjust, pressing back against his sweet spot with a fresh lather of lube. It made his breath hitch, and he blinked his eyes open in confusion when the comfort of your hand on his cheek was suddenly lost, pulling away to trail over his tummy instead.
You flattened your palm against it without warning, pressing down on his toned muscles, smearing around the blend of sweat and cum to create a sinful coating over his skin. A full-body shudder ran through him, stomach tightening and hips twisting under your touch. You watched him writhe around in the sheets, relishing in the contracting of his muscles, the stickiness of the fluids, how they painted his body like he was your own personal canvas. Dragging your fingers down the ridges of his abs, you scooped up a portion of his cum and brought your hand back to his length.
Chan hiccuped, shrinking away reflexively, still far too fragile to handle any kind of stimulation. You curled your fingers around him, unfazed as you spread his own seed along his cock.
"Wait—mmph—I thought," he squeaked. "I-I thought...you said—"
“I know, baby. But look how excited you still are.” You gave him a quick, single pump, and he jolted. "I think you’ve got a little more for me, yeah? Just one more, can you do that, Channie?"
A whine met your ears, so rife with desperation that it pooled fresh heat within you. "I..." he sucked in a sharp breath as you began to stroke him again, delicately running all the way down from the swollen head of his cock to its base, already feeling it begin to harden again in your palm. "O-oh, please."
"You’ll do it for me, right? Channie's such a good boy, I know you can take it.”
“M-mm. Good boy,” Chan repeated quietly, eyes going half-lidded, like the words were enough to pull him into a trance. “Yeah, ‘m a good boy. I can do it for you—ah—I’ll do anything.”
You pushed your fingers deeper inside of him and curled up into the tender flesh, purring in approval. “My good boy. My strong boy, always taking whatever I give him.” Your words of adoration paired with the drag of your hands washed his head clear of any concerns, each gentle praise giving him the energy he needed to keep going. “Gonna treat you so good for this, angel.”
He squeezed his eyes shut with a whimper, so overwhelmed by all the different sensations at play that he couldn’t find it in him to absorb his surroundings anymore, to process anything other than the relentless pleasure creeping back up on him. The warm friction of your fist engulfing his cock, the embarrassing squelching sounds that came with every pump—from the lube, from his own cum smearing all over his length—the fullness of your fingers burrowing inside of him. He was already so sensitive under normal circumstances, but now, after being drained over and over to his very last drop, his reactions were more heightened than ever. Every little touch was enough to make him feel like he might burst, sending him closer to the edge at an alarming rate.
Chan’s thighs tensed, teeth sinking into his lower lip to muffle a high-pitched moan as you rolled your palm along his dripping head at the very same instant the pads of your fingers teased his sweet spot.
“Oh, my gosh. Oh, God th-that’s—”
“Good?” you giggled. “You’re so easy, baby. Just a few touches and you’re ready to be used again. Bet I could play with you for the rest of the night if I wanted.”
He could only respond with a broken whine, not trusting himself to speak when his voice was sure to come out as a garbled mess. He clenched tightly around you as you repeated the action, sucking your slick fingers further inside of him, wordlessly begging for what he was too shy to say.
You gave an appreciative hum, admiring the way his spent body was still reacting so eagerly, so willing to endure it as many times as it might take to satisfy you. “Just like that, Channie. Keep it up, okay? Gonna milk my pretty boy dry.”
His mouth fell open again, face scrunching up as you curled over his prostate with more vigor, setting off another jolt of electricity through his veins. You swirled your thumb rhythmically around his slit for good measure, delighted by the way his hands flew out, releasing his death grip on the sheets in search of you.
“Ah, ah!” he gasped. “Gonna…‘m close, gettin’ close again!”
Chan’s features twisted into a look of pure desperation, eyes still sealed tight as he mindlessly grasped around for you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, s’ good. Feels…f-feels…”
“Feels?” you echoed sweetly.
“Good, ngh…'s weird. Think s-something’s gonna—ah! Too much!”
His warning yelp caught you off guard, softening you with concern the moment you were able to properly make out what he was trying to say. But just as you prepared to pause and check on him, Chan’s hips surged up fiercely, lifting his back off the mattress in a movement that only pressed your fingers harder into the roof of his walls. His whole body stiffened, frozen in a mesmerizing arch.
A near-sob escaped him as his orgasm hit—somehow, harder and more all-consuming than any of his previous ones combined. It sent a shiver down your spine to hear the sound ring out shamelessly through the room. Somewhere in the back of Chan’s mind, he faintly registered that the filthy cry echoing in his ears was coming from him, but in that moment, he was far too preoccupied with the intensity of what he was experiencing to care. How the muscles in his abdomen spasmed completely out of his control, how the pleasure that seared through him was so euphoric that it was almost unbearable.
And he was wet. Not just from his perspiration, not just from all the cum you’d smeared on his skin; something thinner, warmer, wetter—and it was everywhere.
You watched in awe as his release shot out of him with a force you’d never seen before, clear fluid spraying all over his stomach, his chest, even reaching as far as his shoulders and neck. It dripped down his rosy cheeks, droplets falling from his tilted jaw and dribbling along the curve of his pecs. Chan seemed to realize midway through that there was definitely something abnormal about the sheer extremity of his climax, because his muscular thighs squeezed around you, trying frantically to close in on each other and put a stop to whatever was happening. His arms flew up to cross over his drenched chest, a weak attempt to hide away what was sure to be a humiliating sight.
When your eyes fell to his heaving stomach, catching sight of the streams traveling along his toned muscles, you felt your own core tighten with arousal. His walls pulsed around your fingers with each spurt, still clenching erratically even as the last few waves of his orgasm had passed through his weary body, like the strength of it was too much to be contained.
As tentatively as you could, you unwrapped your hand from around his cock, allowing it to fall limp against the puddle of fluids on his tummy. Chan’s labored breaths gradually began to even out, only interrupted by a soft, shaky whimper when you removed your fingers from the slippery heat of his hole.
“You made a mess,” you whispered.
Despite the exhaustion creeping up on his senses, Chan’s reaction was immediate. His hazy eyes snapped open, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over him as he processed the scene in front of him—the soiled bed, your dripping hand, the juices covering his stomach. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his body to feel any hotter, but the filthy sight instantly proved him wrong, engulfing him with shame.
“Oh my gosh,” he wailed, hands trembling as they came to cover his soaked face. “Oh my God, I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry.”
You ran your fingers along his thigh with a feather-light touch, careful not to overstimulate him any further. “Shh, don’t apologize, Channie. Look how well you did for me,” you soothed him. “You let it all out, just like a good boy should.”
He whimpered into his palms, unconvinced, completely and utterly mortified by the display he’d just put on for you. His body had never reacted like that before—he hadn’t even known it was possible for it to react like that.
“Th-this is so embarrassing. ‘M sorry,” he mumbled. Disoriented, he scrambled around in the wet sheets, trying to force himself upright. “I’ve n-never…oh my God. 'M so sorry, I’ll clean it up—”
“Easy, baby.” You reached out to rest your hand over his chest, feeling his heart pounding under your palm as you gently nudged him back against the mattress. “You’re exhausted. Lie down, let me take care of you.”
Despite Chan’s soft whine of protest, he didn't resist much before complying, falling back against the pillows with a heavy thump. With how fast his head was spinning, coupled with the way his limbs felt like they’d been reduced to jelly, he wasn’t even sure how he’d expected himself to stand, anyway.
Your weight lifted from the bed, leaving him weary in his own mess, still trying to get his breathing under control. His embarrassment didn't die down the entire time you were gone, nor did the adrenaline coursing through his veins. But when you returned with the gentle press of a washcloth against his skin, his muscles finally began to relax, replacing the hot shame in his skin with a comforting warmth.
"You really gave me everything, huh?" you marveled, dabbing tenderly at the fluids drying on his skin. "I'm so proud of you, baby."
Chan murmured something weakly in response, eyelids beginning to droop again as his fatigue from the past hour finally caught up to him. Even if you couldn't make out his slurred reply, you knew one thing for sure. When Chan said that he would do anything for you, he meant anything.
felix (mirror sex, handjob, overstimulation)
You could tell Felix was nervous. Stuck in his head, not entirely there with you.
His sounds came more restrained than usual—breathless moans cut short in his throat, like he couldn't allow himself to indulge for too long. His eyes were wide open and alert, a pair of dark, gleaming full moons, not daring to flutter shut and lean fully into the pleasure you were drawing out of him with each stroke. They flickered around between his reflection and the view of you curled around his body from behind. Legs draped over his thighs to hold them apart with your own, head peeking out from behind him to observe his every twitch and shiver, arms wrapped around his waist as you toyed with his cock.
He looked lost, like a bunny in the woods. Trapped, but still unsure whether he was in any danger or not. All he really knew was that he didn't want to escape.
He cursed under his breath as you picked up the pace of your pumps, a low, rumbling vocalization that added to the flutter of excitement in both your stomach and his. "How is it, Lixie?" You brought your lips close to his ear, brushing against its shell just enough to make goosebumps rise on the back of his neck.
"Ah, good." He furrowed his brows together, adorably concentrated. "Feels really good, th-thank you."
You let out another light puff of air, warm breath fanning over his skin, tickling his hair. "You're holding out on me,” you pouted. “Want me to stop?"
Felix clenched his jaw, stiffening against you. "N-no, please. I really want it. Don't stop touching me, please."
He panicked slightly as your hand slowed its steady pace, an unconvinced hum spilling directly from your lips into his ear, thickening the cloud of lust his mind. "What's got you so tense, angel? You're like a deer in headlights."
His gaze landed back on the sight of himself in the mirror; freckled skin dusted pink, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, lean frame encased snugly with your limbs, but still so rigid. You rested your chin on his shoulder, following his wandering stare, and he nearly squeezed his thighs together when you both caught the sight of his cock, flushed red and throbbing in the cage of your fingers. You didn’t doubt that he would’ve closed his legs completely if yours weren’t prying them apart. Instead, he turned his head to the side; suddenly embarrassed.
“It’s cute,” you giggled, giving his length a playful squeeze. As if to prove your point, it jerked in your grasp, pulsing with another burst of arousal. “That’s not what you’re stressing about, is it, baby?”
Felix swallowed, your simple compliment adding to the coil tightening in his core more than it probably should’ve. “No,” he rasped quietly. “Just…ah. Just wanna make sure I can do this for you. What if I can’t?”
You dragged your fingers along the underside of his dick, taking satisfaction in the ripple you felt pass through his back muscles where they were pressed firmly against your chest. “If it doesn’t work, I still get to see my pretty boy cum,” you reasoned. “Worth it either way, right?”
It was his turn to giggle, quiet and sheepish. Still not fully relaxed, but he at least found the confidence to lift his timid gaze and meet yours in the mirror. His eyes were already so big, so keen, under normal circumstances, but now, blown wide with desire, they captivated you more than ever. Deceptively innocent. They’d shone the exact same way when he’d first asked if you could make this happen, like a curious kitten itching to explore uncharted territory.
He trusted you wholeheartedly to satisfy that curiosity, to work the ins and outs of his body better than he ever could and take him to heights that he could only dream of. He’d practically beamed when you’d agreed to it. So eager, so grateful. The desire was still there burning within him—stronger than ever, actually, when he could feel his high inch closer and closer each time your hand sank down on his cock. He just hadn’t anticipated the apprehension that his thoughts would create along with it. He didn’t want to disappoint you.
“Don’t think so hard about it, Lixie.” You pressed a soothing kiss to his temple. “Empty your cute little head and just focus on feeling good."
Felix let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding, shoulders slumping slightly, fingers uncurling from their nervous grip on the sheets. With an obedient nod, he allowed himself to loosen up, spurred on by your other hand coming to drift gently down his abdomen, stroking his stomach muscles up and down in a hypnotic rhythm.
"I’ll take care of it all, make sure to make my baby cum just right.”
You pressed another kiss to his cheek as he tilted his head back to rest it on your shoulder, melting into you, toned back relaxing fully against the softness of your chest. Little by little, you peppered his face with calming pecks, relishing in the warmth of his skin, the race of his pulse under your lips. Each soft, wet pucker made his head spin a little more, and he cocked it obediently to the side when you trailed along his jawline down to his neck. Combined with the friction building up on his cock and the playful dancing of your fingers along his abs, it quickly became difficult for him to focus on anything else. Just as you’d coaxed him to do, he stopped thinking for himself.
His mouth fell open to spill out a breathy groan when you paused your pumping to focus on the tip of his cock instead. It was noticeably louder—sweeter without his teeth clamping down to suppress it this time. You curled your fingers around his swollen head, using the precum that had leaked out to add an intoxicating slickness to your movements.
Your eyes gleamed in the mirror, a purr of approval vibrating against Felix’s neck when his thighs jumped under yours, hips bucking into your hand in a plea for more.
“That’s my boy. See how nice it is to let go?” your tongue flicked out to glide carefully up his neck, making his length throb in your palm, harder this time. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, baby. You don't need to think for that."
The last of your words came out muffled as you sank your teeth hungrily into his skin, but Felix still absorbed each one, filling up the blank space in his mind. Your lips closed around his flesh to create a hot, delicious suction, and you had to push back a smile when you felt another shudder run through his body.
"Ah, please. ‘S good, g-gonna—”
He cut himself off with a sharp inhale as you rolled your palm around his leaking tip, stimulating every last nerve-ending with your sticky touch.
“Gonna cum for me?”
He gave a frantic nod, hips jerking up again to the best of their ability, chasing the warmth of your fist on pure instinct. But you kept it firmly wrapped around his head, concentrating solely on his most sensitive spot with expert rolls of your wrist to draw out his orgasm much faster and much more vigorously than he was used to. You swirled your tongue over the deep red ring you’d left on his neck, practically tasting the rapid beat of his his heart. That, coupled with the way you pressed down on his abdomen to keep him steady, sent him over the edge in a matter of seconds.
“Close, ‘m close,” he warned. “Fuck, p-please!”
He emptied into your palm with a choked moan, his low voice reverberating all around you and making your own heartrate spike. You dragged your teeth along his skin, amplifying his pleasure as his release shot out of him, coating your hand and dripping down his length.
“I’m not gonna stop,” you mumbled into his skin. “You want it, right? Want me to keep touching you ‘til you spray all over yourself?”
“Fuck, yes, please,” he gasped out. “Don’t stop, please. Ruin me—ngh—mess me up.”
You dragged your hand back down his cock’s base before the last wave of his climax had even passed, spreading the stickiness of his cum wherever your trailed and making him see stars. His voice cracked into a helpless squeak, having no chance to brace himself as you went right back to toying with his sore head. His hips writhed in a frenzy of overstimulation when you pressed your thumb against his slit, making his legs shoot up, thigh muscles contracting so fiercely that you couldn’t hold him down with your own this time.
Another chill ran up your spine as he threw his head back against your shoulder, bunny teeth digging into his bottom lip in weak attempt to hold in his string of curses.
“Gonna get you looking as filthy as your mind is, baby.” You pressed another sloppy kiss to his neck, dragging your lips over his throat as it bobbed with each heavy breath. “C’mon, I know you can do it. Spill it all out for me like a good boy.”
“M-mmph, please,” he whined. It was high-pitched and broken, so different from his usual rich baritone, you had trouble believing the words had come from him for a moment. The initial relief of his climax soon morphed into something more overwhelming, something much less bearable. A painful pang began to accompany each stroke of your hand, but the way it contrasted the nonstop flow of pleasure only pushed him further into bliss. “H-hurts. Hah, hurts s’ good. Please, more.”
You strengthened your grip with a playful click of your tongue as Felix began to squirm around more uncontrollably, his body crying out in protest of what his mind ordered him to do. It was too much and not enough all at once. Every cell in his body said that he couldn’t take any more, but at the same time, he needed it. He needed to feel more than he could bear.
The pleasure of his orgasm never fully ebbed, it only intensified, stretching out into a constant, throbbing ache the more you tortured his cock. There was no gradual build into it this time, no tension tightening little by little in his gut. Just a few more circles drawn into his wet tip, and something ignited deep within him, snapping the final thread.
He couldn’t even think to warn you before it happened, not when he himself wasn’t prepared for the surge of pleasure that burst in his abdomen. It rippled all throughout his stomach and inner thighs, spreading a dizzying heat and making his body thrash under your touch. A sound unlike any you’d ever heard him make before rang out around you. It was a near-shout, oddly cute and shaking pitifully each time he spasmed against you. Your eyes locked on his reflection just in time to see the fluid squirting from his cock, so powerful that it shot past where your thumb was pressed over his slit and spurted into the air.
The moment Felix felt his release splatter against his bare skin, his eyes snapped open, dark and wide, shining with wonder as he took in the sight of himself spraying all over his chest and stomach. The liquid covered your hand completely, dribbling down his pecs and clenching abdomen, splashing on his thighs and soaking into the bed underneath you.
You pressed kisses into his neck without taking your eyes off the mesmerizing display in the mirror, drinking in the roll of his eyes and the hot, red flush that crept up on his skin. He stiffened one last time, emptying the final wave of his release, then collapsed heavily against your chest.
His taut muscles went limp as he tried to catch his breath, a lazy, lopsided smile forming on his face and spilling a trickle of drool from his parted lips.
“Look at you, baby,” you crooned. “You did it.”
You let go of his softening length at last, dragging your soaked hands delicately over his tummy in an effort to wipe them clean. But practically every inch of his skin was dripping with something, and smearing your palms over his skin only added to the sticky mess coating them. Felix stayed panting without a word, eyes hazy and unfocused in the mirror, still smiling like he was lost in a dream.
He nestled into your hand the moment you reached up to run your fingers through his hair, wiping away the beads of sweat that had accumulated. “Are you with me, Lixie?”
“Mmm.” He shifted under your legs with a soft grunt, trying to twist his exhausted body to face you properly. Instead, he slumped uselessly back against you, with so much force that you nearly toppled into the mattress together.
“How are you feeling?” You gave the crown of his head an affectionate tap, and you might’ve sworn it echoed around in his empty mind.
“Nn…” he slurred something incoherent, ending it with ditzy giggle. “You…s’good.”
Fondness made you break out into a smile. You unwrapped your limbs from around him just long enough to help adjust his position, nudging him around so he could fall fully into you, chest to chest. You suppressed a shiver as you felt the fluid that coated his skin begin to seep through your shirt. But neither of you had it in you to care about the mess, not when Felix was still barely floating on the edge of awareness and you were too preoccupied with bringing him back down to earth. He nuzzled into your neck with another fit of giggles, wrapping his arms and legs around you in a grip that was surprisingly tight given how far-gone he was.
“Did it. I did it,” he mumbled through his laughter, airy and uncontrollable, shaking his shoulders with delight. “You touch me so good. Make me feel s’ good.”
You hummed, half-amused, half-endeared as you rested your hand on the back of his head to draw him closer to you. “Cause you deserve it, baby. A good boy like you deserves to feel so good.”
His puffs of laughter faded into a sweet sigh when you pressed a kiss to his hair. It eased your mind a bit that he was at least grounded enough to mirror the action, puckering his lips against the skin of your neck, warm and wet with drool that he tried feebly to suck back into his mouth.
“S’good,” he repeated. His voice was drowsy, sounding mere seconds away from drifting off completely. But even the exhaustion creeping up on his senses couldn’t block out the words that always came.
“Love you.”
lino (pegging, edging, slight feminization)
Minho’s cry was like music to your ears, honey voice tinged with a frustrated rasp as you halted your movements yet again, just seconds away from finally sending him over the edge. His body barely processed the sudden loss of stimulation, cock twitching eagerly against his stomach, like it was expecting to be granted release any moment now.
But it never came. Just another few pitiful drops of precum dripping from his swollen head, forming a sticky puddle on his skin. It delighted you just as much as it drove him crazy.
“A-ah, again?” he whimpered. His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a fit of distress, clawing for purchase to try and press his body further down against your strap. “No, no, no. Why?”
You cooed, watching with an amused smile as he began to grind his hips in an unsteady rhythm, thick thighs squeezing around you, desperate to cling to the remnants of pleasure that were quickly escaping him.
“Putting in work, Lino? Maybe I should keep this up.”
“Not fair, ‘s not fair.” He gave a shaky roll of his body with the hopes of gaining some kind of friction, but it only resulted in another helpless grunt when he couldn’t hit his sweet spot properly. “I didn’t do anything. Why are you being so mean?”
“Quit whining.” You gripped his rocking hips, digging your fingers into his soft flesh to pin him to the mattress. “I just can’t get enough of you, right? So obsessed with my baby that I wanna fuck him for as long as I can.”
The excuse was sickeningly sweet, and even with Minho’s head in a haze, he could hear your taunt in it; throwing his own words back at him. He’d only been teasing you when he’d said them. It wasn’t fair.
“Then don’ stop anymore,” he slurred. “Make me cum over ‘n over, just…j-just lemme…”
He trailed off with another miserable whine, shutting himself up just in time to suppress the plea was building on his tongue. The corners of his lips curled into an irresistible pout as he squirmed restlessly under your hands, aching for even the slightest bit of movement on your part to keep him from losing his last shred of sanity.
“Oh, baby. We both know you couldn’t handle that,” you frowned down at him, a perfect mockery of the pout he was shooting you. Bit by bit, agonizingly slow, you began to pull out, feeling his stomach expand under your palms as he sucked in a sharp breath. “You haven’t even cum once and you can barely speak.”
He hated how the glide of your hips immediately proved your point, fizzling out any response that he scrambled to muster up. Even more than that, he hated how ready he was to accept it. He didn’t want to talk back anymore. It was too hard, too much work. All he wanted was to feel that delicious stretch again, over and over, to be filled to the brim with you. All he wanted was you.
Once you’d eased out so he was left twitching around nothing but the tip of your strap, you surged forward, burrowing back into him all at once. Minho’s whole body jolted, back arching and a gasp tearing from his lips. He was grateful you couldn’t feel just how desperately he was clenching around you, walls tightening around your strap to bask in every inch of it pressed against him.
“It’ll feel even better this way, okay? Promise. All you have to do is lie there and look pretty for me.”
You repeated the action, dragging your hips back leisurely, just enough to earn an impatient whine, then pushing in all the way to the hilt with even more force than before. His eyes shot open as you pressed against his weakest spot, locking on you with a stare so deep, so hungry, that you nearly faltered. He raised his trembling thighs little by little, hooking them properly around your waist to pull you in deeper.
“You—ah—you think ‘m pretty?” he managed a grin. It was lazy, lopsided, the look of someone who knew the answer full well, but still needed to hear it. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heart skip a beat.
“Mm.” You brought a hand to his face, brushing his damp bangs out of his eyes, giving you a full view of just how glazed with desire they’d become. “Pretty enough to put up with.” You moved down his cheeks, trailing over the flushed skin with a care that contrasted your quickening thrusts. “Pretty enough to fuck you so good, even when you don’t deserve it.”
Your fingers rubbed over his glossy lips, tracing their shape, swiping up the saliva that had dribbled out when he spoke. You were surprised he even had any words left in him. By now, he’d usually know nothing but the one he dreaded most, spilling out of him after all the stubbornness had effectively been fucked out of his system. Denying him just a few times was all it took to get him babbling it over and over, apologizing for what he’d done and demanding in the sweetest voice for you to stop being so mean and just give it to him already. Please, please, please.
But Minho was right. Today, he hadn’t done anything wrong, certainly nothing to warrant being edged more times than his foggy mind could count. It was just fun for you to watch him fall apart. His patience had crumbled long ago, and his pride was following suit.
“Gimme, then. Wanna—hah—wanna feel good already,” he demanded weakly. “You think ‘m prettiest like that, right? I know you wanna see me c-cum.”
You gave an especially hard rock of your hips, making Minho’s mouth fall wide open, head tilting back to sink into the pillows. His eyes fluttered shut again when you pushed two of your fingers into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. He sighed softly, a sound of pure relief, plush lips wrapping around the digits instantly and coating them with hot saliva.
“I think you’re prettiest like this,” you murmured. “With your fussy mouth full, taking whatever I give you like a good boy.”
Good boy. It made him shiver. Something he so rarely heard you call him; he couldn't deny how much he craved it, even when he did everything in his power to convince you otherwise. He didn't want to act like a good boy, but he wanted to be treated like one.
Matching the pace of your rocking hips, you began to pump your fingers in and out of his mouth. They glided along his slick tongue and grazed against his bunny teeth, earning a cute, muffled mewl each time you pushed all the way in, right down to your knuckles. The look on Minho’s face was one of pure bliss as he drooled around them, the kind of look you only saw his delicate features form when he was completely full of you, both in body and mind.
“There we go. So much cuter when you’ve got nothing to say,” you purred. “Keep sucking like that, and maybe I’ll give you what you want so bad.”
You adjusted the angle of your hips to snap forward deliberately sharper, brushing the tip of your strap against his prostate and making his stomach twist with pleasure. All at once, that familiar ache made its presence known again. If the way Minho all but sank his teeth into your flesh wasn’t enough to warn you that he was getting close, his choked moan surely was. It rumbled against your fingers, coating them with a fresh layer of spit that sent a chill up your spine.
His hands grasped at the bedsheets in a death grip, veins protruding up his forearms, ankles locking behind you to keep his shaky legs in place. Instead of continuing to pull all the way out of him, you alternated to more shallow thrusts, repeatedly grinding against his sweet spot with barely a moment for him to recover between each jolt of electricity it sent through his senses. You teased his tongue rhythmically with the pads of your fingers, admiring the sinful sight to your heart’s content when his eyes were too busy squeezing shut to glare up at you.
Minho clamped down around you suddenly, so tight that it took extra effort for you to pull out even a little bit. A garbled noise rose in his throat, and it took you a moment to realize that he was trying to say something. You dragged your fingers out of his mouth, much to his discontent, thick strings of drool connecting them to his lips.
“What is it, baby?”
He sucked in a deep breath, swallowing down all the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. “S-say it. Say it again.”
You pulled out inch by inch. “Hm?”
“Call me g’boy,” he whined. “Wan—mmph. Wanna hear you say it again.”
A mischievous smile tugged at your lips just as Minho’s eyes blinked open. You hesitated before indulging him, and that, coupled with your strap remaining motionless halfway inside him, had him writhing around frantically in no time.
“You gotta be a good boy for me to call you one, right? Say please, Lino.”
It was his turn to hesitate, eyebrows furrowing into a desperate scowl. He held back for a split-second too long, gasping pathetically as you rammed back against his prostate.
“Quick baby, before you get too dumb to speak anymore.”
“Ah, please,” he didn’t waste a moment this time before begging. The word was pure honey on his tongue, growing more desperate as you drew your hips back again. “Please, please. Call me g-good boy. Wan’ cum.”
With a hum of approval, you brought your hand, still slick with his spit, down to his cock. You surged back inside him just as you began rubbing your thumb around his head in rapid circles, smearing his precum around and making his brain go haywire.
“Cum for me like a good girl.”
Minho’s entire body went hot. He tensed up beneath you, legs stiffening around your waist, hands bunching the sheets with so much force that his nails dug into the mattress. White, searing pleasure overtook him, rippling through his nerve-endings straight to his cock. It pulsed in your hand, shooting out a stream of fluid that was far more powerful than either of you were used to. Your noise of surprise was completely drowned out by the broken cry he released, sweet voice shaking with every shock of pleasure that passed through him, spraying more fluid all over your skin and his.
You admired each spurt that spilled past your fingers, tilting his length so that his release splashed against his heaving stomach. Minho seemed to notice, vaguely, that something was very much off about the extremity of his climax and the way it was thoroughly drenching his body with some unfamiliar substance. But his jaw had gone slack, unable to get out anything but moan after pitiful moan. He couldn’t even find it in him to open his eyes and process what was going on.
Finally, the last few drops of liquid dribbled from his slit, trickling down his length as it fell limp against his tummy. He was left trembling in the aftershocks, mouth still hanging open, like he’d forgotten how to close it.
You waited until his panting died down into more peaceful breaths, and then you spoke.
“Minho,” you whispered, running your hands gently up his drenched sides. He shuddered under your touch as you pulled out of him, still hypersensitive from the orgasm that had just rocked him to his very core. “Are you okay?”
He could only grunt in response, a reluctant, flustered sound in the back of his throat. Tentatively, you unlatched his spent thighs from around you and rested them against the mattress to allow him to relax his muscles. The cool, wet sensation spreading in the sheets beneath him made his skin burn impossibly hotter, and he turned his head to the side, giving you a clear view of his red ears.
“Talk to me, baby, can you do that?”
Minho softened a bit as your hand came to brush over his flushed cheek, just below where his long lashes rested. Still, the shame consuming his mind was nowhere near ebbing—shame from his embarrassing lack of control over his own body, and on top of that, shame that he’d loved every bit of it. He kept his eyes stubbornly sealed shut and his head turned away, not trusting himself to look at you without crumbling instantly.
“M fine,” he mumbled. Quiet, demure, nothing like the filthy sounds that had been spilling from his mouth minutes ago. “Just…”
“Shy?”
He hesitated, then nodded into the pillow, slick thighs rubbing together over the mere memory of what had just happened.
“You're simpler than I thought,” you teased. “Is that all it takes for you to listen? Just gotta tell you to do it like a good girl?”
A low groan escaped him, and you might’ve thought it was purely out of annoyance if it weren’t for the way his cock twitched at the words all over again. “Seriously,” his voice rose into a dramatic whine. “What are you doing to me? 'M all messed up.”
You shushed his fussing with a drag of your index finger along his lower lip. Before he could take it between his teeth like you knew he would, you used it to take hold of his chin instead, tilting his face carefully back into view.
"What's the problem?" you murmured. “You're prettiest like this.”
#my eye was twitching so bad trying to keep these short…i think i kinda failed haha but i hope u enjoy~#sub!skz#skz smut#sub!chan#sub!felix#sub!minho#bang chan smut#lee felix smut#lee know smut#ask
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The Family Business Ch.3
WandNat x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Chapter Notes: Mentions of death, violence, underaged drinking, slight mentions of SA, lisichka=little fox
Summary: Natasha has heard stories of you from Wanda. It has her doubting your current day skill level. With Dragos and Wanda in a meeting, you get the chance to tell her a bit about the person you've become.
An: Finally something between Y/n and Natasha (I say finally as if this isn't chapter 3 lol) Anyway enjoy this chapter and see you back next week.
Series Masterlist | Masterlist
You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as you worked. It was tedious work, but you typed away with a smile on your face regardless. You thought that maybe she’d pick up her phone or something, but she seemed to just watch you.
“You want to ask me something or you just going to keep staring?” You kept your eyes on the computer screen as you addressed her.
“You’re different than Wanda said you’d be,” was all that she said.
You finally looked at the red head, “Well like I said, it’s been a while since she has seen me. A lot has changed in the years she’s been gone.”
“Like what?”
You paused your work to give Natasha your full attention. You sat back fully in your chair pondering back to the last time you saw Wanda. “Well, she left before I graduated. Back then I thought I was going to take my degrees, find an honest job, and live a normal life. I was fragile, even after the self-defense training. I hadn’t held a gun, I hadn’t hacked into anything, I was just a little girl.”
“And now?”
You gesture around you, “Now, I have this nice office. I crunch numbers for the most high-profile company in town, that just happens to be a front for a criminal organization. I have 2 degrees, I can defend my family and myself, I’ve shot a gun more times than I can count, and I could hack into anything that you could imagine.”
“You’ve got a ledger?” The line about the gun seemed to stick out to Natasha.
You shrug your shoulders, “I’ve carried my weight.”
“How many?”
The question startles you a bit. It was so candid as if she was asking about the weather. You could see them, the people you had killed. It wasn’t a large number, not even in the double digits, but still.
“7.” You don't know what compelled you to keep speaking,” I remember all of them. What is it they say about the first one? You will never forget it. I was 20, it was before I joined the organization. Pietro had dragged me to some party.”
“I take it you weren’t a party animal back then?”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Not even a little so I did what everyone does to get comfortable at a party. I took a few shots, it was stupid. As a light weight and someone not of legal drinking age, I should've been more careful. The shots had loosened me up, so I was enjoying the party for awhile. I lost Pietro at some point, but I was too drunk to notice.”
You see Natasha frown a bit, but you continue, “The host of party finds me on the dance floor. We dance for a while; we don't say much, just hi. Someone spilled a drink on me while we were dancing. He offered to get me a new shirt. Like the innocent little idiot I was, I followed him up to his room.”
You paused, almost feeling like you were back in that moment. You could feel everything again, your skin was hot and sweaty, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel him on you.
Natasha could sense she lost you to the memory. She got up from the couch in your office to make her way towards you. She took a seat on the edge of your desk and pulled your hands into hers. “What happened in his room?”
“He tried to take advantage of me. He tore my shirt off just so his gross hands could grope my skin. He pulled me against him fiddled with his belt before trying mine. His breath was hot on my neck as he peppered kisses on my collarbone. When his hand slipped into my pants, is when it really clicked in my head. I had told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. You know the kind of guys that say, ‘you want this’ or ‘you teased me all night’ or ‘You’re the one half naked in my room’. He was one of those, no wasn’t going to cut it.”
Natasha squeezes your hand as you recount the harsh memory. It looks like you could cry right there in the office. Then all of a sudden, the tears pooling in your eyes are gone. A blank expression takes over your face.
“For a minute, I pretend I’m into what this creep is doing to me. Only enough for him to loosen his grip on me. At this point my back was against his front. I reach behind his head, like my arms trying to loop to bring him closer. Except one of my hand rests on top of his head and the other one is on the opposite side of his jaw. I snapped his neck. His body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.”
“Y/n- “
“I threw up when I saw him. After I was done, I called Pietro, he found me upstairs with the body. He felt so guilty for leaving me, but I could tell he was surprised too. So surprised that fragile little Y/n had snapped someone’s neck.”
Natasha’s eyes bored into yours, “That asshole deserved that. He deserved worse.”
“He didn’t rest even in death. Dragos made sure of it. He made that family’s life a living hell. It was a message to the entire city that I was under their protection. If anyone so much as laid a finger on me there would be dire consequences.”
A silence filled the room. Natasha didn't remove her hand from yours and you didn't ask her too. You glanced back at your computer, knowing you had to finish your work.
“Wanda never said you were fragile, just delicate,” Natasha’s fingers drew patterns on your hand.
You shake your head, “Wanda has always had a way with turning something negative into a positive. I never saw the difference between the two words, but she’d always say- “
“Fragile things break quickly into millions of pieces under the slightest pressure,” Natasha starts as if she had been there when Wanda said it to you.
“If you were fragile, you wouldn’t be here with us. You’re delicate, beautiful, intricate, and deserve to be handled with care,” you finish with a fond smile on your lips.
“For what it’s worth, I think she was right,” Natasha returns to her space on the couch to allow you to keep working.
She finally pulls out her phone seeming to have relaxed a bit because of your vulnerability. You want to refocus on work, but there are some questions that are nagging you about the woman in your office.
“How did you two meets? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Natasha ponders a minute for a suitable answer, and you take note of it, “The short version is that we met at work.”
You raise an eyebrow, “And what did you do for work?”
“Guess.”
You let your eyes look over the woman. You took in her relaxed posture, the muscles hiding under her shirt, the way she allowed you to be vulnerable with her, the mischievous glint in her eye. She was a multifaceted woman, you could tell.
“Spy, a Russian spy to be exact.”
Natasha seems slightly surprised, “How’d you guess Russian?”
“Romanoff sounds suspiciously close to Romanov, common last name in old Russia.”
“You’re a smart lisichka aren’t you?”
A blush takes over your features, “Little fox is new, but you’re stalling, Natasha.”
She crosses her arms across her chest, “Well I was formerly spy, turned into assassin for hire. I was anonymously hired to kill Wanda.”
“Too charming to kill?”
Natasha sighs, “I tried, but she was just too good. We started this rivalry, playful banter, suggestive tones, I spent a lot of time trapped under her thighs. It got to the point where I didn’t want to kill her, I had terminated the contract, but I just kept coming around to see her. She told me that my skills were being wasted on petty assassinations, when I could be working for her. I said the only way I’d consider was if she went out with me. The rest is history.”
“Leave it to Wanda to seduce an assassin.”
Natasha laughs, “Hey, she only seduced me because I let her.”
“Whatever you say super spy. I’ve got to finish this work before we have to leave for dinner.”
“Flora might have your head if you show up late,” Natasha comments.
You press the small button on your desk, “Thanks for reminding me. Kate, do you think you could get me some hydrangeas for Mrs.Maximoff.”
“Of course, Y/nn, anything for you,” she responds cheerfully.
You roll your eyes, “Thanks Katie.”
With that you're back to working. Though Natasha pulls out her phone, you still feel her eyes on you at time. It sends shivers up your spine, yet you don't want her to stop looking.
Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername
#lowkeyerror#wanda maximoff#wanda maximoff x reader#wanda maximoff imagine#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff imagine#wandanat x reader#wandanat#pietro maximoff
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forty-five days
summary: you come back on Valentine's Day after being away on a work trip.
pairing: Jenna Ortega x gn!reader
words: 1.89k
tw: very fluffy (is there such a thing as too fluffy?), kissing, light making out, let me know if i forgot anything
a/n: happy valentine's day everybody! tried making this as fluffy as i could, not sure how i feel about this one, let me know what you guys think lol
Jenna checked her phone again; 5:15 pm, no new texts. You should be here any minute now. She looked around the crowded lobby, but there was no sign of you yet.
You'd just finished filming for a big project, somewhere in New Zealand. It was a long process, over five months to film. You'd only seen each other for a few days during the holidays and before you had to leave again.
She was excited, to say the least, and nervous. She hadn't seen you in over a month. It made her wonder how you managed to go all that time without seeing her when she had to travel.
Home just wasn't the same without you.
You searched the lobby for any sign of Jenna. It'd been forty-five days since you last saw her, which roughly translated to 1,080 hours or 64,800 minutes. And each minute you were away from her felt entirely more agonizing than the last. (and yes, you did all the math on the plane, it was a very boring flight).
Finally, your eyes settled on a short brunette standing off to the side, away from the crowds. Tan and layered in freckles, her sunglasses were on and one of your jackets was draped lightly over her shoulders. She had a cheeky grin, and you knew she'd been watching you look around cluelessly for at least a few minutes.
You tightened your grip on your luggage, breaking out into a jog to go greet your amazing girlfriend. The second you were close enough you dropped your bags and nearly tackled her into a hug.
"I missed you so much." You whispered, still hugging her as if it were the last thing you might do.
"I missed you more." You could hear the playful smile she wore, her happiness more contagious than the plague. But more than that, you could hear the relief in her voice.
You squeezed her even tighter. You needed this. You needed her. Forty-five days was too long.
"Baby, you have to let go," Her arms gently tugged at your hands, she didn't really want you to let go, but you two couldn't exactly stand around in the airport all day.
"Nooo, just a little longer," you whined, sounding a bit like a child about to throw a tantrum.
"Come on, you can hug me all you want when we get home, ok?"
"Fineeeeee," You sighed. You didn't exactly mind letting her go, knowing there'd be plenty of time for cuddles later, but it was always more fun to be dramatic.
The minute you let go of her, she stuck her hand out, a bouquet of roses held out in front of you, "Happy Valentine's Day, baby."
"You got me roses?" You weren't exactly the type for flowers, but the idea of Jenna going out of her way just to get you something had a way of making your heart melt.
"Yeah? I know you don't really do the whole flowers thing, but I saw them, and I thought of you so-"
She didn't even have to finish her sentence. Before she even had a chance to stop and ask what you were doing, you had hooked your finger into one of the belt loops of her jeans, tugged her in close, and kissed her with all the pent-up passion you had.
God those lips. That smile. Her scent alone was enough to drive you mad. Your whole world could be falling apart, and you couldn't care less as long as you had her in your life.
The kiss didn't last long, much to your disappointment. It did, however, leave Jenna a blushing mess, which was more than enough to leave you satisfied.
You reached into your coat pocket and pulled out a necklace, holding it out for Jenna to see, “Happy Valentine’s Day, love.”
It was a simple necklace, an ivory pendant held by a plain black cord. The pendant looked similar to a vertical infinity sign, except instead of one twist, there were two.
Jenna looked it over in her hands, admiring the craftsmanship and the tiny details.
“The symbol is called a pikorua, it represents two people coming together for eternity. Two people bonded by friendship and loyalty.”
You bounced on your heels nervously. You weren’t a hundred percent sure she’d like it, but the meaning behind it was too good to pass up. You wanted Jenna to have a reminder of your love, especially when you two were apart for work.
“I know it’s not much, but-”
“No, no, no. I love it, baby.” She looked up at you and gave you that smile, the one that made you weak in the knees and your heart all melty. “It’s beautiful.”
She gave you a small peck on the cheek. And despite the heavy kiss from just minutes ago, the small action still made you blush, your heart swelling with feelings you couldn't comprehend, "Come on, love. Let's go home."
Her smile. Her laugh. Her eyes. God this girl was your kryptonite.
You walked through the front door and immediately your jaw dropped.
"Jenna... is this?”
“Yeah…”
“…for me?”
“Yeah…”
“You did all this?"
“Yeah…” Silence. Tension filled the air. You could practically feel the nerves radiating off the girl next to you.
"I wanted to surprise you..." she fiddled with her hands, wringing her fingers nervously as you admired the scene in front of you. "Is it too much? It is, isn't it? I'll clean it up-"
"No!" You said it too fast, too forcefully, "No," You tried again, much more calmly this time, "I love it, baby, it's awesome. I just- I didn't expect this at all."
The house was completely decorated, like something straight out of a Hallmark movie. Candlesticks decorated tables and hallways, lighting up the whole house with a soft yellow glow. Red and pink balloons lined the doorway and silver garland hung from the ceiling. The dining table was adorned with a white tablecloth and a vase filled with more roses. A ‘welcome home’ banner hung over the dining table, swaying slowly as you stared at the painted black letters in awe.
This Girl.
She did all this… for you? Just to surprise you?
“Baby?” You felt her hand on your arm. You hadn’t even realized how long you'd been staring in silence.
You turned around to see her looking at you, her expression a mix of emotions. There was hope and fear, she was so worried you'd hate the decorations, she wanted you to like them. But at the same time, you could see the love in her eyes, whether you loved it or hated it, she only wanted you to be happy.
Your body seemed to move on instinct.
You leaned forward and kissed her without even thinking about it. Your hands gripped her waist and pulled her in closer, anything to be near her. Her hands seemed to naturally find their way up your face, cupping it as she kissed you back.
Forty-five days was too damn long.
The kisses turned into something more. Before you knew it, Jenna had you pushed up against a wall, her hands roaming under your shirt, leaving goosebumps wherever they traveled. Her lips were at your jaw, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. It took everything in you not to melt under her touch.
“Baby?” You breathed out, not sure how much more you had in you before your knees would give out.
“Bedroom?” She already knew what you were going to ask, her lips pressed into the base of your neck sent chills down your spine.
“Please.”
You woke up to the sunlight peeking through the window, filtering in between the blades of the blinds. You groaned, tossing and rolling back over in bed. Stupid sun… all you wanted was to sleep in…
You rolled over only to notice the void in the bed. Something was missing… or more like someone. Where was Jenna?
“Baby?” You called out, your voice hoarse and rough from sleep.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes taking in the state of the room. Candles all burnt out, clothes strewn in every direction, rose petals covering every surface like confetti, half the bed sheets covered the floor while the other half haphazardly covered you.
You could hear noises coming from somewhere outside the room. What is she doing?
You picked up one of Jenna’s t-shirts from the floor and threw it on before stumbling out to the living room. You followed the noises to the kitchen.
Jenna was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a sports bra, her hair tied up in a messy bun. She was working away in front of the stove, the smell of food cooking and something sizzling catching your attention.
You strolled up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and resting your head on her shoulder. You didn’t have to look to know she was smiling, you could tell, it was in her body language. The way her muscles seemed to relax with you around, the little laugh she let out under her breath, the way she tried not to move too much so she wouldn’t jostle you around-
“Baby?” Her voice pulled you from thoughts.
“Hmmm?” You barely mumbled, your head still hazy with exhaustion. Between last night's activities and the jet lag from the flight, you were going to need at least a week to catch up on sleep.
There was that cute little laugh again, so quiet you would miss it if you weren’t paying attention. “What are you doing up, love? I figured you’d be asleep for at least another hour.”
“I missed you,” you wrapped your arms around her a little tighter.
“I missed you too, baby.” She leaned over, kissing you on the cheek before going back to whatever she was doing.
Your eyes were half closed as you stood there, clinging to her like a koala with your face nestled into the side of her neck. Despite the fact you were standing, you were comfortable enough that you could almost fall back asleep, if it weren’t for her little movements, you probably would’ve already.
“What’re you doing?” your voice came out all muffled from talking into her shoulder, but she seemed to understand what you meant.
“Making your favorite. I was going to surprise you with breakfast in bed.” She could see you nodding off on her shoulder, it made her smile. She always found you extra cute when you were sleepy. “Why don’t you go back to bed, babe? I’ll be there in a bit.”
“No.” You meant to sound firm in your decision, but between your morning voice and how tired you were, you sounded like you were about half asleep already. Which wasn’t too far from the truth.
“Babe, go to bed, I’ll be there soon,” She chuckled, smiling at your resolve to stick with her even if you were basically already sleeping on her shoulder.
“I’m fineeeee. I’m going to stay right here and help you cook.”
And you did. You stood right there and ‘supervised’ as Jenna cooked one of your favorite meals, pancakes and bacon. Normally she would’ve pushed you out of the kitchen for being in her way, but after not being together for so long, she didn’t mind the intimacy.
#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x gn!reader#void-wolfie
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Satisfaction [Part 2]
PART 2 OF SATISFACTION
Summary: Four times Lewis tried to apologize, and one time he didn't need to.
Word count: 4.3k
Tags: female!reader, apologetic!Lewis (finally), physiotherapist!reader, a little bit of romance, Lewis is trying, reader is more forgiving than the author would be, cursing, a bit angsty, happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Note: I'm so sorry for taking so long with this! I had a writer's block specifically with this one. For everyone who sent me asks about it, I read everything, sorry if I didn't reply to all! Luckily, one dramatic anon sent me an ask saying they would graduate college with a doctorate before this came out, and it made me laugh out loud BUT it actually sparked something in my brain and I managed to write, lol. So, thanks, Dramatic Anon, I owe you one :D
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes (haven't had the time to proofread).
Find me on Twitter!
I.
“Hey, Lewis! How are you doing?” Angela said as soon as she picked up his call, and Lewis held his breath before answering.
“Yeah, uh, I’m alright-”, he scratched his face nervously.
“I hope you’re not giving Y/N a hard time anymore, yeah?” Angela joked a little, her voice light.
“Oh. You know about that?”
“Yeah, I called her a few days ago to check in how’s the work and she mentioned you were not very receptive,” Angela said and Lewis noticed that, even saying that, you didn’t call him what he was. A complete prick. “And since she didn’t call again, I assumed things got better between you two.”
“Well, about that-” Lewis sighed, not knowing.
“What?” Angela paused, her voice suddenly serious again.
“She resigned. And it was entirely my fault.” He ripped the band-aid off.
“Lewis, what the actual fuck?!”
“I was awful to her. Way worse than I assume she told you. And before you call me every name under the sun, I need to contact her and apologize. Unfortunately, she blocked my number now, so if you can kindly let me know her address, so I can apologize.”
“You better fix this mess, Lewis.” Angela said before ending the call, as less than a minute later, a text popped up on his screen, your address. Which was in London, not very far from his own neighborhood.
Lewis sent flowers to your place with a small note apologizing and asking you to unblock him. When you didn’t answer and didn’t unblock him, he called the florist he had ordered to double check if you had received the flowers. You did. So you just didn’t want to talk to him. He kept sending a bouquet every day for the next three days. On the fourth day, as he was back home, he decided to go to your place himself.
He brought another bouquet, ringing the bell in your house. He rose the bouquet to cover his face, and he heard your voice, opening.
“Hi there, buddy! If I give you a hundred pounds, would you not bother bringing these flowers here? Just- throw them on the bin or something-” You stopped abruptly as the flowers lowered revealing not the young delivery man who’s been bringing flowers to your place every single day, but Lewis Hamilton himself.
“So you’re not even receiving the flowers?” He asked, sounding hurt.
“I got the first one, and I have no interest in anything that comes from you,” you managed to say, looking him straight in the eyes.
You looked exhausted, your hair was messy and your face lacked any makeup. But worse of all, you looked hurt and angry.
“Wait, let me just- let me apologize, I can explain even if it’s not-” He dropped the bouquet, pleading.
“Just fuck off, ok? You have not a single reason to be here today.”
“I was an ass to you and-”
“And now we’re nothing. We are just strangers, nothing more, nothing less. Fuck off!” You said and didn’t even give him a second before slamming the door on his face.
II.
So the flowers were a no.
And he wasn’t sure where to go from that, since he couldn’t come up with any other way to make you at least give him a chance to talk.
He was still trying to think of something when he crossed paths with Oscar Piastri during media day. Lewis stopped dead in his tracks as he saw the rookie driver munching on a little protein bar, the package showing it was the same as you had offered him weeks earlier.
“Hey, there, Oscar!” Lewis greeted him, “if you don’t mind me asking. Where did you get this?” He pointed to the little package in his hand.
“Oh, Lando’s new PT! She’s covering for Jon as he’ll be a few weeks on paternity leave.”
“Oh, is she here?”
“At McLaren, yes.”
Lewis nodded, going straight there, not bothering with explaining why he was there just walking in. He found you in a small room with Lando. You were guiding him through a stretching session with a silicone stretching. Lando was telling you something and you were laughing, a hand on his shoulder as Lando pulled his arms in and out.
“-no way you said that! Poor thing, she must have been scared!” You said, then you two laughed.
You were looking healthier than the last few times he had seen you. You looked like you had been sleeping well, and your hair was pretty, and you were wearing make up.
As Lewis approached, and you noticed his presence, you stopped laughing, face getting serious and focused on Lando.
“Oh, hey man!” Lando greeted him, smiley and unaware of the thing between you two.
“Hi. Y/N, can I talk to you? I just need one minute then I’ll leave you alone.”
You scoffed but didn’t look at him, and Lando looked from your face to Lewis’ confused with the tension suddenly so thick he would be able to cut it with a knife.
“Y/N, can you just-”
“You’re all good, Lando. Tomorrow we do another session an hour before Free Practice, and then a stretching session between FP1 and FP2.”
Lando nodded, unsure of what to do so he just watched as you turned away and packed your bag, leaving with long strides through the door.
“Mate, I don’t know what the fuck you did, because I’ve never seen her be mean ever since I met her. Good luck, though, seems like you need it.” Lando said, leaving to the opposite side.
Lewis muttered “fuck” before going after you. He found you outside the motorhome, and ran up to block your path, but he miscalculated and you ended up running straight into him.
“What the fuck? Dude, just leave me alone!” You tried walking past him but he blocked you again.
“Please, I’m so sorry! Really, I am, I was such a dick to you and you didn’t deserve any of that.”
You didn’t look at his eyes, adjusting your bag as you sighed.
“I just- I don’t understand why you are doing this. I’m no one, I’m nothing. Just go on about your life.”
“No, no- You’re not nothing. I’m really sorry for the way I treated you when all you offered me was kindness.”
“Fine! Ok.” you muttered, seemingly exhausted, “Can I go now?”
He knew you didn’t actually forgive him, so he just let you go because he didn’t want to pressure you into something you were visibly not ready for. It didn’t mean he would give up, just that he needed a different approach.
III.
Lewis managed to find out that you’d stay a few more weeks working with Lando, so he arranged a well crafted plan to have you listen to him.
Desperate times asked for desperate measures.
So he managed to talk Lando into letting him drive you to the track that weekend, you two would have time to talk on the drive. He waited behind the wheel watching as you went to the backseat to leave your bags, then you opened the passenger door, smiling and chatting. But you stopped smiling as soon as you sat down and noticed him.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, sounding more annoyed than angry.
“I’m your ride to the track today.”
“I’d rather not,” you muttered, removing the seat belt you had just put on.
“There’s no one else to take you there, please, just let us go,” he asked softly. You sighed, putting on the seat belt again and he smiled reaching the cup holder and offering you a cup of coffee, “got you a coffee.”
“Thanks,” you took it begrudgingly, but as you took a sip, you noticed it was your favorite, “how do you know I like this coffee?”
“You told me, during one of our sessions.”
“I thought you weren’t listening to a single word I said,” you scoffed, almost disdainful. He took it, because taking your anger was little compared to what he did to you.
“I listened to you.”
“Weird way of showing, then.”
You stared at the road he was softly driving. You didn’t like his company, that much was clear, but he was on a mission, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going to properly apologize.
“I don’t even know why you treated me like trash,” you muttered suddenly, sniffling like you were trying to contain the tears, “just- I was so happy, you know? I’ve always been a fan of Formula 1, watched it growing up and everything. Then I get here all happy to achieve the greatest dream and I just get treated like shit from day one. I tried to be funny, I tried to be kind, I tried to be silent, and none of it worked. I don’t understand what you want from me now! I’m a person too, ok? I get sad and frustrated, and I have my own problems, but I don’t go around making everyone else’s lives shit just because I’m mad!”
“Yes, you are right. I treated you like shit when you never deserved it. I really regret it, for what it's worth,” He sighed, looking at you for a moment before focusing on the road, “my life was shit. I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s the truth. I was just coming out of a relationship that I thought meant a lot to me, and I just lost Angela, who is one of my closest friends, and I was on the verge of losing my seat. It felt like everything was going wrong for a few weeks.”
That made you pause, turning to stare at him.
“What do you mean, losing your seat?” You sounded genuinely curious, and even a little worried.
“The negotiations for a new contract weren’t going ahead, and I was really worried Mercedes was going to get rid of me.”
“But you’re like- one of the GOATs! Why would they lose you?” Now you sounded exasperated, like you couldn't believe that.
“Well, now everything is alright and signed, but it felt like I was really at risk back then.”
You stayed silent for a few minutes, mulling over his words, trying to wrap your head around his excuses. You were thoughtful the rest of the drive, until Lewis pulled up in a parking lot at the track. Finally, you nodded to yourself.
“I forgive you, Lewis. Just- Don’t do that to anyone ever again, it’s not cool,” you said, unlocking the seat belt, “thank you for the ride and for the effort in apologizing. Goodbye, Lewis.”
You took your bags from the backseat and left after waving at him again. It felt like a closed chapter to you, and you could bury whatever resentment you felt towards him. It was freeing in a way.
IV.
Lewis didn’t see you for a couple more race weeks, despite casually walking in front of McLaren’s garage and hospitality. He couldn’t catch a glimpse of you and he genuinely worried that your last goodbye was definitive.
Fortunately he saw you again late at night after a race. Almost everyone had left already, and Lewis had a long debriefing meeting with his team, so it was sheer luck to find you on the way to the parking lot, where you were standing against the wall, hugging yourself under a big coat and holding your bags. You seem worried and unwell.
“Hey,” he said, trying to sound like he wasn’t ecstatic to see you again, “are you ok?”
“Yeah, um- I missed my ride back to the hotel, so I’m trying for an uber or something,” you said, but Lewis unnoticed how you were pale and your lips looked dry.
“Are you sure you’re ok? You look like you’re about to pass out.” He pointed, and you breathed in, slowly. You felt very, very cold, with shivers up your body that you miserably trying to contain.
“I’ve got a little fever,” you mentioned, finally. Lewis raised his hand and touched your forehead, feeling it way more warm than a little fever.
“Little fever? You’re burning!” He exclaimed, putting his own Mercedes coat over you, then taking your bags and putting them over his shoulder, “Come on, I’ll give you a ride back.”
“You don’t have to, really-”
“I’m not leaving you here in the late hours of the night while having a fever! Now, come on!”
He held your forearm, worried you’d stumble and fall or something. With a big umbrella to face the rain, he guided you to his car, where a driver was waiting. The two of you sat on the backseat as Lewis instructed the driver to take you to the hotel.
“Should we take you to see a doctor or something?” Lewis asked.
“No, don’t worry, I already took an antipyretic. It should work soon.”
Back in the hotel, Lewis accompanied you up to your room even when you wanted to refuse, but he said he was worried, and it felt honest, so you let him take you up. He didn’t let you say anything as he pushed the door of your room and walked you inside.
“Are you still feeling cold?” He asked.
“Yes,” you put your bags away, but you watched as Lewis went into your luggage, “um- excuse me?” you crossed your arms, annoyed at him going through your things.
“Change into this, it will keep you warm,” he tossed you a sweater and matching pants, “I’ll ask room service for soup, so you can warm up.”
Huffing, you went into the bathroom and changed, glad because you were in fact a little bit warmer. You wore socks for the cold and got into bed, where Lewis helped tuck you in, pulling the duvet tight around you.
“Why are you doing all this? We’re just strangers, Lewis.” You shook your head, watching as he walked around the bed and sat beside you over the duvet.
“We’re not strangers, and I wanted to help,” he shrugged.
“We are strangers, we know nothing about each other,” you muttered.
“Well, I’m Lewis, my favorite color is purple and I have a dog named Roscoe,” he said which made you chuckle a little, “there, not strangers anymore.”
“Well, I’m Y/N, my favorite color is yellow and I don’t have a pet yet, but hopefully soon.”
Lewis eyed you carefully.
“I know you’re with McLaren on a temporary contract, so I was wondering if you’d be willing to come back to Mercedes after that,” he said, slowly. You sighed, shaking your head.
“I won’t go back, Lewis.” You said softly, for him to know you weren’t angry anymore, but the world had spun, life went on…
“But- Ellie said you were such a big fan! It’s ok if you don’t want to work with me anymore, I’ll understand. But I don’t think it’s fair that you lose your chance in such a big dream because of an asshole like me!”
“There are always other dreams to have, Lewis. When a door closes, others may open,” you untucked your arm so you could hold his arm in comfort. He held your hand, and when he felt your cold hand, he rubbed it softly, to warm you up.
“It’s not fair-”
“Lewis, I’m moving to Madrid in a few weeks.”
He stopped, visibly deflated hearing your words.
“I’m so sorry, I should’ve never-”
“Lewis, it’s not because of you,” you pushed the duvet, freeing yourself so you could sit up beside him, backs to the headboard, “I got an amazing offer from Real Madrid. I’m gonna join their PT team.”
“Oh.”
His stomach dropped once again, thinking that life would lead you two different paths, new future, new plans, and Lewis won’t even be able to make it up to you through time as he was hoping for. Lewis expected that, with you coming back to Mercedes, he would have time to apologize with actions, more than just words.
“They’re my favorite football team, and I’ve always dreamed of getting there,” when you noticed how down he was with the news of your departure, you pressed his hand a bit more, “I told you there are many dreams to achieve.”
“You wouldn’t have to worry about it if I hadn’t been so-”
“That’s enough, Lewis, it has nothing to do with you. This is my choice, something that I also dreamed of. It’s not the end of the world. If anything, there are lessons in what we went through.”
He wanted to ask you to stay, to give him and the Mercedes dream one more chance, but he knew it would be selfish of him to ask that. And he wasn’t willing to be selfish with you anymore. He would only have maybe a few more weeks with you, that he intended to nurture a friendship with you.
When your soup arrived, he stayed and watched you eat, and you thanked him profusely as the meds started working and you felt the fever dissipating.
V.
Lewis ended up going back to McLaren to find you all the time. Sometimes he brought a coffee for you, some other times he just wanted to invite you to lunch, or he wanted a protein bar, and after almost two weeks of that, his excuses ran dry and he only said he wanted to check on you. and he had been checking on you for a couple more weeks now.
“So…” Lando muttered with a knowing smirk, “you and Lewis, uh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, as you spotted Lando from behind, analyzing his squats.
“You went from hating him to becoming his friend pretty quickly,” Lando pointed.
“And…?”
“I don’t know but he’s here all the time to see you.”
“Nah, he’s just passing by.”
Lando let go of teasing you and switched topics to talk about something else for the remainder of your session. After you finished and Lando went for the post race debrief, you were getting ready to leave when Lewis found you again.
“What do you want?” You squinted your eyes at him. Lando’s teasing voice still in your head.
“Moody, are we?” Lewis joked, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.
“Lewis.”
“Fine, fine! I’m taking you to dinner later today, ok?”
“Are you asking me out or demanding?” You frowned, pretending to be moody.
“I’m inviting you and implying I’m not taking no for an answer,” He winked.
“Lewis, I don’t think we-”
“Think of it as a farewell, celebratory dinner, yes? You’re leaving so soon to Madrid! Pretty please?” He joined both hands like he was begging.
“Fine. Stop pouting.” You rolled your eyes and he giggled, before leaving.
He texted you two hours later saying he was coming to pick you up. You dressed cozy and comfortable, since it was absolutely not a date. He texted you to let you know he was downstairs when you were finishing with your hair. As soon as you got in the car, you checked Lewis’ outfit.
“Is this ok?” You asked, pointing at yourself.
“It’s perfect.”
Lewis drove for forty minutes to the next town over. In the end, he took you to a cozy restaurant, small, a little cramped but so familial and cozy. You two sat in a corner booth, far from the windows. You went over the menu as Lewis explained that this place’s food tasted homemade and they also had vegan options, so he always went there whenever he was in that part of Italy.
You told Lewis everything about your move, how you had found a great apartment close to work, how you had enrolled in Spanish classes to start a month after your arrival, and everything.
After a hearty meal and chatting a lot, you two decided to go for a walk to eat some ice cream. The air was windy but not very cold, so you just walked side by side a little late at night.
“Are you sure nobody will see us?” You looked around to see if anyone had recognised him or had taken pictures.
“Yes, it’s very discreet in this part of town. Besides, it’s a little late, so not many people are around.”
“This is a very good gelato, Lewis! Thanks for taking me out today.” You muttered as the two of you walked around a big, dark park. You stood under a lamp post, finishing the last of your ice cream.
“How are you feeling about Madrid?” He asked you, looking interested.
“Nervous. Excited. I don’t know.” You whispered, smiling, you held the lamp post and let it take your weight as you flung around, all smiley because of the bit of wine you had at the restaurant, “It’s like a new adventure. You know when you’re about to do something that might be risky but gratifying? You’re scared but you have to-”
As you completed a full 360 around the lamp post, you were met with Lewis walking up to you and kissing you. He pressed his lips to yours, firm but tender, and it took you a while to assimilate what was happening. You held his coat and pushed him away only enough to break the kiss. The lime gelato kiss that had your stomach full of butterflies, and your heart beating almost out of its cage.
“Lewis-” you shook your head, still confused.
“Sorry, I- I just couldn’t pass on the opportunity,” he sighed and his breath fanned your cheek.
“We shouldn’t,”
“Why not?” He raised one hand to cradle your face, his thumb running your cheek.
“Because we started too messy. And- and I’m leaving soon. We don’t need to complicate things.”
You whispered, still not pulling away fully. You wanted it, so bad. But you knew you couldn’t get tangled in a messy situationship right before leaving. He was tempting, but you weren’t willing to risk whatever time was left of your silly little friendship.
So you took a step back. Still, you took his hand in yours, letting his warmth engulf you.
“Sorry,” he cleared his throat, but you just smiled at him, seeing how he was memorizing your face, and how your eyes were shining bright for him.
“It’s ok. Just, wrong place and wrong time, right?”
He gulped, nodding.
You didn’t kiss again, but Lewis held your hand the whole drive back to Monza.
Understandably, Lewis didn’t come back for your last week at McLaren. Despite being a little hurt about his absence, it didn’t really upset you, deep down you knew that it was better like this. The distance would make the goodbye easier for the man who wormed his way into your life. The whole team at McLaren gave you a farewell cake, which was sweet considering you were just a temporary hire.
You had tears in your eyes saying goodbye to the team and to the formula 1 track.
After that, you went back to London to finish packing, and shipping a few of your furniture and belongings. The dinner with your family and closest friends was filled with tears, and you finally caught up with Angela, explaining everything that had happened.
When the day came, your parents and siblings took you to the airport and you said goodbye with teary eyes and a heavy heart.
You were about to board when a sudden commotion caught your attention, and from between the crowd Lewis Hamilton emerged, running towards you as if he were in a marathon. Confused and shocked, you waited for him to get closer, and as soon as he stopped in front of you, he held your face with both hands and pulled you in a kiss. After two seconds, you returned the kiss, deepening it by opening your lips. He devoured you for a couple more seconds, before pulling away when you were both panting.
“Lewis? What the fuck?”
“This doesn’t have to be a goodbye, right? We can- I don’t know, we can figure it out,” He muttered, face close to you.
“Lewis,” you hesitated, “I’m moving away. We’ll spend most of out time in different time zones-”
“Wouldn’t you like to try? It’s better to try than spend our lives haunted by what ifs” His argument was convincing. And the fact that he was just centimeters from your face, and the fact that you had just kissed and his cologne was divine… Very tempting.
“Lewis, the next time you cause a scene in front of an entire airport, I’m killing you,” you whispered, pecking his lips once more as the crowd dissipated of people boarding the plane.
“I wanted it to be memorable, like a romcom.”
“You’re annoying, that’s what you are. You’re lucky you’re handsome” You rolled your eyes, but Lewis could still see the big smile on your face, eyes glinting.
“Is that a yes to my question?”
“One date, Hamilton. And we’ll see where it will go from that” You smiled, pushing his chest, taking a step back.
“I’m going to Madrid as soon as the triple header is over,” He promised, pulling you close again by the waist.
“You better! I don’t know, maybe I will meet a handsome Spaniard,” You joked, playing hard to get. You closed the distance so you could whisper in his ear, “You better work if you want any prize, pretty boy.”
He gasped at your seductive words, and you pushed him away. He smiled at you. Pulling one of his necklaces, he put it around your neck, a pearl one, very beautiful. The airport called all the passengers for the flight.
“A promise. Yeah?” He said, holding the necklace softly.
“Yeah. See you soon?” You nodded.
“See you soon.”
He watched as you walked away, and before boarding, you turned around and blew him a kiss. He laughed, pretending it hit him right over his heart.
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