#on todays episode of f around and find out
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CALL IT WANT YOU WANT — yu jimin x f!reader
the self-on kode with karina had boosted your popularity as a solo member immensely. you find yourself invited to another show; nothing much prepared. yet, you weren’t exactly alone this time.
TAGS — fluff, lesserafim member!yn, flirty!karina, continuation of magnetic, lee youngji’s show, lowk crack
WORDCOUNT — 2.3k
your manager drops you off in front of an apartment complex. waving goodbye to him, and with a promise to not stir up any trouble, you enter the apartment building, nerves trembling. reaching the lobby, you press on the call button, dialling in lee youngji’s apartment number.
“hello!” you greet as youngji’s face comes into view.
“oh my,” youngji gasps, “hurry up before i leave!”
“this is your house though?” the video ends abruptly. you laugh as you enter the lift.
the lift slowly brings you up, a stranger eyeing you weirdly. pulling up the mask closer to your face, you resist the urge to run away.
the lift dings, and you exit, turning corners to finally reach her apartment. pressing on the doorbell gingerly, you start to remove your shoes. you hear youngji’s rapid footsteps as she approaches.
“y/n-ssi!” youngji shrieks. cheers resound from the small crowd of staff. cameras and lights form a semicircle, capturing your every move. you smile shyly at everyone, waving your hand.
“welcome to my house!”
“Is this your actual house?” you ask, “not like a set?”
youngji laughs, “what makes you think i can afford a set like this? of course it’s my actual house!” you nod, grin plastered on your face as you sit down on the cushion. youngji immediately starts introducing the various food items she prepared for you.
yet, when she points at a certain plate, your eyes widen in recognition as she states, “that’s for our other guest, she likes tonkatsu.”
“other guest…?” you repeat, “my manager didn’t say anything about another guest.”
youngji grins at you apologetically, “because we didn’t inform him about it! no worries, you should be well-acquainted with her!”
the staff laughs at your reaction, glaring at youngji who paces around the room.
the webcam rings again. you try to soothe your nerves by slurping up the noodles youngji had prepared. acquainted with you? and someone who likes tonkatsu? you couldn’t believe it. could youngji really manage to get..?
“karina unnie! welcome back to my house!” your heart drops.
the familiar idol peeks around the corner.
“y/n?” jimin gapes. you share a similar reaction. youngji claps gleefully at the interaction.
“welcome back my favourite unnie and my newest unnie!” your eyes narrow while jimin’s crinkle into an eye smile.
“please take a seat next to y/n unnie!” you tense up before shifting slightly to accommodate for the unexpected arrival. jimin grins, sitting down with her humongous bag. “hi, nice to see you again. you haven’t replied to my message yet.”
“i was busy,” you reply in a low voice. jimin only rolls her eyes and moves in closer. you feel your throat constrict at the closeness.
“youngji, can i have water please?” you ask. the girl mentioned immediately brings out a large bottle from the fridge, placing it on the table. she clears her throat, “okay, now that we are all settled! today we have y/n-ssi and karina-ssi!”
you cheer awkwardly along with the staff.
“this is the first time we have two people from different groups!” youngji exclaims, “unnie, of course, has been here before and y/n is here for the first time.”
youngji turns to you, “have you watched unnie’s episode?”
“ah… no i haven’t…” you glance at jimin apologetically. the idol turns to you, affronted.
“y/n, that’s so hurtful!” jimin pouts. you look away, coughing to mask the choking sensation caused by her big puppy eyes.
you take a large gulp of alcohol, youngji laughs at your expense.
“have you watched any of y/n-ssi’s content recently then?” youngji prompts.
jimin sighs, hands going to massage her temples exaggeratedly, “of course! i watched her vlog to japan and her dazed interview.”
you try to hide your red face behind the glass of alcohol, eyes darting from jimin’s piercing gaze.
“y/n-ssi, did you hear that? unnie has been keeping up with your content!” your ears flush maroon.
“sorry… i’ve been busy with stuff,” you defend yourself. jimin giggles, sipping on her miniature cup. her posture seems relaxed and calm, of course, since this would be her second time appearing on the show. meanwhile, you sit upright, meekly staring at youngji.
“how have you guys been? aespa’s having a comeback, right?”
jimin brightens up, “yes, it’s our first full album. we have a pre-release single called supernova and our title track is armageddon! please show lots of love since it will be our first time promoting a full album!” the staff breaks out in applause. you clap along.
“y/n-ssi!” youngji calls out, “are you going to buy their album?” you gape at youngji, “uh, sure!”
“shouldn’t you ask unnie for a signed copy?”
“ah… uhm, karina-ssi—”
jimin pouts at you, “call me unnie and i’ll give it to you!”
you feel faint at the close proximity of her beauty.
“unnie…”
the idol laughs, patting you on the back, “youngji, isn’t she so cute? her reaction is the opposite of minjeong but they’re both so funny.”
“what’s your mbti? wait no— i’ll guess!” youngji shrieks. even before she opens her mouth a second time, jimin swiftly answers, “istj!”
“oh, sorry, but even if you’re older than me you can’t just interrupt like that,” youngji deadpans. you choke on the water you were drinking. jimin only swats at the host, “i was helping you. you definitely couldn’t guess her mbti.”
you cough, “jimin is correct.”
“unnie, you’re istj? wow!”
“i think it’s quite obvious, no?” you ask, pointing at yourself. jimin shoots you a smile.
“how do you guys feel about your episode on self-on kode reaching five million views? it’s one of the most popular videos now. please say something to the camera,” youngji asks. jimin nudges you while she takes a bite out of the tonkatsu. you blush thinking about the video.
“i’m thankful for all of jimin’s fans who watched the video and enjoyed our interaction. it was my first time appearing solo and i was worried that my personality would be too timid and shy. but i’m glad our fans liked the video,” you smile at the camera, “to all the mys and fearnots, i love you all.”
youngji sighs, “unnie.”
“yes?”
“should we just get married? i think i should pay more taxes to witness your smile.”
jimin interrupts again, cheeks puffed with food, “no!”
the subtitle underneath would read, ‘in a fight between whales, the shrimp is the one that gets hurt.’
“y/n is mine,” jimin says after swallowing. you just stare at her incredulously.
“unnie, you can’t just claim people like that! what if y/n unnie doesn’t like you!”
“i don’t care, i met her first.” you think this side of jimin is incredibly childish. and cute.
youngji frowns but then bursts out into laughter, “okay let’s say, we share y/n unnie.”
jimin shakes her head.
“okay, pick between, no shin-chan or no y/n— let’s play a balance game!” your eyes widen as youngji yells. maybe too much energy was a bad thing.
“three, two, one, answer!”
jimin huffs, “no y/n…”
you chuckle, of course jimin’s love for shin-chan would prevail. you roughly remember the boo keychain she had given you last time after the shoot ended, thankful that you dealt with her nonsense.
you didn’t bother telling her you had fun. she could probably tell from the smile on your face.
“lee youngji, jay park or y/n? three, two, one—”
youngji slams the table, scoffing, “unnie, let’s just continue the shoot without you.”
jimin claps gleefully. as the idol laughs, her hand comes striking down on your back. you yelp in pain, surprised by the forcefulness of her slap.
“—oh! i’m sorry!”
you narrow your eyes at jimin, “was that on purpose?”
“i would never slap someone like that on purpose!” jimin was such a liar. you’ve been her victim many times.
“unnie, even y/n unnie is scared of you,” youngji says, bringing out a candy ring from her pocket, “that’s why, y/n unnie should marry me instead.”
you laugh loudly, reaching out your hand to receive the ring.
“hey, didn’t you give me a shin-chan ring?”
“that was in the past, it is all about the future—”
“i’m going to slap you next!”
while the two bicker, you slip on the ring, yet it doesn’t fit quite as snug as you hoped. a little loose around the edges, jimin notices your call for help. deft fingers wrap around yours, trying to tighten the ring. a snippet of her tongue pokes out, eyes focused on securing the ring. your eyes flicker to her face. it’s adorable how jimin is so concentrated.
“there,” her eyes shone, “it’s secure now.”
you look back at her, mumbling, “thank you, jimin.”
a voice breaks your eye contact, “i’m sorry, but is this a blind date? am i interrupting? should i leave?” youngji stands up.
you hastily try to pull her arm back to sit down, “no!”
“yes!” jimin nods. you glare at jimin, who pouts again. what was god thinking when he made jimin? did he not consider how many heart attacks her pout would cause?
“ah, young love,” youngji sighs, lamenting as she sits down again, “unnie has mentioned you countless times on bubble.”
“oh, really?” you turn to jimin, in disbelief.
jimin scowls, “lee youngji, don’t buy my bubble just to tease me.”
“i didn’t buy your bubble!”
“ah, you bought mark’s one, right?” you ask, remembering the episode with twice. youngji nods excitedly, “you watched nayeon and chaeyoung unnie’s episode?”
you nod, “i’m a once, it was a very fun episode.”
“unnie, flatter me more and i’ll ask them to text you.”
laughing, you shake your head, “it’s okay, i’m happy being a once and watching their content.”
“i heard you were a fan of got7 too.”
“yes, ahgase was actually my nickname in the self-on kode episode.”
“jimin unnie, you said you liked older women in the episode,” youngji asks, “how did you feel when you found out y/n unnie is younger?”
“of course i was still happy! i liked y/n ever since lesserafim debut,” jimin says, “and park y/n, you watch twice but not aespa content?”
your eyes widen as you shake your hands in front of you, denying, “no, i watched twice’s episode a long time ago! i didn’t have time to watch yours!”
“what if it was minjeong who came? would you watch it?”
at this point, jimin was just having fun teasing you.
“i really didn’t have time,” you whine. jimin sighs dramatically, “maybe i’m the only one putting in effort in this friendship.”
“jimin unnie, i think you should consider acting,” youngji says out of the blue, “like a first love turned ex type of drama.”
jimin laughs. you could definitely imagine jimin acting. but maybe for the sake of your sanity, she shouldn’t act in any romance drama for now.
“have you guys met recently after the self-on kode episode? all your fans have been wondering and ah! did you see the article about y/nrina’s outing?”
you roughly recalled such an article. chaewon had showed it to you. it was a few weeks after the episode had aired and jimin wanted to go out. you had agreed, and unbeknownst to the two of you, there was a fan who took a photo of you at the restaurant.
“we went to a photobooth, and to the arcade. i think fearnots may know but jimin won a plushie there, the cute cat one that i posted on weverse. then we went to go eat.”
youngji pulls out a piece of paper, the photo printed on it.
“lee youngji, what is this prop?” jimin asks.
“newest edition to our show!” youngji says proudly, pointing at the two familiar figures, “can you explain this photo?” it was the trending photo of jimin and you fighting over the bill before jimin ended up handing her card to the waiter, happily smiling at you.
“jimin wanted to pay the bill and i disagreed, wanting to split half-half,” you explain, “we played rock paper scissors and jimin won, so she paid.”
jimin grins, looping her arm through yours, “but next time y/n is paying!”
“next time, will you guys invite me too?”
“sure!” you exclaim, “we can go eat pork belly. let’s shake on it!” you extend your hand, grasping youngji’s and shaking in a firm grip.
youngji pulls back, eyeing her hand as she says, “i’m never washing this hand again.”
“lee youngji—”
“ah, unnie, isn’t it time for you to go home?” youngji perks up. jimin shakes her head, “i wanna stay here longer.”
“unnie, don’t make me call your manager,” youngji turns to you for help.
you sigh, grabbing jimin’s humongous bag and trying to get her to stand up, “jimin, please get up.”
jimin resists for a few seconds. you smile shyly at her. she finally relents.
turning to the camera, you grin, “thank you for inviting us today, youngji! i had a lot of fun and so did jimin.”
“thank you for coming!” youngji smirks, “and thank you for dragging unnie home! let’s stay in contact y/n unnie!”
you wave goodbye at the crew and drag the frowning jimin out of the apartment. after successfully reaching the door, you put on your shoes. jimin’s arms wrap around your back as she sighs, “y/n…”
“hm? what is it?”
“i want a kiss.”
you smack her shoulder, “no, get off me.”
“please y/n! i didn’t even tease you that much this time! and if youngji can ask for your hand in marriage, you should allow your girlfriend to ask for a kiss!”
“on the cheek.”
“no!” jimin points at her lips, “here!”
glossy, red and plump. your eyes zero in, but you shake your head, “no, jimin. control yourself. we’re still outside youngji’s apartment.”
jimin huffs, sulking as she puts on her shoes.
“in the lift,” you say, “i’ll give you a kiss in the lift.”
your girlfriend perks up, tying her shoelaces with a speed unknown to mankind. you giggle at her eagerness.
“y/n, hurry up!” jimin yells, pulling your arm towards the lift lobby.
nothing has really changed. you still can’t find yourself denying yu jimin. even after she’s become your girlfriend.
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Raphael being infatuated with a mortal and the interest seems to be mutual (maybe with the mortal bantering with the devil about how he doesn't need to bribe them to get them to spend time with him), but then another person pulls the—probably in human form—cambion aside and tells the him to not try to flirt with the mortal he's infatuated with because, "Them and I are already together." However, this person is just delusional and decided that the object of Raphael's affections interests being polite meant they were dating. The mortal verbally tears the delusional person a new one when this comes to light and lets it slip during the tirade that Raphael's infatuation is indeed reciprocated.
First time writing for Raphael! Definitely gotta brush up more on his character but this was an interesting concept to work with!
You'll have to forgive me for getting a lil carried away with the build up for this one but I do hope that it's to your liking hun~!
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♡ The work of a devil means to surround yourself with fools. Fools who put their lives, and their souls, and all that they hold dear on the line in an attempt to vie for the chance to gain something better. Something greater than them - however temporary. And who was Raphael to deny them the opportunity? He is oh so generous, after all.
♡ Raphael makes no attempt to hide how much he enjoys the back and forth - the game of cat and mouse with stubborn souls who have yet to realize that they had been doomed from the moment the cambion had set his sights on his latest mark. They all come crawling back eventually of their own accord; pushed into the corner with nowhere else to turn just as he always warned them. So Raphael is more than content to wait however long that takes. Weeks. Month. Years. He has all the means to bide his time. Raphael can afford the wait; his clients can’t.
♡ But of course he has to find some way to pass that time - to entertain himself while the proverbial counter whittles down.
♡ That is where you come in.
♡ How he found you was anyone’s guess. Maybe you caught his eye, a momentary fancy in the vicinity of his latest client, going about your meager days in a relative peace he was all too happy to break. Or perhaps you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time; strayed too long in his presence or looked too close at the devil in mortal’s clothing till you realized you knew too much. Whatever the details of your first encounter, once Raphael has set his sights on something that he wants, your days of peace without him are long gone.
♡ Such a pesky little mortal you are. A sharper wit and even sharper tongue than some of the suckers who come clamoring to him for their own gain. One who acts as though the sight of the devil at your doorstep every few days is another routine to grow accustomed to. Maybe it is, but don’t tell him that. He’d almost be offended by the lukewarm reception; but luckily for you he finds it humorous, enough so that he sticks around, appearing like a surprise guest at your local haunts, feigning pleasant surprise to have ‘coincidentally crossed paths’ with you when you’re least expecting him.
♡In the beginning Raphael tolerates you - sees you as an amusing way to pass the time when his other prospects aren’t bearing fruit and his creature comforts are proving too lackluster for an appropriate distraction. But the more he visits, the more your life seems to shift to accommodate the devil.
♡ You aren’t the exception to his offers either. He’s produced the idea of a contract on more than one occasion, noting all of the time he took on the details of that little scroll of paper, tucked neatly away at the house of hope for the day that you agree to strike a deal. He says it as though it's fact, and you have no illusions he believes that entirely. But for now it stays as a playful banter, rolling off his offer with a sarcastic rebuttal that he’s better off saving that contract for the next poor soul he latches onto.
♡ It becomes a funny little routine, and the cambion makes no hesitation to make himself at home in your home as though he owns the place. Hells it’s as though he’s claimed the house - and it’s occupants - as an abode away from the house of hope. Knowing Raphael, he probably has.
♡ You find decorations that weren’t there before; alterations to your wardrobe and home with no room for doubt of who they’re from. Your comment that he doesn’t need to bribe you to get you to spend time with him is only met with a grin that’s all teeth and snark, as Raphael quickly corrects you that these are merely ‘investments’. You never get the chance to find out what these ‘investments’ are for.
♡ In return you listen to his waxing poetics, prodding and poking at the lines he recites as though ribbing an old friend. You know very well that on the wrong day, the wrong word would earn you his ire, but the fear of that being death and not a thinly veiled glare ebbs with each passing day. So you find yourself relaxing, daresay, even enjoying the devil’s company. And Raphael is reveling in the attention, more so than you will likely ever get him to admit aloud.
♡ Raphael will never call it infatuation. Fondness? Maybe; said once or twice with just enough of a casual tone to pass it off as his usual antics. Love is not to be found in his honeyed words and literature. But an appreciation and desire for what he wants? That he can work with, if you’re ever brave enough to ask.
♡ Not that you get to, before someone else gets involved on this little one on one. Really, do none of these mortals value their lives?
♡ Clearly the fool is nowhere near as sharp as the average mortal, as even the lingering scent of sulfur from Raphael’s latest appearance doesn’t deter them from pulling him aside. It’s a good thing they removed their hands before the devil decided to pry each finger off for the blatant disrespect, scowl already setting deep lines on his face as the being before him rattles on. Something about ‘flirting’ this, ‘don’t try anything that. Boring drivel as far as Raphael is concerned, until it clicks that this person is warding him off from you with claims that they got to you first.
♡ There are two ways that this encounter would pan out, depending on the mood that this poor sod catches the cambion in.
♡ IF (and this is a big if) they somehow manage to catch him in a tolerable moment, Raphael will be generous enough to divulge their ramblings for a second. Of course he doesn’t take this seriously. Since when did such feeble reasons as ‘we’re already together’ or declarations of their love for you ever matter? The grin on his face is mocking, downright taunting to the point this ‘suitor’ of yours grows too unnerved to continue this intervention’.
♡ Otherwise the disgust is palpable. Does this prat think for a second that whatever drabble comes out of their mouth is worth the man’s time? You, he likes. The others, he can tolerate. This little fidgeting pound of flesh? They’re lucky he hasn’t asked one of the pawns at his disposal to get rid of them yet. The only thing that keeps them alive is that they’re simply not worth the hassle. Even though his expression sours and the scowl on his face deepens as his gaze sharpens, dark eyes regarding them as a cat would regard an insect - enough to mess with, but hardly worth the meal to waste energy on.
♡ Raphael is at his core a meddler (to put it in nicer terms), so it is quite frankly a miracle that you don’t hear it from the mouth of the cambion himself after your ‘partner’s confrontation. He pays no mind to baseless warnings, honestly getting a kick out of doing anything but what they asked. Raphael doesn’t just want to wound their pride - he will rub salt, and dirt, and filth into that wound and let it fester for good measure for the insult. And you become the weapon for his self perceived revenge.
♡ The change is unmissable, and Raphael lays it on thick. Your days out in the city never come without the cambion’s company, a hand steadfast upon your lower back to guide you as you go about your errands. He even makes a show of walking you home after every excursion, when before he would leave you to your devices whatever time suited him. If only you knew the smug satisfaction it gave him imagining how your ‘partner’s blood must boil at the very sight. The message is clear: he’s not sharing this one.
♡ The gifts are more blatant as well - with statement pieces too big and too rich for any rational person to afford and yet you find them at your bedside damn near every other morning. Not knowing better you’re wary of his intentions, even though the devil donning his human guise insists that there’s no strings attached to this small transaction. “It’s only fitting that you’re donned in something opulent to match your company, isn’t it?” yet with the way he words it you know that wearing them is more than a request. Especially once you put them on, and catch his smirk of pride. Clearly going along with his ‘requests’ strokes his ego.
♡ This game is dead in the water by a few days, as Raphael’s attempt to rile up that lover of yours has them bursting at the seams in rage. That fool makes another attempt to pull him aside right outside of your door nonetheless, but this time Raphael is far less inclined to give them the mercy of this charade. They’d outlived their welcome the first encounter, and Raphael is in no mood to waste anymore time on them. Even in a human guise he’s more than capable of removing this bore, and only pauses to mull over how long it will take you to scrub whatever gristle is left of this person from your homestead by the time he’s done with them. Doesn’t even bother listening to the same spiel, casting a cursory glance to your front door behind the mortal debating if frying them to a crisp would damage the new decorations. No matter; he could always buy you better ones.
♡ That line of thought pauses at the sight of you at the door, only catching the briefest look of horror on your face before it scrunches up in anger. You cross the space in seconds - and Raphael is almost impressed by how fast your hands shoot out to wind into the collar of this mortal practically dragging them back and away from the cambion. It looks as though he doesn’t have to lift a finger to solve this little issue this time, if the way your face is alight with rage as you scream at this so-called ‘partner’ about their delusions is any indication.
♡ Oh, this is too good not to watch, and he is going to stand there and enjoy every second of it. Were Raphael not thoroughly enjoying the show he may have conjured a glass of wine to go along with the entertainment unfolding before him. Instead he will settle for watching the scene play out, far too happy in the knowledge that the pieces fall into place without him even moving the board in this confrontation. He’s seen you exasperated, seeing you upset and angry. But this? You’re pissed; to the point where your mouth appears to run faster than your brain, as in the middle of your shouting you jab a finger in Raphael’s direction, not even sparing him a glance as you snap.
♡ “- And I would take him over you any day! At least I actually like him!”
♡ Ah, there it is. His lip curls in triumph as his eyes blaze holes into the person shrinking and humiliated by your biting verbal assault. They make the mistake of glancing over at him at the wrong time, and for a second they swear they see shapes in Raphael's shadows, a smoldering hellfire behind dark eyes as his lips part, revealing a flash of sharp teeth as he mouths wordlessly to the mortal.
♡ 'I win.'
♡ They can’t get away fast enough, tripping over cobble and their own feet as they scarper away like a frightened animal. You’re spitting out curses as they go, a final shout to get lost breaking into a breathless huff as you watch them till they disappear from view. It isn’t until they’re long gone that you finally seem to ease, running a hand through your hair with a groan as you bemoan the headache this whole event has no doubt caused you.
♡ It seems for a second that you’ve forgotten your present company; that just won’t do. He sees you calm, watches the anger and tension as it seeps from your body with each haggard breath in the wake of your tirade attempting to recollect yourself. Then he watches you freeze, the tension winding up once again like a coil as the sound of slow, methodical clapping reaches your ears. Raphael waits till you’ve turned, mustering the courage to look the devil in the face before his hands clap together the last time, praising you for the impromptu show.
♡ You’ve never looked quite so shaken in his presence. You usually shoot back his banter so casually, and now you can’t quite look him in the eye - whatever could have caused that change, hm~? Finally realized the words you’d let slip?
♡ You can’t begrudge him for enjoying the moment, can you? It’s in his nature after all to see opportunity in all circumstances as you’ve seen firsthand. There’s a glint you can’t quite place in his eye as he remarks that he’s impressed; for just a mortal you sure managed to put the fear of the hells into the poor soul - send them running as though their lives depended on it. He knew you were brazen, but this was certainly something to witness. See, this is why you’re one of his favorite mortals, as he’s quick to remind you.
♡ A kinder soul would broach your feelings, fulfill or ease your fears at having blurted out such a thing. But that’s not a mercy you’re provided this time. It’s not brought up just yet - not here. No, instead Raphael will tuck that little bit of information away for later use at a more opportune time. Another card up the sleeve, though the knowledge stirs up a fire within his infernal soul now that he knows he’s drawn you in after such a tumultuous chase. It appears that this arrangement just became a bit more interesting~
#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader#bg3 raphael#raphael bg3#raphael x tav#request#anon#on todays episode of f around and find out#THIS GUY#raphael the cambion#bg3 raphael x reader
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Ok hear me out. I got this idea after the episode of Dean getting his "virginity" back and hooking up with the porn star when he's digging through her dresser and finds the DVD of her ANYWAY
Best friend Dean who's been pining after you for sooo long but doesn't want to fuck it up and lose you. You're hanging out when you ask him to go grab something from your room and he's digging through your drawers looking and accidentally comes across some lingerie and now it's days later and he's so hot and bothered cuz he can't think of anything else (the boy has a serious panty kink lets be honest) and you catch him in your room going through your drawers again and OH
A/N: As I warned y'all, this is a longer DD because, well, the prompt was long, so it's not really my fault. All that backstory took on a life of its own, but I think no one will be mad about it 😅 Again, I had tons of fun with this one! You'll see 🤣
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18/NSWF, a ridiculous heat wave, friends to lovers (Wayne's Version), crack, a panty kink, some sneaky fluff, and some hot lovin' aka smut (oral f & face sitting)
Word Count: 4.5k (whoops)
Main Masterlist || Dirty Drabbles
Cruel Summer
“You open the beaches on the 4th of July, it’s like ringing the dinner bell for Christ’s sake…”
As Jaws flickered across the screen in the Dean Cave, the green-eyed hunter adjusted himself in his seat. Usually, he had perfect control over himself and his feelings for you.
But on some days – like today – when you sat right next to him on the couch in nothing but a loose t-shirt and some short sweatpants, fanning yourself with an old magazine of Busty Asian Beauties as beads of salty sweat collected on your forehead and trickled down your neck, you made it hard for him.
“God, I’m so hot,” you sighed exhaustively and sunk further into the couch cushions, lifting your shirt from your sticky skin to let some cool air to your boobs as a heat wave ravaged through Kansas.
Painfully hard.
“Dean?” You pouted with your best puppy dog look at your best friend.
“Huh?” Dean was in trance, watching you more than the movie, always on the edge of getting caught one of these days.
“We’re out of Sour Patch Kids. I have more in my nightstand. Can you get them for me please?” you asked sweetly. “I don’t wanna move. I might actually die from heat exhaustion.”
Dean sighed and wordlessly rose from his seat. He knew you always kept an array of salty and sweet midnight snacks in your room in case you got hungry and didn’t want to wander into the kitchen in the middle of the night.
Moreover, he was grateful for the break. God knows he couldn’t stand to be around you any longer, or he would’ve been too tempted to rip your clothes off and really make you sweat.
I’ll show her a damn heat exhaustion, he thought with a scoff.
Hastily grabbing the desired snack, his green eyes then caught something red and lacy sticking out from the first drawer of your dresser. The hunter knew the decent and honest thing would’ve been to just keep moving and leave your godforsaken room.
Turn around, as Bonnie Tyler sang. But for some reason, his bright eyes couldn’t resist, his curiosity overtaking him.
Dean opened the drawer with the intention to push the naughty little clothing item back into its place and out of sight. Get rid of the temptation, so to speak. It sounded like the perfect loophole. He got to touch it and look at it, but for a very heroic and noble reason – not because he was a creepy perv, violating his best friend’s privacy.
On some level, Dean knew he’d never stand a chance with you. He wasn’t good enough. He had so much baggage all his suitcases wouldn’t even fit into the bunker.
A damn touch of a pair of panties you weren’t even wearing was all he would ever get from you.
But then his fingers touched the soft and see-through material, his pads tracing every delicate scarlet thread with precision and care. It was game over for him then and there, cursing himself internally for not resisting harder as his cock twitched joyfully in his jeans.
Dean had laid his eyes on you the second you strolled with swinging hips into that diner in Wichita for your very first case together, a werewolf hunt six years ago. And he had managed to get by without an incident for years since then, even when you moved into the bunker, being rather proud of that achievement. He never wanted to lose you as a friend and didn’t dare to cross a line. Ever.
Recently, though, it became more difficult to keep his distance and not let his thoughts wander. His feelings were magma that slowly had filled a volcano over the years. Each time you did something sexy or sweet or goofy or smart, another drop was added. And now, that damn fire mountain was overdue for an eruption – no thanks to that stupid heat wave.
“Thanks,” you said absentmindedly as the hunter handed you the candy but didn’t settle back down. Instead, he stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands on the backrest.
What you didn’t know, though, was that Dean was sporting quite the boner and wouldn’t dare to come into your line of view. He was surprised he could even walk up straight and not like a caveman early in the evolution.
A hunter gathering panties.
“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he told you with a somber clear of his throat. As the fan carried a breeze of your perfume to his nose, his grip tightened on the couch.
You turned in your seat and looked over your shoulder at him, raising a surprised brow. “Already? But the movie’s not over.”
“Yeah, I’m beat,” he excused and tried his best not to look strained. He forced a tight smile to his lips while his little dude celebrated Spring Break in his jeans. “‘Sides, we’ve seen Jaws like a million times now, Y/N.”
It was a cherished summer tradition between the two of you, watching it every 4th of July.
“I guess so.” You shrugged disappointedly, watching your best friend retreat to his room. Truth was, you loved spending time with Dean and held those little traditions close to your heart.
The Winchesters were your family, the only one you ever had. And while some families wore matching pajamas on Christmas morning, you watched the first two Die Hard movies. You would watch Dean’s favorite horror movies on Halloween. Sixteen Candles and High Fidelity on your birthday, Tombstone and The Great Escape on Dean’s, and some lame-ass foreign language documentaries that you both snored through on Sam’s.
Valentine’s Day was a dreaded non-holiday for all three of you, but for the past four years, someone would leave a box of chocolate in front of your door. The salted caramel ones would always be missing, and it always came with the same Forrest Gump quote:
I’m not a smart man, but I know what love is.
You knew the anonymous someone was Dean, and you knew he meant it as a joke. Still, you clung to those little traditions. They might seem silly and stupid to some, but to you, they were your lifeline in a world full of darkness.
So, you felt rather saddened Dean didn’t seem to honor them anymore. It wasn’t just Jaws, either. He’d been withdrawing from you for a while, and you didn’t understand why.
Unbeknownst to you, the green-eyed hunter had kept a lacy souvenir from your room.
Now, Dean had managed to avoid you for four days. Every night since his stealthy excursion, he would lie in his bed with your stolen panties in one hand and his throbbing length in the other, feeling goddamn pathetic for sinking so low.
It was probably so low that even his memory foam mattress would remember it.
With closed eyes, he then imagined how the perky globes of your ass would look like covered in crimson lace. How you would stretch out on his bed on all fours, with your ass high in the air and wiggling in front of him. How his fingers would push the wicked material aside to push into you, taking you deep and hard while you moaned his name.
As he ruined tissue after tissue, the guilt would wash over him as soon as he was done. Call it a post-nut epiphany.
Dean knew it was wrong to think those things. He knew he only made it harder for himself to ever look you into the eyes again. Hell, he barely could do it now, even though a part of him audaciously wondered what other treasures were hiding in that drawer of yours. And more pressingly, what ultimate wealth he would find beneath your clothes. If your lingerie was gold, he’d be a creepy-ass dragon sitting on it.
So, Dean tried to avoid you as best as possible. Mostly because, well…
“God, fuck me,” you groaned exhaustively and opened the refrigerator door, leaning against it as the refreshing cold hit you from behind. On top of that, you held a big bag of frozen peas to your sweaty chest. You already wore the bare minimum – some short denims and a white tank top, your hair up in a messy bun.
“I swear underboob sweat is the worst. Just be glad you don’t have tits,” you complained. “Guys, seriously, can we invest in an AC? This heat wave is killing me! This bunker is like one giant oven…”
You watched as Dean squirmed in his seat as he ate his cereal, looking as uncomfortable as you. Surely, the boys were suffering just as badly during those sweltering temperatures, already forgoing the usual flannels and opting for plain t-shirts instead. How they were still wearing jeans was beyond you. When you first moved in, you protested against Dean’s suggestion of Naked Tuesdays, but these days, you were actually giving it a second thought.
“Well, I’m gonna drive to Kansas City today and see if I can get us an AC. Apparently, they’re all sold out, but I figured maybe with a bit of flirting and some cleavage, I can still get us one,” you explained your plan with a bright smirk and wiggled your eyebrows. “What d’you guys think, huh?”
Dean then abruptly banged his fist on the table, spilling some milk from his bowl on the surface. “For God’s sake, Y/N!”
You frowned in confusion at his unexpected outburst. “What’s up with you? Are you having a heat stroke?”
“Flirting, really?!” the hunter barked, his brow shaped into a deeply furious v.
“What’s wrong with that? Double standard much? You do it all the time to get shit,” you countered and watched his jaw clench in anger.
“I do-... not,” he remarked snappily with a fierce finger drilling into the table, clearly lacking a good argument. Sam cleared his throat in agreement with you, but that only earned him a glare. “And Jesus fucking Christ, would it hurt you to put on some goddamn clothes? You’re not even wearing a bra!”
“Did you not hear my tits rant just now? Of course I’m not! ‘Sides, those boobs are gonna get you an AC, so be a little more grateful to them,” you retorted, annoyed with his attitude. You’d think of all the people in this world, Dean Winchester would understand. (And maybe even appreciate it.) “And how can you even tell, huh?”
“‘Cause science, Y/N! You’re literally cooling your tits! What did you think was gonna happen, huh? Nipples!” he vented outrageously. “This ain’t a strip club!”
“It’s 102 degrees, Dean!” you argued, throwing your arms up. “Look, if I could, I’d even go naked, alright? It’s fucking hot!”
“Oh, for crying out loud!” Dean shook his head and stormed out of the kitchen without any further comment.
Confused, you blinked at the younger Winchester. “What’s up with him?”
But Sam only shrugged, shaking his head. “Uhm, I don’t know,” he replied, although he could take an educated guess, suspecting his brother’s feelings for you as the culprit.
“Well, alright, I’m going to Kansas City,” you decided without wasting another thought on the older Winchester’s strange behavior. “Text me if you guys need something. I can pick it up on my way home.”
Dean knew he was in deep trouble as his bow legs bolted down the bunker’s hallways. He tried so hard to keep it together, but when he saw you, half-naked and panting in front of the fridge, he quite literally lost his coolness in this goddamn heat wave.
The green-eyed hunter understood a thing or two about torture, but this was the worst of all. He’d rather have a demon repeatedly peel off his skin in hellfire than endure a day more of this fucking madness.
If the temperatures didn’t drop soon, it would be a cruel summer ahead of him.
As Dean heard the door to the garage close, he knew you’d left for your trip and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. At least he’d get a few hours of peace.
With the best intentions, he strolled to his bedroom, but as he passed your room on his way, he found the door ajar. Whatever good motives he had up until this point, went quickly out the window right then.
His hand twitched at the thought of more riches, worse than any trigger finger and competing with a California earthquake, and well, so did the dick in his jeans. It was an addiction at this point, an obsession he couldn’t resist nor get rid off. The fact that it was forbidden and wrong only made it even more appealing. The apple in the garden of Eden.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t an anonymous support group for this kind of sickness.
As unbearable shame and guilt collected in his stomach like rainwater in the gutter, his eager hands rummaged through your dresser drawer. There was purple lace and black satin, navy G-strings and white Brazilians. It was never ending, and the hunter couldn’t stop as he picked up each item and let his fantasies roam wild.
God, the things he wanted to do to you were as colorful as your rainbow full of underwear.
“Dean?!”
The green-eyed hunter froze in his place, a white lace panty still bunched up in his large palm. The hair in the back of his neck stood up in shock, a part of him refusing to turn around at the sound of your voice. He was caught red-handed, and he knew it.
“What are you doing in my room?” you prompted, suspiciously cocking an eyebrow. It looked fairly obvious what your best friend was up to, but you didn’t want to accuse him right away, giving him the benefit of the doubt.
Frankly, it was quite unbelievable.
“It’s not what it looks like,” Dean replied and swallowed thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he held up his hands like a criminal during an arrest, the evidence still in his grasp.
“Well, it looks like you’re snooping through my lingerie,” you pointed out bluntly.
Dean nodded, guilt-ridden and reluctant. “I can explain.”
“Good,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m waiting…”
“Right, uhm…”
“Oh, before you scramble for an answer, you should know, though, that I’m aware a pair of red lace panties is missing, and I know the washer didn’t eat them,” you said and raised an expectant brow.
You had a feeling your pervy best friend was behind the mystery of the missing item. Now you knew for sure.
“Man, I always knew you were a kinky son of a bitch, but this is a new level, Dean,” you scolded.
Dean’s gaze dropped to the floor in shame, scratching the nape of his neck. “Look, uhm, there’s no good excuse. I know I fucked up here. I’ll sleep in a motel tonight until I find my own place. You can stay here with Sam, alright? I’ll move out and won’t bother you anymore.”
As he tried to brush past you, you blocked his exit and grabbed his arm. “So, you’re gonna leave? Just like that?”
“What other choice do I have? I don’t wanna make you more uncomfortable,” he stated without glancing at you once. He couldn’t bring himself to look into your eyes and see the disappointment and disgust there. “I know what I did was wrong.”
“Oh, so wrong,” you agreed. “I just figured you wouldn’t run away like a coward and take your punishment like a man, you know? Aren’t you at all curious what I’m wearing right now?”
That was when Dean’s juniper eyes slowly wandered to you and caught your gaze for the first time. You smirked as his breathing became heavy and his look darkened and filled with lust. It seemed like he wanted to rip your clothes off with his goddamn bare teeth like a wild animal.
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or if I’m dreaming,” he admitted, his deep voice part harsh swallow and part nervous chuckle.
“Neither,” you said, biting your bottom lip.
Carefully, you leaned closer, your hands reaching up to cup his scruffy cheeks. Noses nuzzled as your lips ghosted against his with a daring grin. You wouldn’t go further; it was up to Dean to make that final decision.
And then, as no more than a mere second ticked by on the clock, the hunter crashed his lips against yours in a kiss so scorching it made the current heat wave look like an ice age. If you thought you were hot before, now it felt like you were burning in a wildfire.
Dean roughly pushed you against the door, his kiss all teeth and tongue in an uncontrollable frenzy. His dick was hard and thick, straining against his jeans and rubbing along your thigh. Pantingly, you gasped for air and grabbed his hand, guiding it down your body and into your shorts.
“Feel that?” you asked mischievously as his fingers dug through your soaked folds and collected the arousal he caused. A wanton growl left his plush lips. “All for you, baby. You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?”
“Shit, yeah, so bad…” Dean rasped huskily against your throat as he worshipped his path down your body, forcing your shirt up till his wet tongue rolled over your pert and still cold nipple.
“Gonna make it up to me, huh? Show me how sorry you are?” you prompted, your fingers raking through his sandy blond and soft hair, eliciting a groan from him every time you tugged a little harder.
Teeth pinched your skin, tongue cherished your taste, and lips left your throat bruised. It was equal parts hot, sweaty, messy, naughty, dirty, and sticky as your bodies rutted against one another, looking for dire release.
With swollen and plumper than before lips, he came back up for air and found your eyes. He kissed you with heated passion once more as if he couldn’t resist to touch you over and over again. He had to restrain himself to be able to speak.
“So, uhm, you sure about this?” Dean asked between labored breaths with an insecure gleam in his green eyes. “‘Cause if we go further, I don’t think I can stop. And I don’t mean just this time but ever… If you want this to be a one time thing, you gotta tell me, sweetheart, so I can mentally prepare myself. I mean, I’ll take what I can get, you know? Not that I care either way… Well, that’s not true. I do care. A lot… But, you know, you’re you, and I’m me, so I’m not delusional. I know there’s no way you would–”
You interrupted his babbling with a kiss, causing the hunter to lose his words. You looked deeply into his eyes and offered him a small smile of comfort.
“Dean, listen to me, okay? ‘Cause this is very important,” you urged, your hands gripping his shirt tightly.
He nodded, gulping anxiously. “O-Okay.”
“You’re incredible,” you said and watched him inhale sharply at your words, blinking at you in disbelief. “Absolutely fucking bonkers incredible. You’re right – you’re you. And thank God you are, because you’re the best, funniest, smartest, kindest, and goddamn hottest man I’ve ever met. I’m tired of you not seeing that. As my boyfriend, I really need to you to see that, alright?”
As Dean pensively took in your words, his brow began to furrow. “Boyfriend?”
The corners of your mouth rose to a beam. “Yeah, boyfriend,” you confirmed. “That’s what you want, right? ‘Cause I’d really like that, too.”
“Uh, yeah, yeah… That’s what I want.” Dean nodded eagerly before another swallow followed. “I mean, among other things…”
You bit your lip, smirking. “What other things?”
“Well, uhm…”
Dean didn’t finish his sentence, his lips impatiently claiming yours instead. He pressed you hungrily back against the door, massive hands sliding down your sides till they hooked into the hem of your denim shorts and ripped them down to your ankles, leaving you only covered in teal lace. He growled shamelessly at the sight, his thick digits eagerly diving inside.
“Wanna be inside you,” he groaned into your ear, thumbing furiously at your clit. “Every hour of every day…”
“We can do that,” you agreed with a giggle, your arms locking around his neck, fingers carding through his hair in the back.
“Wanna feel your mouth around my–” The last word was muffled as he ravaged your neck, but you understood where he was going with this.
“You can do that,” you said with a smile.
“And fuck, I want you to ride my face,” he declared. That demand left you speechless, making even Dean stop for a minute and look at you. “Too far?”
You shook your head and smirked. “I can do that.”
Before Dean’s mind could fathom your words, you shoved him onto the bed, his back hitting the mattress. When you stood before him, slotted between his muscular legs, his gaze trailed up and down your body, memorizing every beautiful curve. As your fingers curled into the waistband of your panties, however, the hunter stopped you.
“Leave ‘em on, sweetheart. Don’t you dare take those off,” he told you, his hands rapaciously reaching out to you.
You played with the hem of your top and smirked, your tongue licking over your lips. “What about this? On or off?”
“Off,” he shot back faster than a bullet leaving a barrel.
“You first,” you demanded and grinned. “Remember, this is still your punishment.”
“God, I love getting punished,” Dean mumbled and slipped out of his shirt. He then swiftly shimmied out of his jeans, discarding each item carelessly around the room.
He then took a deep breath as he tugged the waistband of his boxers, his erection already fighting its way out. “Well, here goes nothing,” the hunter said and pulled his underwear down.
You tilted your head to see his hard cock from a better angle as it sprang against his stomach. Your lips parted in anticipation, wondering what he’d taste like on your tongue and how deep you’d be able to take him. You guessed there’d be a struggle ahead, considering how huge and wide he was.
“Oh, I would not call that monster nothing,” you commented with a scoff, your pussy throbbing with need. “Explains all that BDE.”
Dean blushed. It was cute to watch. “Thank you.”
Giggling, you removed your shirt and tossed it at his face, blinding him for a second. You used that momentum to slide onto the bed and straddle his torso. As his eyes finally found you again, he almost choked on his spit when he gazed up at your perfect tits above him. A primal grunt escaped his throat.
With a mesmerized sparkle in his eyes, his hands trailed up your body and cupped your breasts, massaging them roughly as your panties grew damper by the minute. He then pulled you down to his lips and kissed you breathless before he left them with a boyish smirk on his freckled face.
“Hop on, sweetheart.”
And as if his words hadn’t been enough motivation, his hands wandered to palm your ass and hauled you closer to his mouth. He was an impatient one – or maybe he’d waited years for this and was finally tired of it.
Your knees sunk into the mattress on either side of his stubborn head. His fingers dented your flesh as they grabbed onto your thighs. Yours held onto the headboard for support. You tried not to look down, because then you’d see his big lopsided and full of excitement grin.
The same one he had when you found a diner in Kentucky that advertised the biggest burger in America (it wasn’t). The same one he had when he thought he had run into a member of Metallica at a gas station outside of Phoenix (he didn’t). The same one he had when you and Sam gifted him his own beer brewing station for his last birthday (which tasted horrible, but neither you nor Sam had the heart to tell him).
And now, he had that same grin when he was about to be with you.
As your pussy dripped above him, Dean couldn’t hold back his lewd groans any longer. You didn’t even have to lower yourself; he just dragged you down onto his face all to eagerly. His fingers swiped your panties to the side, and before you could even adjust your grip on the bedpost, his tongue darted into your soaked channel as deeply as he could and sucked you goddamn dry.
With several whimpers, you clenched around his wet muscle. If you were water in the desert, he was parched and drinking to survive.
His nose was buried in your folds, rubbing deliciously against your clit as he lapped your pussy in a vicious attack that left you squirming and moaning to a pornographic degree above him. Because Dean was just that – pure porn.
Instinctively and irresistibly, you ground your cunt against him, the vibrations of his keen groans against your sensitive flesh rocking you to the edge of your climax. He ate you out and devoured you like that damn gigantic burger in Kentucky. And as you dared to blink down and watch him in action, he had the audacity to devilishly smirk up at you with the crinkles around his green eyes alone, gauging your every reaction to his touches as if you were a goddamn movie on a silver screen.
You trembled and quivered and screamed as your orgasm electrified every molecule in your body. You white-knuckled the wood in your grip, your body only held up by Dean’s strong arms because God knows your weak legs were useless now.
As wave after wave washed over you, Dean drank every drop of yours, his tongue never getting enough of your taste. The sounds that filled the room were carnal and obscene.
“Fuck, Dean,” you sighed blissfully and lifted off his face and captured his swollen and red lips in a grateful kiss, your palms finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Your drenched and sensitive cunt settled on his thighs as an egregiously large erection poked your belly and tempted you further.
Dean smirked up at you, all satisfied and confident with his achievement. “I think we have a slight problem, though.”
Your brow knitted, your heart tightening with anxiety. Had you been as disappointing as the burger, beer, and that fake Metallica band member?
But Dean only grinned teasingly at your confused face. “There’s no way I learned my lesson here.”
You snorted and sought out his lips, the kiss giving you a taste of yourself. “We’ll work on that. I might have to nickname you Jaws after this,” you joked.
“Can’t wait for you to explain that one to Sammy.” Dean snorted, chuckling. “Now, how about you hop on again, but this time a little further south, huh?” he proposed with a wiggle of his eyebrows and a suggestive twitch of his cock for emphasis.
You giggled with a few nods. “I can do that.”
Was it worth the words? 😝
For all you newcomers and as a general reminder, Dirty Drabbles are always open. I still have quite a few left, but you're welcome to send more in, and we'll add it to the collection at some point 😎🔥
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⇝ midnight .
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!AFAB!Reader.
PART ONE OF MÉNAGE.
SUMMARY: Simon makes the mistake of spending the night before one of the longest missions of his career in the arms of a woman he met at a pub, unaware of the consequences it would have on his life moving forward.
WARNINGS: AFAB!Fem!Reader (no use of Y/N!) NSFW [ Oral (F receiving), Degradation, Praising, size difference/kink, dacryphilia, dumbification, slight bondage, frottage, unprotected P in V, overstimulation, various orgasms, creampie.], Angst, Pregnancy, mentions of abortion, kind of OOC Simon? He’s just soft when he’s not Ghost, Canon typical violence.
A/N: My first COD fic! It also happens to be the longest piece of writing I've ever done 😵! This is the first part of a series I've been planning on writing for a while, so I'll hopefully get the second part out soon! Please don't forget to reblog/comment if you enjoy the fic, it helps a lot!!! Thanks for all the support!! <3
WORD COUNT: 10.1k.
MASTERLIST.
Also on Ao3!
Going out wasn't one of Ghost's favourite things to do.
Even after getting back to his tiny flat in Manchester following a horribly long mission and shedding his mask, going back to the burly man his neighbours knew as Simon, some random guy who had moved in a few years ago and seldom stepped outside except for the random smoking session some of them would see him having on his balcony; he didn't enjoy going out.
So when he finally was able to relax onto his shitty leather sofa and catch up with some of the footy games he had missed while away, all he wanted more than anything was a good whiskey in his favourite (cleanest) glass.
And almost like a cartoon character staring at their empty wallet, Simon stared ahead at his liquor cabinet, jaw clenched as he spied at the remaining drops of alcohol that were left in the bottle, remembering the mental note he had made before leaving his flat the last time to get himself the alcohol he had chugged down during one of his depressive episodes.
So, in a fit of anger, he shoved on whatever clean clothes he could find in his duffle bag, skull balaclava pulled over his messy hair, and stomped down the stairs to the nearest Tesco…
…only to find it closed.
And fuck him if he was going to walk the extra hour to the nearest Morrison's just to get some shitty whiskey bottle to drown his sorrows in. At this point, he'd just go and sit in a corner of a pub, nursing what he would hope would be an acceptable liquor.
He was absolutely pissed by the time he made it into the homey bar, the universe having decided to make it it's personal mission to fuck him up today and making the worst storm possible start to rain upon Manchester.
Oh, and of course, the pub's tables were all full of teenagers (who definitely had fake IDs, no way they were all 18), and some old geezers who were shouting at the football game on TV (great, Manchester was loosing, another thing to worsen his night), leaving the only available seat one in the middle of the bar next to some woman chatting amicably to the waiter, who seemed a bit more interested in her cleavage than in what she had to say.
He slipped into the seat silently, his clear eyes death-staring into the bartender's, immediately scaring him shitless ("Yer about ta kill me with that look, Lt." Johnny had once joked about his murderous gaze, and to be fair, Simon was slightly hoping the scot would combust and die right there.), no doubt believing that he was with the woman and was about to punch his teeth in for staring longer than he should have.
As he scurried off into the back, you turned to him, taken aback at first as you made eye contact with the towering, wet, balaclava-clad man who was staring back at you, but you were brave enough to smile kindly at him, going back to running your finger over the rim of your drink, which Simon noticed was still and hardly drank out of, despite the lipstick smudges around the top. You'd been here a while, and by the way your leg was nervously jumping up and down as time passed by, he could only assume you'd been stood up.
Now, Simon wasn't dumb, far from it; and Simon was smart enough to recognize when someone was attractive, and he was pretty sure that the woman in front of him was drop-dead gorgeous despite the sad look that adorned your features. So, if he was correct, he couldn't even begin to fathom how someone could even start to think of standing up a woman like you, especially after inviting her to this shitty pub, where the food had definitely given him food poisoning before.
He hadn't realised how deep in thought he must have been while staring at your glass until a soft hand rested against his bicep, eyes instantly flashing back towards yours, instincts haywire from having been pulled out from his thoughts so suddenly.
"Sorry!" You immediately retracted your hand from his arm, smiling apologetically up at him before turning your gaze back to the golden liquid. "I asked if you were okay. I can't imagine walking around in a storm with just that on." You gestured towards his shirt, allowing Simon to look down and stare at the tight T-shirt he had chosen to wear, a few dirt stains decorating it in the worst way possible, having dressed for the occasion that was a 10pm trip to Tesco and not meeting up with a pretty woman at a pub.
"Wasn't planning on walking 'round." He grumbled out, his voice deeper than what you had expected, the thick accent and scratchy sound of it making shivers run down your spine and heat pool into your stomach, becoming horrified with yourself that you allowed such a minimal thing like a masked man's voice get you all hot and flustered like this.
"'Nd you? Doesn't seem like you're dressed for a night out at the Crown's." His eyes moved towards your dress, surprised with himself that he had actively been the one to continue the conversation; his thick hand reaching over to grab his drink from the bartender's hand (which he must have ordered during the haze he had been in before.) as he awaited your answer.
"Oh." He watched you smooth down your hair out from the corner of his eye, your hands shaky as they found comfort around the fancy glass of your whiskey. Or was it bourbon? Maybe rum? You seemed like the type of woman to appreciate a good glass of liquor. "Yeah, 'm waiting for someone."
He watched your eyes dart over to the clock hanging on the wall opposite you both, the little hand nearing the number 11.
"Could've taken you somewhere nicer." He commented, taking a jab at both the pub and your missing date, the small breathless chuckle that left your lips catching his attention.
"Yeah. Not like I expected a reservation at the Ritz, but somewhere that doesn't look like my grandad's favourite pub would be nice." You joked over the sound of some of the old men cheering in the background over some team scoring a goal, and while Simon would've normally turned around to make sure it had been Manchester, he was too focused on the mesmerising way your eyes looked in the dim light, your eyelashes fluttering innocently as you continued what had started as small talk, that evolved into friendly conversation and him buying you another drink, and that ended with him waiting for you outside the bathrooms, holding onto your tiny umbrella.
Simon wasn't one to frequent in hook-ups, but how enticing you had been when talking to him, the way your body looked in that dress and how you'd brushed your soft hand against his bicep (this time with another intent other than to snap him out of his stupor), had left him wanting, nay, craving more from you.
So when you looked out the window behind him before gesturing to the small umbrella hanging from your bag and asked if he wanted to take you home, he would have been demented to deny you.
His screen's brightness lit up his face as he scrolled over the scarce messages he had received across the almost 10 years he had had this crappy phone, about to delete Soap's number before you came out, a smile on your face and makeup freshly applied.
"Some girls helped me with my makeup in there." You commented happily, fingertips brushing over the blush that had been applied to the apples of your cheeks, which made you somehow look even more enticing than before. "I didn't have time to look in the mirror, but I hope it looks okay."
"Looks nice on you." He let out after processing your new look, his chest tightening as your smile somehow widened and your eyes brightened, having learned across the few hours you had spent together that Simon wasn't really one to show his emotions towards anyone, so a short compliment like that was a big step.
"You think?" You didn't wait for an answer, your hand finding his and starting to lead him out of the shadowy corner he had taken refuge in while your time in the bathroom, letting him push open the exit door so he could open up the umbrella, not caring about the raindrops falling onto him and darkening his clothes, the rain getting caught onto his eyelashes like morning dew on a spiders web, the beautiful orbs drawing you in like a butterfly happily flying into a spider's nest.
The umbrella was open and poised on top of you before you could even step out of the pub, Simon doing his best so you wouldn't be touched by the rain, aware of how uncomfortable some people got when it came to water running down your back or touching your face (especially when you looked so so pretty with your make-up.). Along with his massive frame walking next to you, you were pretty sure there was no way a single drop of water would touch your skin the whole way back home.
Which ended up being almost silent, you leading the way and commenting on random stores or things you passed, brightening up every time you got a chuckle out of him and melting whenever his hand would wrap around your waist as you passed some creepy man or a suspicious-looking group of teens, pulling you into his side so no one would even think of messing with you.
You were highly aware of how dangerous it was in hindsight to take some random man home (whose face you hadn't even seen yet!), but Simon made you feel safe, special, in some weird way… like as long as you were in his vicinity, nothing could happen to you, nothing could harm you. And you wanted to cling onto that feeling, onto the feeling of protection and warmth that Simon extruded.
So you didn't think twice about it, even as you slipped the key into the front door to your apartment complex and stood next to him the whole elevator ride up to your floor, his hand curled around yours with his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, the soft action enough to make heat pool into your tummy and your panties, getting worked up over casual affection from the breathtaking man.
"Y'sure about this, lovie?" His raspy voice made you fumble with your keys as he came up behind you, watching you struggle to unlock your flat as his breath hit your ear. "Tell me to leave and I will. Last chance."
Your breathing grew shaky as his own warmed your cheek, the way he worded it making it seem like the act you were both about to perform was something akin to letting a beast free, and even if it was, as long as Simon was the one to do it, you would have let him do anything.
"Yes." You managed to get out as your door finally opened, not even getting the time to take a step in before his hands were all over you, pushing you into the apartment and slamming the door closed behind him with his foot, his balaclava somehow being pulled up to his nose, high enough so you could gaze upon his soft pink lips and the blond stubble that adorned his chin and slightly crooked nose, aware that you would have spent hours tracing his features with your eyes, engraving them to memory, but he took away any thoughts away from you as he slotted his lips with yours.
You learned immediately that Simon's kisses were desperate, sloppy, needy. The way his hands gripped at your hips and his teeth nibbled onto your bottom lip, tongue running over yours as he trailed his palms down your thighs onto your feet, wrenching off your heels and ripping apart your tights, ignoring the angered whine that left your lips.
"Easier access, lovie." He murmured against your lips, finally pulling back with a sleazy grin on his lips, a string of spit connecting you both before breaking, allowing you a bit of time to catch your breath while he took in your living room, staring at the doors. "Bedroom?"
"Th- That one-" You hazardly pointed towards one of the doors behind you, squealing out loud as he grabbed you effortlessly and started to carry you towards your room, thighs pressed to his sides and ankles crossed behind his back, making sure to cling onto him so he wouldn't randomly drop you (Although by the way his muscles barely tensed when he had picked you up, and how easily he seemed to navigate around while carrying you made you think that there was no way he'd let you fall.)
Your back finally hit your familiar soft mattress, hands clenching onto your silk sheets as he watched you like a hawk, hands resting on the space of your thighs near your now-dripping cunt, thumbs rubbing into the soft pudge.
"Fuck… Just look t'you." He rumbled out, your cheeks growing warm as he continued to stare without moving, enjoying the way you started to squirm beneath his touch. "Calm, lovie, jus' taking my time wiv' you."
You mewled out at the deep tone his voice took, thighs threatening to close as one of his hands made his way towards your clothed cunt, which had been made accessible thanks to your now-ripped tights that had been left behind in the living room.
Simon forced your thighs back open with a grunt, glassy eyes darkening as he watched your own hands come up to cover your face out of embarrassment, letting himself soak in it for a moment before finally starting to act.
"Lean up f'me." You obeyed immediately, trembling under his touch as he slowly pulled your dress off, letting it pool onto the floor along with his shirt, which he had quickly gotten rid of as soon as you were in your lingerie. His eyes roamed the lace for a moment before letting out a dry chuckle, looking up at you to find you ogling at his scarred chest, almost drooling at the sight of his well built pecs and stomach. "Tryin' to get lucky tonight?" He spoke, fingers snapping your bra strap, thinking back to why you were originally at that pub in the first place.
"Shut up." You grumbled, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up the bed so you could continue kissing him, having been left craving more ever since that breathtaking one in the foyer.
He didn't complain, quickly indulging you as he slotted his lips with yours once again, his kiss as sloppy as needy as before, openly moaning against them as your hands run under his balaclava to pull at the short strands of his coarse hair, his own hands wrapping your thighs around his waist so your clothed pussy could grind against the hard material of his trousers over his hardened cock, rejoicing in the way your moans and whines sounded as he drank them up.
"S'needy." He chastised softly as he pulled away, moving you both towards the top of the bed so you could rest your head on your pillows, catching your breath while he started slipping off his belt and trousers (the belt being placed on the bed, just in case), and letting you gaze upon the tent in his boxers, shivering at the monstrous sight of his cock, trying to imagine how in the living fuck would he fit inside you if he couldn't even fit properly in his boxers, pulling out a moan from your lipstick smudged lips at the simple thought of being fucked by such a tool.
"Like it?" He chuckled, slowly starting to lean down with his hands on your thighs, pulling one of them over his shoulder so he was face to face with your covered cunt, his breath warm as it hit your clit, making you whine. "Gunna let me have a taste?"
"Y-Yes, god, yes, Simon, please-" You breathed out all at once, desperate for his touch after the slow teasing, watching what was visible of his face scrunch up in mock laughter as he revelled in your whines.
"As you wish, lovie."
He didn't even bother pushing your panties aside before taking a lick of your cunt from bottom to top, pressing soft kisses to your clit to hear your desperate whines and feel your thighs shake beneath his touch, continuing to slowly make out with your clothed pussy, purposefully driving you insane with his limited touches.
"Off, off, pl-please, Si, please -" You whined, pushing his head away in an attempt to start to pull your panties down, crying out in frustration as he didn't budge, a growl leaving his lips and sending vibrations up your cunt.
"Don't touch. I'm taking my fucking time, pretty. Or would you rather me stick my cock into you without any prep?" You moaned out loudly at the thought, back threatening to arch as he slowly grasped at your panties, a humourless chuckle leaving his pretty lips. "Yeah, I bet your slutty pussy'd love that, wouldn't it, lovie?" He purred before finally sliding down your pants, taking a moment to stare at your cunt and let you squirm before slowly spreading your thighs again, immediately shoving his face into his prize and repeating his movements from before, but faster and rougher, letting you feel every inch of his tongue as it ran over your lips and slowly inched inside of your hole, your moans and silent screams only edging him further on until he took your engorged clit into his mouth and started sucking, placing a hand on your stomach and pushing your arching back down onto the mattress.
He was surprised, to say the least. Yes, he'd realised you were sensitive as soon as he had kissed you for the first time, but he hadn't expected you to almost burst into tears from being eaten out (He wasn't even /trying/ to make you cry, he wondered what would happen if he did.), so he wondered if all the men you'd been with before had gone down on you, but by the way you were reacting to such simple touches, he was pretty sure he knew the answer.
"So fuckin' sweet, baby." He murmured into your pussy as he let go of your swollen clit, giving your hole some attention as the hand that was on your tummy ran down to circle your clit, overstimulating you in the best way possible. "Taste like fuckin' heaven."
"Si- Simon-" you whined his name out so so sweetly, music to the normally cold lieutenant's ears. "Gonn- Fuuuck! 'Na cum! Please, please, Si, need to-"
"S'okay, let go for me, lovie." He basically purred into you as he continued licking contently at your gushing hole, fingers tactically rubbing on your clit, before changing spots, taking your clit back into his mouth and letting his fingers slip in to you, preening at the sweet gasp that left your lips at the sudden intrusion, his coarse fingers moving in and out and immediately finding that one spot that made your back arch and toes curl, and just as he was taught in the military, he took advantage of the weak spot (in this case, your sweet spot.) and didn't stop brushing his fingers against it, the increasing sound of his name alerting him of your upcoming orgasm.
And once the coil within your stomach snapped and Simon finally let your back arch of the bed, your release gushing out of you and coating his hand and wrist, you let out the loudest moan of his name, the sound immediately going to his painfully hard cock, but he didn't stop, tongue not ceasing its assault on your clit and fingers continuing to rub against your g-spot until you finally came down from your high, brain mushy and eyes glassy as you stared up at the cream ceiling.
"Such a good girl." He purred out as he finally stopped, retracting his wet fingers and taking them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around and cleaning off all of the slick you had left from your orgasm, savouring it like he would with a lollipop. "Fuckin' taste amazing."
You whined in response, the embarrassment from having cummed so fast and having to watch him lick up all your release finally catching up to you, shaky hands moving to cover your sweaty face.
He clicked his tongue, grabbing them before they could cover your pretty features and holding them together in one hand.
"No, baby. Don't want you fuckin' hiding f'me." He snapped, slowly pulling them upwards so that they were pinned against the headboard, his other hand moving to gather the belt he had discarded not so long ago, quickly taking advantage of your cum-lax state to wrap it around your wrists, making sure it was tight enough to constrict you, but not tight enough to hurt, and letting you lie there while he started on getting rid of his boxers. "Wanna see that pretty face while you come undone on my cock. Isn't that what y'want too?"
You tried moving your head to nod, but it felt so so heavy that even the slightest movement felt like a chore, feeling grateful that Simon was a man able to move you around and dominate you without even breaking sweat, that all you needed to do was lie back and enjoy everything he gave you.
"Fuckin' hell. Not even fucked ya yet and you're 'lready gone?" He sneered, coming to hover over you so he could press wet kisses to your cheeks and neck, purposefully avoiding your lips. "Pretty girl gets her pussy played wiv and turns into a right proper slut, don' she?" He purred against your neck, his words making you shiver and squirm as your body instinctively tried to move away from the stimulus, only for him to pull you back towards him with grubby hands, a loud gasp leaving your lips as he pressed your crotches together, having expected the soft cotton of his boxers and not the hard, hot feeling of his cock flush against your dripping pussy.
"Oh- Oh my god, Simon, th-"
"Mm." He cut you off with a soft purr and a nip to your jugular, no doubt making sure that you'd wake up in purple marks the next morning as he did the same all over your neck. "'S me. All me, lovie. F'you."
You moaned at the implication, slowly starting to grind yourself against him as he made it his personal mission to cover your upper body in kisses, stopping at your clavicle and staring down at your bra, that was still to be taken off.
"Fuck, forgot all 'bout these." His hand came up to squeeze one of them softly, a small sound of pleasure leaving your lips at the added stimulation as you continued to rub your cunt against his hardened cock. "Pretty little things."
He started grinding his own hips against yours, watching with amazement at how quickly you reacted to his touch, your back arching enough for him to slip his hands behind and unclasping your bra suspiciously easy, pulling it off and throwing it behind him and landing god knows where, and leaving you finally completely bare beneath him.
"Look t'you." His warm hands immediately cupped your tits, thumb and pointer rubbing your nipples between them, pinching and pulling until they were hard, an amazed chuckle leaving his lips as he listened to your moans increase in sound, his grinding against you not ceasing either.
"Oh fuck- fuck fuck!" It was embarrassing, how quickly he had you whining and mewling beneath him, when you had found yourself struggling before to even feel something with men before him doing the same. It was just something about him, something about the way he sounded and touched, the precise movements against you, almost like he had been trained for your pleasure, to get you over the edge as many times as he could muster before even getting his dick wet.
Because the instant you felt his warm breath hit one of your perky breasts, you knew you were fucked, headed towards your second orgasm of the night. His warm mouth enveloped your hard nipple, pulling and tugging with his teeth and soothing the slight pain he left with his talented tongue, his grinding becoming quicker and rougher as he felt your thighs tremble around his waist, your eyes watering as you neared the release you oh so craved, gasping out loud as one of his hands came up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your flushed skin.
"You gunna cry, baby? S'okay, let it out. Let it out f'me." He growled as he let go of your now throbbing nipple, moving to give your other neglected breast the same attention, hand leaving your face to run down to your core and slowly run over your clit, a huge contrast to the rough movements of his cock against you and his warm mouth on your nipple, all the different stimulations and feelings enough to push you over the edge and let the tears that had been collecting in your waterline finally fall, gasping moans and screams leaving your lips as you soaked his cock, body trembling beneath his ministrations as he chuckled against your nipple, enjoying the way you were slowly falling apart and he hadn't even pushed into you yet.
He didn't stop for a few moments, waiting until the moment where you would inevitably start whining and pushing him off with weak arms to cease, leaning back up with a shit eating grin as he waited for you to come down from your high.
"Oi, look at me." He taps one of his fingers on your face, moving your gaze towards his, a small, patronising pout tugging at his lips as he watches the tears roll down your cheeks. "Poor thing. You all fucked out yet? D'you think y'could still take my cock? Or are you too dumb f'that right now?"
"Y-yes, yes, please, please, need it so bad, Si! So so bad!" You stuttered out between laboured breaths, hands struggling against their binding, itching to be let free and feel his cock in your hands, which you could see between you, almost as girthy as a coke can and with a few prominent veins leading up to his flushed red tip, that was leaking pre spend you would gladly pay money to clean up with your tongue. "O-oh fuck, Simon, please -"
"Sh, shh. Calm down, y'little crybaby." He chastised, leaning down to softly press kisses over the tears that had gathered on your flushed cheeks, chuckling at how desperate you looked under him. "I'll give you what you want. Gon' fuck you so well, yeah? You'll feel me f'weeks, lovie."
"Fuck, yes, please! Want your cock so badly, please!" You cried, legs immediately spreading for him as soon as his calloused hands landed on the pudge of your thighs, slightly digging his fingers into them as he took in the beautiful sight of your soaking wet pussy, having half the mind to shove his cock in you without a second thought. But no.
"Calm." He snapped, one of his hands dropping your thighs and slapping your face softly to get your attention. "Protection, baby. You got a condom?"
He frowned as you shook your head, gasping for breath as you pointed over to your nightstand, where he could faintly see the glint of a packet of tablets in the dark. "Pill. 'M on the pill, Si. Clean. I'm clean."
He couldn't help the smile that crept onto his lips at the thought of being able to cum inside, and how eager you were acting to get him to finally stick his cock inside, whines and whimpers pulling him from his thoughts as he stared down at you.
"You going to let me cum inside then, lovie?" He teased, pulling your other thigh back up so the underside of both of them were resting flush against his bare chest, twitching cock resting on your overstimulated core. "Don' think I'm gonna be able to pull out."
"Don't want you to, fuck! Please, Simon, please!! Inside, want you to cum inside!"
A shiver racked through his body at your words, carefully letting one of your legs go and making sure it would stay there, wrapping around it to grab his cock, slowly sliding the head around your puffy lips to collect the slick, wanting the intrusion to be as painless as possible.
"Fuck… Alright, baby, alright. Breathe f'me." He whispered, letting the head of his cock press against your hole, telling himself to go slow and calm down, but by the way you were pulsing and clenching around the head, almost like you were pulling him in, made it hard to stay sane. "God, slutty lil' cunt's just swallowing me in, huh? Want this cock that bad?"
Your hands shook against their restraint as he started to push himself into your sopping hole, wanting nothing more than to grab onto something for stability, but you didn't want to risk him getting annoyed at you for trying to.
"S'okay, almost there." He mumbled, lying straight through his teeth because with one look down to where he was connected to it would prove that he wasn't even halfway in, and it was already proving difficult for your hole to accommodate to his massive size.
"S'big, Si, you're so biiig." You whined, spreading your legs slightly and pushing your body onto him to help, shivering as you could feel him start throbbing inside of you, no doubt needing his own climax after having spent so much time focusing on you.
You could feel your eyes start to flutter close, mouth dropping open as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls flush against your ass and cock throbbing inside of you, taking a breather and letting you adjust to his size before he would start on his ruthless pace.
"Fuck, lovie, you droolin'?" He panted, a hand coming up to rest against your face and pull you out of your sex-drunk haze (Despite only getting his cock inside you now.), your eyes drowning in his crystal ones, hypnotised by his gaze as he used his thumb to rub away some of the drool that had dribbled down your chin. "Pretty girl finally gets some cock and turns into a drooling slut, huh?"
You let out a noise of complaint as your hands continued to struggle, the few coarse hairs that were peeking out from under his mask enough to make you want to bury your fingers in them, pull at his strands and dig your nails into his scalp as he rocked your world.
He seemed to to understand what you wanted, a chuckle leaving his swollen lips as he leaned over you, legs folding along with him and allowing him to reach a deeper point in your cunt you didn't know that existed, a loud moan escaping you as his calloused hands start undoing the belt, finally letting your wrists free and throwing the piece of leather away, his hands going back to holding onto one of your thighs and another gripping your waist.
"All yours, baby. All fuckin' yours."
He gave you a moment to react as he bottomed out, leaving you empty for a split moment before he slammed back in, cock head almost instantly hitting that sweet spot deep inside you, your hands immediately finding refuge on his shoulders, nails digging into the scarred skin as he repeated his ruthless thrusts, your body shaking beneath his as he pushed down onto your body, forcing you both into a mating press, your cunt tightening around his cock at the sight of his eyes rolling into the back of his head, tummy fluttering at the thought that he was enjoying this as much as you were.
"Fuck, so good, Simon! So fucking good!" Your hands trailed up to the nape of his neck and pulled at the few short hairs there, urging a growl out of him and causing him to slightly speed up, the head of his cock at this point abusing your g-spot, urging you to near your third orgasm. "Wan- Wanna cum, fuck, gonna cum, Simon!"
"Already, baby?" He spoke through bated breath, his stamina allowing him to keep a good and consistent pace, enough to please both of you and almost bring you to tears again. "That's okay, cum for me, lovie. Cum on my fucking cock, show me how much of a fucking whore you are f'me."
Your back arched, pressing your breasts to his sweaty chest, the extra stimulation from your nipples rubbing against his coarse skin finally pushing you over the edge, your cunt clamping down on his cock and making it near impossible for him to continue thrusting, but as the good soldier Simon was, he persisted, rutting into you with bared teeth and a clenched jaw, fucking you through your orgasm until your slick covered his balls and upper thighs.
"Good girl, good fucking girl." He rasped, hand moving from your waist up to your neck, giving an experimental squeeze and moaning as you clenched around him, a breathless chuckle leaving him. "Fuck, you're still clenchin' around me so nicely, love. Feel so fuckin' good, perfect lil' pussy all f'me..."
Simon was saying nonsense at this point, becoming near pussy drunk as his cock hammered into your puffy cunt, nearing his own peak after all the foreplay.
"Si- Simon-!" You keened, hands running under his mask to grasp at his hair properly, pulling at it to coax another guttural moan from him and leading him back down to engage in a messy kiss, teeth clanking together and spit being shared, feeling the desperation he was in as he continued to batter your pussy searching for his own orgasm. "Cum, please, please, cum inside!"
Simon's eyes rolled into the back of his head at your begging, eyelashes fluttering as his pace stuttered inside of you, cockhead pressing against the entrance to your cervix and finally going over the edge, his spend gushing into you and almost immediately filling you, his cock acting like a plug inside you.
"O-oh, fuuck…" He moaned out, voice going slightly high pitched as he relished in the euphoria of finishing inside of you, his nails leaving ten moon shaped indents on your hips, the pain nothing compared to the feeling of him finally fucking his spend into you, you'd have to worry about the inevitable bruises and marks in the morning before work. "Fuck, you're… fuck."
Simon lowered himself down, resting his sweaty balaclava-clad face on your shoulder as you both caught your breaths, his cock twitching inside of you as he rode the waves of his orgasm.
Your eyes were blown out, staring up at the ceiling as you were hit with a sudden wave of realisation, your brain finally catching up with your body and taking in everything that had just happened, especially the fact that you had allowed some masked man you'd met at a pub on a tinder date to ravage you like a starved animal.
"Oh my god." You said, voice wavering as you shivered beneath the mountain of a man, who's sweaty body was pressed flush to yours, his cock softening inside of you as you both started to sober up. "O-Oh my god, Simon."
He let out a moan against your skin, languidly thrusting one final time into you before slowly pulling out, peeling himself off of you and letting the cold air envelop your now-shivering body, the feeling of his warm cum dripping down your puffy cunt pulling out another broken whine from your lips.
"Look at that…" You tried moving away as Simon ran a finger down your spent hole, gathering his cum best he could before slowly shoving it back into you, clicking his tongue at your reaction before leaning down and pressing a final kiss to your clit, the loud cry that left you making him smile almost predatorily. "So, so pretty, baby."
Your eyelids fluttered closed as you felt the bed shift beneath Simon's moving weight, allowing you time to set your head on straight and think about the next words that were going to come out of your mouth (That weren't strangled moans of the blond's name and jumbled cries about how good he felt.) while he moved around, no doubt getting his discarded clothes so he could slip away into the night.
"...leavin'?" You finally mustered out, letting your head fall to a side so you could watch him pick up his boxers and slip them on, his balaclava fixed into place like it had been when you met him, leaving you to stare into his mysterious blue eyes, the only gateway into the man who had just finished ravishing you.
"..." He turned to look at you over his shoulder, eyes trailing over your shivering frame as he fought internally over your words.
Ghost knew that it would be dangerous to stay, to indulge in your touch and show himself to you in one of his most vulnerable states. He didn't know you outside of the few hours he had spent with you, and even with that, it wasn't enough for Ghost to let his guard down around you.
Simon wanted to stay, he wanted to climb back into bed and let you curl into his side, let his warm hands run up and down your warm skin like he had done while pleasuring you, listen to your snores and even breathing. And despite probably not being able to fall asleep himself, Simon knew that it would be one of the few tranquil nights of his life.
So despite Ghost's alarming protests ringing in his head, Simon slowly made his way into the empty spot of your bed next to you, the covers soft and cool against his heated skin, soothing the raging fire that seemed to boil inside of him at the mere sight of you, his large arms wrapping around you and pulling you towards his side of the bed.
As soon as your bare body made contact with his, you melted like ice cream on a hot day, curling into his side and allowing him to wrap his tattooed arm around you, calloused hands running up and down your sides, taking his sweet time memorising every curve and dip of your body as you rested your head onto his chest, ear pressed right above his rapidly beating heart.
Not one word was exchanged between you both the whole time you lied together, his fingers tracing every little nook and cranny of your skin he could find, stopping every once in a while to rub on a tense muscle or over a scar, the soft ministrations swiftly lulling you to sleep.
The hand that you had splayed on his chest was mimicking his movements, fingers running over the blond hair that adorned his chest, playing with the small cross that dangled from the small chain necklace around his neck. Every time his hand would come up to rub at your shoulders, you caught a peak at the many tattoos that sleeved his arm, and as much as you wanted to turn around and commit all of them to memory, every time you tried to move, he'd press you closer, as if he knew that if he did allow you to, you'd only put off sleeping for longer.
As your eyelids started drooping, you felt his other hand come up to rest over your smaller one, toughened fingers intertwining with your own softer ones, a tired smile forming at your lips before finally clocking out, his heartbeat a firm rhythm that pulled you further and further into the soft grasp of Hypnos.
As expected, Simon didn't sleep a wink.
He had tried to close his eyes and enjoy the warmth you radiated, trying his best to let your soft snores and murmurs lull him to sleep, but it was impossible.
Despite not having slept for more than two days, he was unable to fall asleep, on edge after the catastrophe that was his last mission.
That was one of the reasons he had decided to step out of his comfort zone and allow himself a night of indulgence with you, a night of letting himself go and take out all his anger on you, but he had been impuissant to hurt you or even come close to actually wound you, instead taking it as slow as he knew how to and muttering soft praises and sweet nicknames into your ear along with the degradation that he'd mixed in.
And even after tiring himself out, he still couldn't let himself fully relax.
But as he turned his head to look down at your sleeping face, he thought that maybe this wasn't so bad. He felt… at ease, for the first time in a while. No strident alarms to wake him up at the crack of dawn, no ringing in his ears as a grenade went off near him, no desperately patching up a wound and drenching his hands in blood, no screams and pleas of mercy reverberating around his head as he disposed of the enemy.
None of that. It was just you. With your body curled into his side and your soft skin beneath a killer's hands.
Which is why he wished he could stay there forever. Lock the door and have you in his arms for the rest of his life, without the paranoia and the horrors that followed him everywhere he went, only focus on you and how mushy you made him feel with only a few hours of knowing him.
Which is why he wished he could have just fallen asleep and ignored the vibrations that came from beneath his discarded clothes, that he didn't leave your side and pick up the phone, that he hadn't followed orders like he always did and hadn't left you alone.
He carefully tucked you in, making his side of the bed before hesitantly brushing his scarred knuckles against your flushed cheeks, an alternative to the kiss he oh-so wanted to press down onto you until you woke up, until you asked him to stay, until he caved in and left the 141 to fend for themselves.
But he didn't.
He closed the door to your bedroom, slipped his phone and keys back into his pockets and headed towards the front door, ready to leave you behind and go back to being Ghost.
But as his hand reached for the doorknob, his eyes caught onto a stack of fluorescent yellow sticky notes on the kitchen counter, and in a stroke of not so genius, he grabbed the nearest pen and scribbled down his number onto the piece of paper, signing it with a simple "S .", hoping that you'd deduce it was from him, and not from some random person whose name started with the letter S that had broken into your apartment just to give you their number.
He stuck it a bit too aggressively to the almost bare fridge, making sure it was in a visible spot that you wouldn't be able to miss before finally stepping out of your flat, adjusting his mask in the elevator's mirror and going back to the cold hearted killer his fellow soldiers knew as Ghost.
He'd expected it to be a short mission.
One that they'd be able to finish within two weeks at best so he could go back to his cramped flat in Manchester and hopefully get back to you.
He'd spent almost every day of the first week of his departure wondering if you'd found the note, if when he'd retrieve his phone back from his locker back at base, he'd find a few messages from an unknown number he hoped was yours, asking him how he was, asking him to meet up again, wondering if he was okay…
That's what mostly kept him going for the first few days.
Until it all went haywire.
The mission escalated quickly into a mess of soldiers and betrayals, flying from place to place and taking more lives with his bare hands than he had ever before.
Blood soaked his hands in a way it never had, the toll of deaths on his name increasing with every passing day, week, month, year.
When the mission that had started off as something simple, something Ghost couldn't even remember, ended after a year, the 141 couldn't be more relieved. And exhausted.
They'd fought for many months straight, barely finding places to get a wink of sleep, and sometimes even running out of food while they camped out in one of the dingy safe houses of whatever city they were currently stranded in.
But it was finally over. Their target had been disposed of and any enemy that remained had either been eliminated or had scurried off.
As the chopper brought them back to base, none of them said a word, even Johnny refrained from making any jokes, knowing that it would only piss off both of his superiors and maybe get a tired chuckle out of Gaz.
Price uttered a "Good job." to all of them before patting them on the shoulder and going to his office, no doubt ready to go back home and have the sleep of his life.
The two sergeants withheld from talking too much to their lieutenant, murmuring a goodbye to him before going their own way, Ghost not even bothering to answer, too mentally and physically exhausted to even open his mouth to speak.
The first thing he did once he reached his locker was throw the goddamn mask off, letting the plastic skull clatter against the tiles as he rummaged through his belongings, wanting nothing more than to get into some clean clothes and go back home, where he would drink away the horrors that would no doubt follow him and probably pass out watching reruns of football games he had missed.
The clothes he had worn the day before the mission were tighter, accentuating the change in his physique after putting his muscles to work for a whole year, the seams of his trousers digging uncomfortably into his legs, his pockets full of random junk he had left in there.
He fished for whatever was currently pressing against his backside, pulling out his small phone from the pocket, frowning down at the gadget, which was no doubt out of battery after being left for so long.
Simon was pleasantly surprised when the screen brightened, showing his black lock screen and the time, the battery hanging onto dear life with a 1%. He moved to grab his charger, his eyes still trained on the incoming notifications that would soon flood his home screen, not really expecting much aside from the emails entailing rubbish deals or the occasional spam from a porn site he'd signed up to as a teen and hadn't been able to delete.
Instead, he was bombarded with over a thousand notifications at once, all from the same unknown number, the messages going too quickly for his tired eyes, focusing on the random words he was able to take from the rapidly passing texts.
Answer.
Ignoring.
Asshole.
Appointment.
Doctor.
Pub.
Baby.
Pregnancy.
His mind blocked itself off as he processed the last word, trying to make sense of all the confusing messages that had been sent to his phone.
Had it been by accident? Was he the recipient of some prank? Had he unknowingly given out his number to someo-
You.
Simon's throat went dry as the realisation dawned on him. Without sparing another second, he unlocked his phone, clicking onto the notifications and scrolling down as fast he could while still intaking information, afraid that his phone would die out at any point in time and render him utterly confused and terrified.
His body went on autopilot the more he read, brain fuzzy as if he had just drank a whole bottle of hard-hitting liquor, his eyes fixed on the bright screen of his phone in terror.
He was in shock. His mind wasn't in the right state to process any of this, he wasn't able to properly begin to fathom the meaning behind your words, as simple as they were.
— I'm pregnant.
— I'm fucking pregnant, Simon.
— I don't know how it happened, the chances of the pill failing are so fucking low, and of course it happened to us.
— Please pick up.
— I know you're getting the messages.
— The doctor told me it's too dangerous to perform the abortion.
— I have to keep it or risk my life.
— I need you to answer, Simon. Please, I just need to know that you're there.
— I'm scared.
— You're such an asshole, you know that, right?! Fucking gave me your number only to disappear? Left me pregnant with your bloody kid!? And you can't even bother to pick up the goddamn phone.
— Fuck you.
— …
— It's a boy. Thought you'd want to know.
— My due date is in a month. Please… call me, if you're even reading these. I don't want to be alone.
The phone flashed the low power message in hopes that Simon would take mercy on it and finally plug it in, but Simon paid it no mind, clear eyes staring down at the picture you'd attached during one of the first months of your pregnancy.
The blurry picture of an ecography staring back at him disproved any doubts that might have formed in his mind, your full name displayed at the bottom along with the date it was taken, solidifying the fact even more.
It was real. This was real. You'd been carrying his son for 9 months, sending him frantic and terrified messages all throughout the three trimesters in hopes that he'd answer, all the while he had forgotten all about you in the midst of his mission, while you probably didn't spend a single day of that year not thinking about him.
His phone went dark once it finally had enough, leaving him standing there with a dry throat and shaky hands.
It was rare for Ghost to feel fear, but not for Simon. His throat would contract with every breath, his nose would sting as tears threatened to form on his waterline, his hands would get shaky until he balled them up and threw a punch into whatever item was closest.
This time wasn't any different. He punched his locker door, denting the metal effortlessly as he tried to wash away the fear and guilt creeping up to him with the pain that bloomed at his knuckles, that ran up his arms like electric shocks until they went numb.
He was an asshole.
Simon knew that it wasn't his fault that the mission had been extended for way too long, but he kept thinking back to the moment he'd placed his number on your fridge, wondering what would have happened if he'd done the smart thing and added that he'd be unavailable for a while, but that he'd get back to you. Maybe you would have been less scared while going through the pregnancy, comforted by the thought that he hadn't been ignoring you, but he knew that even then, you would have gone through it alone and terrified.
"I'm an asshole."
He rested his head against the dented locker, the cool metal soothing the headache that had quickly formed after all the conflicting feelings that had rushed through him in the matter of a minute.
All he had wanted was to go back home and rest, but fuck him if he was going to be able to even close his eyes after learning he was a father.
He packed everything up as quickly as he could, not bothering to say goodbye or join the other three for a drink at a pub, heading to his car so he could get the fuck out of London and back to Manchester, where he prayed you still lived, in that tiny flat near that dingy pub where he had first laid eyes on you in.
As his gloved hands gripped the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white, a terrifying thought struck him.
Who's to say you had even kept the baby?
Who's to say you couldn't bear to look at the baby, that you'd given him away to a way more functional family?
The thought inflicted fear in him, a type of fear he didn't know if he should be feeling or not, confused with all the unpleasant emotions swirling inside of him.
"God, fuck!" He slammed his hands onto the steering wheel, the roar he had let out no doubt scaring any civilian that had been walking near his car at the time, but he couldn't care less.
All that was important now was getting back to you, to what he hoped was still the mother of his son.
Happy giggles and gurgles filled the living room, your tiny baby outstretching his arms out as you cycled his legs slowly, making silly faces down at him to keep him distracted.
Your doctor had recommended small exercises like these, some that would help develop his future motor skills, but you'd found that Tommy was a curious baby, one that couldn't stay still for longer than five minutes before he was whining and huffing in a futile attempt to get your attention and hopefully release him from his tiny prison; and so, in order to keep him focused, you resorted to having leisured conversations with him, your small son hanging onto your every word with wide blue eyes and a gaping mouth, as if he could understand your frustrations with the man who had blocked your car off and the girl from the bakery that had gotten your order wrong, or making silly faces at him to hear him giggle with glee.
You placed his small feet down and went back to your resting face, his eyes instantly going from your face to the closest toy, small chubby arm reaching out to grab it, your fingers running over his tummy and getting out a few giggles out of him before he finally grasped the toy, pressing it into his side.
As he distracted himself, you let yourself sit down properly, back hitting the edge of the sofa as you watched your son roll around on the blanket you'd laid down, letting yourself look up at the TV for a moment to have a small break, the news reporter standing in front of Big Ben ranting about some resolved political dispute or something.
Your eyes trailed back down to your son, who was wriggling around with a new toy in his grasp, cooing and drooling as he stared up at the ceiling, blue eyes fixed on one of the many cracks in the ceiling.
You winced at the not so friendly reminder of the state your flat was in. Going through a pregnancy on your own without any help and barely any money to take care of yourself left your home in a condition you were not proud of. You'd tried your best to clean and make the nursery as cosy as possible, but at the end of your third trimester you could barely lean down to pick up the hoover. Once you had been allowed back home, you'd cleaned up, but you couldn't really do much to fix the poor way your building had been constructed.
A sigh left your lips, leaning down to rest your head against your knees with closed eyes, giving yourself a few moments of sacred rest, something you seldom got anymore those days.
Sometimes, you thought as you wrapped your arms around your legs, you wished you weren't alone. As much hate you had harboured for your son's father across the year, you couldn't help the longing that still filled you every time you thought about him, wondering if you'd ever see him again, if he'd ever hold his son in his arms.
Frustrated tears filled the corners of your eyes, wiping them away with your sleeves before turning your attention back to your son, who was now squirming in his spot making grabby hands at you.
"I've got you, duck, don't worry." You cooed, picking him up and pressing a few kisses to his chubby cheeks, cradling him to your chest as you got up from the floor, careful to not drop him or bump him into anything.
As you took him back to his room, routinely changing his diaper and clothes, you thought back to the small breakdown you almost had had a few minutes ago, letting out an exhausted sigh. There was no use in imagining a future where Simon fit in, you'd given him enough time to answer, to show any signs of life at all. You were alone.
You were on the verge of tears as you placed Tommy in his tiny crib, handing him the small duck plushie your grandma had knitted a few months back when she had come to visit, watching him cling onto it in his sleep for a few moments, his soft breaths and coos tranquillising the waves of anxiety threatening to drown you.
"Good night, Tom." You whispered, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek before flicking on the night light, carefully closing the door and resting your body against it, a shaky sigh leaving your chapped lips.
God, you were pathetic. Hung up over a man who you'd only known for a few hours, who'd left you with a baby (unknowingly or not, didn't matter), who still haunted your dreams every time you tried to get some rest. Why couldn't he have just picked up the phone? Why had he just given you his fucking number if he wasn't bothering on answering? Why had he gotten into your head so easily, with his sweet nicknames and soft kisses? Why couldn't you just fucking mov-
Your whole body jumped as the shrill doorbell rang, the sound reverberating around the flat and no doubt reaching Tommy's sensitive ears.
"God, yeah, I hear it!" You cried out as the sound didn't stop, starting to get worried that it would wake your baby up and then you'd have to deal with putting him to sleep all over again. "Fuck! I know, I'm coming!"
You looked through the peephole, eyebrows furrowing as you gazed upon a man's tacky army jacket instead of the normal face, so either this guy was incredibly fucking tall or he was standing on a stool.
Knowing that the area you lived in wasn't the safest, you unlocked the door but kept the chain latch on, a gap big enough so you could see the guy outside but not big enough for him to attack you.
"What?" You snapped, a bit harsher than how you'd normally answer the door, but this guy didn't really deserve any respect after how he'd basically abused your doorbell to the point of the sound still ringing in your ears. "What do you-"
Your gaze had been fixed onto his chest, scanning the army jacket you had spied through the peephole, cringing internally at the Union Jack plastered on his left bicep, hoping to God that he wasn't some type of Tory propagandist going door to door. But as your eyes trailed up to meet his, your mouth went dry.
Crystal blue eyes framed by pretty blonde eyelashes (identical to the blue eyes your son had been staring up at you with for the past three months), contrasting with the black face paint that was smeared around his eyes, the rest of his face obscured by that damn skull balaclava that haunted you.
It was him. It was fucking him.
"Simon." You said his name breathlessly, not missing the way his body stiffened at your shaky tone.
"Yeah. It's me."
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x fem reader#ghost x female reader#cod mwii#call of duty#ghost x you#ghost fanfiction#ghost x fem!reader#ghost fic#cod mwii x reader#ghost smut#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#cw pregnancy#— ménage
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your order ma’am || g!p yujin x f!reader
notes: apparently my brain works at ungodly hours like its 8am rn??? ANYWAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY @pupyuj <33 well happy belated birthday, but oh well
cw: g!p yujin, switch!reader, switch!yujin, praise, crack only bc i laughed a few times while writing, WEED USAGE!!, reader and yujin get high
wc: 1.5k
in the middle of your living room, smoke filled the air as you took another puff from your almost burnt out spliff. your eyes trained on the tv that had a random episode of spongebob on the screen. probably one of the random old seasons, the funnier ones obviously. the moonlight cascaded through your window illuminating the side of your face, blunt as well.
another smoke session today again. and for what? the nth time this week. to be fair it was a stressful month and no one was there to comfort you, except for the frequent delivery guys who’d deliver your food to you whenever you felt the need to snack on something. they wouldn’t comfort you, rather, you’d like to believe they’re comforting you with their presence. presence being them knocking on your door and leaving after 10 seconds.
every delivery was the same, the old ‘shove the bag into your face, ask if it’s you and then leave’.
tonight was different though. you ordered from the same place a good 30 minutes ago thinking your food would arrive on time, you’d gotten accustomed to their arrival times so you could just guess without having to look at your phone. yet the delivery guy never came.
“man.. where the fuck is my food at?” rolling up another blunt since your last one wasn’t strong enough. you sigh and stare directly at your tv once more. heh… funny spongebob episode. your lips met the tip of your freshly rolled blunt, lighting up the end and inhaling.
knock knock knock
the knock didn’t register in your head until you heard the person bang on your door three more times, although they seemed like very hesitant bangs, with an odd spacing between the second and the last one.
“oh fuck” immediately dropping the blunt upon the last knock, which somehow made you panic. why in hell did you think it was the police???
right, because the police were definitely at your house and not the delivery guy with a bag of food waiting for you.
i mean, you are high so…. but anyway, it was raining and you suddenly regained the knowledge that you ordered food. you reluctantly opened the door, with the thought of the police at the back of your mind, to find a pretty handsome looking woman outside your door.
“uh… why are you here” why the fuck did you say that? the taller woman scrunched her nose a little, maybe because you reeked of weed, looked around awkwardly and spoke to you without initiating eye contact.
“you called and i… came to your address to give you the pizza you ordered”
“how’d you know i lived here?” oh so now you’re interrogating the poor girl.
“wha- that’s not… anyway here’s your pizza ma’am” shoving the pizza box in front of your face. classic.
“ohhh shit pizza, okay nice. how much?” words slurring out of your mouth. your hands reached for your purse that you conveniently had in your pocket.
“it’ll be $18” looking around the place as if she had no time to stand around.
oh what the fuck.
where’s your cash gone….?
“don’t be alarmed… but i have no cash” you say with a smile, your eyes half lidded as you chuckle even though the opposing girl was nowhere near impressed. the situation was quite ridiculous to you, but you felt a tinge of regret after saying what you had said.
from what you could tell, it was her first time on the job. you had never seen her come round to your house on a random thursday night, no wonder why she looked so nervous “oh um, sorry i don’t have any cash i could….”
yeah, you’re high out of your mind right now. no coherent thoughts whatsoever, but she’s pretty, and you’re not thinking straight “i mean… i could pay another way. you wouldn’t mind would you?”
you beckoned her inside of your home, taking the pizza box and placing it beside your ashtray on the coffee table “how can you pay me back if you don’t have any cash? are you gonna paypal me or something”
“are you dense by any chance”
“n-no… i’m just confused. wait, why are you taking your clothes off?” you picked back up the disregarded spliff after you took your shirt off, inhaling and blowing the smoke in the opposite direction.
“paying you the other way, duh. like in those stupid porn videos where the delivery guy does whatever they want to the person because they didn’t have any cash on them… you don’t like the idea?”
“that seems really unrealistic and stupid, but um i’m not… uh how do i word this? i don’t m-mind” unintentionally stuttering, bewildered by the situation because honestly what the fuck is going on.
“come here…” you squint your eyes at her name tag “ahn yujin- your name has a nice ring to it” she sat on your sofa, shaking from what could be adrenaline or just anxiety. but considering you accidentally hot boxed her in your small living room, it’s most likely adrenaline.
you slid yourself in between her two thighs, smirking as you unzipped her jeans. you eagerly stripped her from her jeans, following her boxers? it’s 2023 you’re not gonna judge someone for wearing boxers, but-
oh?
yujin’s cock sprung up, which genuinely caught you off guard, moving back a little because of how shocked you were by the sudden reveal. my god, she was huge. bigger than the average man.
considering you were still heavily intoxicated, you didn’t believe it was real at first. you stared at it for a while thinking that maybe you were just- crazy? but no, it was very much real and very much hard.
“d-don’t look” muttering under her breath. yujin covered her face out of embarrassment “i swear it’s not what it looks like- mh”
“you got turned on by me didn’t you” giggling after kissing the tip of her cock “i bet you were waiting for this exact situation to happen, didn’t you?” you say before taking her whole length, the tip hitting the back of your throat with ease.
“f..fuck, it’s- mmmngh” she couldn’t do much, the air was thick with clouds of smoke due to the lack of airflow in your room. it was making her head hazy, unable to think coherently. yujin’s moans were soft and low, her hands roamed around and grabbed your pillow, her hips moved at the pace of your head going up and down, which in fact made you groan in approval.
in the meantime, your hand reached down to tend to your own wetness, caressing your folds as you continued to suck her cock.
without thinking, yujin lifted herself off the sofa. the marijuana made her move without thinking, grabbing you and tossing you onto the cushions “you hinted that i could do whatever, right?” you found yourself shocked, what made her suddenly so confi- the weed you dumbass.
“don’t think you're slick, i saw you playing with yourself” moving aside your panties while licking her lips, yujin shuffling in between your thighs “i think you should come around my cock instead” how, and when, was she this vulgar? she teased your hole before slowly pushing herself into you, her girthy cock filling you up in no time. you both moaned in unison, your fists balling the fabric of yujin’s shirt. it felt… it felt way too big for your tight pussy.
“y-yujin.. you’re too big, it kinda hurts-“ she gave you no time to rest, rocking her hips back and forth as soon as she got comfortable inside of you.
at first she was going slow and steady, but gradually she increased her speed. within minutes of slowly pumping her cock in and out, she was mercilessly ramming into your cunt seconds later. the pain at first was unbearable, she was just that big, but the faster she fucked you the more pleasure you felt. every part of her cock hit every spot you couldn’t find yourself, and god it felt way too good.
“so- so good… so tight.. mmghn fuck, your pussy feels amazing” embarrassingly enough, you moaned so loud at the comment. her praise alone was so comforting and so erotic that you couldn’t help but squeeze down on her length, she noticed how you reacted to her sweet words, wanting more of your reactions “you’re so pretty… under me. all fucked out, such a good girl”
her comment sent you over the edge, rolling your eyes back as your back slowly arches off the sofa. almost inaudible as you bite your lip to mute your own moans. yujin followed shortly after, giving one final thrust into you before stilling her hips and letting her warm cum shoot into you.
“that… was… so good” you mutter between breaths. you were completely spent, your legs were feeling like jelly but somehow yujin was still hard.
“still not enough. you still need to repay me more”
yeah no, you still needed to pay for service fees and shit. thankfully it was her last delivery for tonight.
#wintersera#ive smut#g!p ive#g!p yujin#ahn yujin smut#ive x fem reader smut#ive x reader smut#ahn yujin x reader smut#yujin x reader smut#girl group smut#kpop smut
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Meet The Parents | kmg x f!reader
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~5.2k
Summary: Mingyu is meeting your parents today, and it absolutely must go well. So why are you teasing him like this?
For May 💖 happy early birthday i love and adore you
Warnings: meeting the parents, wine and food mention, brief talk of the future and kids, suggestive thoughts, mingyu is horny and in love, fingering, marking, car sex, semi public sex, creampie
AN: not everyone has two parents that are still together (i know i don’t) but for the purpose of this story, reader does
Mingyu’s left hand tightens on the steering wheel, the fingers of his right tensing on your thigh, as he navigates the streets of the neighborhood you grew up in. You’ve been pointing things out to him - the tree you broke your ankle climbing in the sixth grade, the house your childhood best friend lived in, the cul de sac that had the best halloween candy - and he wishes he was less nervous so he could fully enjoy all these little memories with you.
But how could he not be nervous? He’s had two hours to think about this and now he’s minutes away from meeting the people who made you, and he loves you, and he has to make a good first impression! Usually, parents love him because of his winning smile and polite manners, but yours may feel differently. It doesn’t help that you’re wearing that skirt, the one that sits all pretty on your luscious thighs, the one that makes you look like a princess, the one that he fucked you in just last week.
Mingyu doesn’t want his mind to go there, but as soon as the thought pops into his head, he’s picturing the way he bent you over the kitchen table and flipped the skirt up only to find you bare, and how he dropped to his knees and made you cum on his tongue and fingers before finally giving you his cock. He remembers how you felt wrapped around him, how you begged and pleaded for him to cum inside of you, how you cried when fucked his seed back in with his fingers after it started to drip out of your perfect little pussy.
Fuck, he’s getting hard, and according to you, your house is only three streets away. He wills his mind to return to the safe zone, the zone that doesn’t make him want to pull over and fuck you in the backseat in broad daylight, but the warmth and softness of your thigh under his hand just reminds him how warm and soft you are all over. There’s not much time left, and the only thing he can think to do is remove his hand from your thigh and attempt to think about terrible, horrible, awful things.
Your hair in the shower drain, that one episode of My Strange Addiction, the time he lost so bad in Overwatch that he cried, and he’s back.
Just in time too, as he takes a right and rolls to a slow stop in front of your parent’s house. He pulls in a deep breath, shifts to park, and turns the car off before looking at you. You’re already staring with a sweet smile on your face and he can feel his cheeks heat, feel his heart start to race, feel his shoulders bunch up by his ears.
Even after six months together, having your full attention on him makes him feel bashful for some reason. Maybe it’s because you’re his dream girl, maybe it’s because he knows just how lucky he is to be with you, maybe it’s because he feels like you can see straight into his big, fat, full-of-love-for-you heart. Maybe it’s all three, but he can’t complain when the very fact that he gets shy around you is evidence he gets to be around you.
He feels your hand squeeze his arm, shakes himself out of the stupor he falls into when he looks at you for too long, and nods when you ask him if he’s ready to get out of the car. He’s not, but he doesn’t think he ever will be so now’s as good a time as any.
He also doesn’t want to keep your parents waiting, knowing that punctuality is a hallmark of a good, respectable boyfriend, as is running around his sedan at a near comical speed so he can open your door before you do. Your eyes sparkle as you look up at him from your seat in his car and he tries to pretend the hand he offers you isn’t shaking, but assumes he’s not successful as your expression softens into something fond.
“They’ll love you, Mingyu,” you promise him, giving his hand a squeeze to emphasize your point as you climb out and stand. Your free hand rises to fix his hair, and suddenly that’s something else he’s nervous about. He got his hair cut just for this, just to meet your parents, and he feels a bit exposed without the long waves covering his ears and neck. He does like how you fuss over him though, and it’s nice to be able to fuck your brains out without his hair getting in his eyes and obscuring his view of you, so there are two pros to the one con.
“Alright, you look so handsome, and you’re such a good boyfriend, and you’ll impress the shit out of them!” You quietly hype him up before asking, “Wanna go inside?”
He takes in a trembling breath, nods, and looks to your front door only to find it open, with your parents standing just outside the threshold. His ears flame at the knowledge that they’d witnessed this little moment between him and their daughter, but at least he didn’t try to cop one last feel in front of them too.
They wave, and he smiles and waves back, and then you and him are walking up the driveway hand in hand. There’s no time to back out now, not that he wants to, and all he can do is hope and pray and wish and manifest that this goes well, because it has to.
Dinner goes smoothly enough, Mingyu thinks.
Your parents worked together to make all the food, and Mingyu even recognizes some of the dishes as things you’ve made for him before. He figured you learned how to cook while you were growing up because you’re such a natural in the kitchen, and this is confirmation. It’s also a glimpse into the future he wants to have with you, one where you make things together and share them with people you love.
Your dad doesn’t grill him like he expects, instead drawing him into a conversation about the merits of college basketball, which gives him an opportunity to share the experience of being on his university’s team. It lights your dad up, the fact that Mingyu played in college, and he spends half of dinner asking about Mingyu’s favorite teams.
Your mom asks a lot of questions about his family: how his mom is, what his parents do for work, if he has any siblings, if he wants kids and if he does, how many. The last question throws him for a bit of a loop, but he recovers soon enough, answering, “I do, but how many isn’t just my decision.”
That seems to be the correct response, her face relaxing into a soft smile before she looks at you and winks. He doesn’t know what the wink means but assumes it’s something good, and the tight feeling in his chest starts to abate.
Once they’ve inquired about everything they want to know, the conversation tilts to you. Your parents haven’t seen you in a couple months - the two hour drive is hard to incorporate into your schedule - and though you talk regularly, there’s still catching up to do. You tell them how it’s going at your new job, how your coworkers are kind but nosy, and how your boss is demanding and strict. They hear about the dog you fell in love with while you were volunteering at the shelter, and about how your circle of friends is doing, and about how Rachel just keeps getting back together with Sean no matter how much you tell her he won’t change.
Mingyu listens attentively, practically hanging on your every word as if he hasn’t heard all of this before, and it’s only when you stand to get another bottle of wine that he remembers what you’re wearing.
The sight of your thighs sends him spiraling, your skirt brushing over them like he wishes his hands could, and he clenches the silverware in his fists, praying that his sudden want isn’t obvious. He averts his eyes when you return, stares down at his nearly empty plate as if it holds all the secrets to the universe, and looks up only when you place a hand on his shoulder and ask if he wants another glass.
He doesn’t trust his voice, doesn’t think his answer won’t come out hoarse with the way his throat has tightened with lust, so he just shakes his head. More wine will only make it worse, the taste of the red on his tongue already reminding him of the last time you got wine drunk together. You made it through two bottles before he pulled you into his lap, pushed his thigh between your legs, and helped you grind back and forth until you soaked his sweats.
Groaning in his mind, he tugs at the legs of his jeans, trying to give himself more room as blood rushes down into his cock. It doesn’t help that you lean over the table to pour wine into your parents’ glasses, giving him a peek at the panties you’ve got on today. Just by the little bit of color and fabric he sees, he knows they’re his favorite pair, and suddenly he’s all too aware that you did this on purpose.
Wore his favorite skirt and his favorite panties and bent over just a bit more than you needed to, just so he could see. You’re so evil but so fucking hot, and, swallowing the smirk, Mingyu decides to come up with a little plan of his own.
When you sit back down, he splays a big hand over your thigh, his touch low enough to seem innocent but high enough to tease you. Through the rest of the meal, he dotes on you. Runs his thumb along your soft skin, praises your brilliant mind and work ethic, presses a kiss to your cheek when your parents aren’t looking. He knows you love his attention, love when he shows how obsessed he is with you, but he also knows you know his increased affections usually lead to one of two things.
Him dragging you to bed to cuddle you until you fall asleep, or him dragging you to bed and fucking you into the mattress.
Neither of those things are possible here, but he’s hoping he can rile you up enough that you get a taste of your own medicine.
“Honey, why don’t you give Mingyu a tour while your father and I clear the table?” Your mom suggests, making you jump. You must have been zoning out, and he can only hope you were thinking about what he’s been thinking about. If not, he’ll just have to accept that he’s the horny one in this relationship. It’s a cross he’s willing to bear, especially if it means you always know how much he wants you.
Your thigh flexes under his palm and he gives you a squeeze, his fingers digging in a bit too much to pass as a show of affection rather than a sign of want.
“Yeah, mom, that sounds good.”
You stand quickly, your chair scratching on the hardwood, and his hand falls to his own lap as he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated and you look slightly frazzled, but you compose yourself quickly and hold your hand out, waiting for him to take it before pulling him up from his chair and tugging him from the dining room. He follows at a sedate pace, his long legs allowing him to easily keep up with you as you lead him to the stairs.
He loses the upper hand here, his eyes instantly drawn to the way your ass moves under your skirt with each step climbed. Stairs have always been a treacherous place for him due to his clumsiness, but he never knew he’d be in danger like this. By the time you make it to the top, he’s half hard and nearly panting, and it takes everything in him not to push you up against the wall and drop to his knees.
The look you give him when you turn around tells him you know, and the smirk that stretches your lips tells him he’s in for even more trouble. You back up to a door, one covered in drawings and stickers, and place your hand on the knob, slowly turning it and backing into the room.
“This was my bedroom, can you tell?” You ask innocently, your eyes slowly traversing the posters and stuffed animals you’d left behind. He takes one stilted step, then another, crossing the threshold and feeling like he’s entering the lion’s den, except this den has pink walls and a princess bed and this lion has his heart.
You sit on the bed, the mattress bouncing with your weight, and smooth your skirt out over your plush thighs. He can hear your parents puttering about in the kitchen, hear the buzz of their easy conversation, hear the warning bells in his mind telling him not to come any closer to you. But he’s never been good at listening to those warnings, so he walks further into the room, his eyes stuck on you rather than the decor he should be taking in.
You pat the spot next to you, your face open and patient as you wait for him to join you. It feels like a mistake, sinking down onto the covers beside you, but it’s too late to change his mind now. He’ll just have to hope you don’t try anything because his restraint is already razor thin and stretched far past capacity.
“Are you thinking about it yet?” You whisper, your dulcet voice sounding like a devil on his shoulder.
“Thinking about what?” He responds, though he dreads knowing the answer.
“Fucking me in this bed.”
You sound nonchalant, unbothered, but he can see the desire in your eyes, knows you’re just as hot for him as he is for you. He also knows you’re teasing yourself as well as him, because you’re both fully aware there’s no way he’s fucking you in your parents’ house.
Not while they’re home, at least.
“Baby, please,” he begs in a hushed voice. “I’m trying to make a good impression.”
“You already have, Gyu. They love you, just like I said they would,” you drop the act just long enough to reassure him, sensing the anxiety in his words and kindly attempting to set him at ease. It doesn’t really work, his nerves are too fried and his body's too wired, both from meeting your parents and from having to endure the war you’ve decided to wage on him.
He’s thankful you’ve seemingly decided to back off, his heart slowly returning to a normal pace and his lungs able to fill with air again. Until you open your mouth and say something else.
“How about you fuck me on the way home?”
Shit. Now he’s thinking about you, spread out over the hood of his car, crying as he thrusts into you over and over and over. You, halfway in the backseat as he takes you from behind. You, riding him in the driver’s seat until he fills you up. You, you, you. Always you.
He shakes his head, trying to dislodge the dirty thoughts that keep invading his mind, but how is he supposed to do that when you’re staring at him like you are and saying the things you’re saying?
Even worse is the fact that he knows that’s exactly what he’ll do, fuck you on the way home. Whether it’s in the car or in the nicest motel he can find for you, he’s going to be balls deep inside of you just like you want.
You must sense his resolve crumbling because you shift closer, set a hand on his thigh, and lean in, pressing your lips to the hinge of his jaw and lightly sucking. He squeezes his eyes closed, clenches his teeth, and steels himself to do something he’s never done before - deny you.
“If you don’t stop, I’m not fucking you today at all.”
He’s bluffing but he sounds serious enough for you to believe him, your mouth detaching from his neck on a gasp as you process his words. He stares straight ahead, knowing that if you look into his eyes you’ll see the lie in them, see that there’s no way he could stand to go without you, especially after you’ve been teasing him like this.
“So you will if I do stop?” You question in a hushed voice, almost sounding like you’re bargaining.
“That’s the deal,” he confirms with a nod, feeling your eyes on him and hoping you aren’t seeing right through him like you usually can.
“Alright, Gyu, I’ll be good.”
He pushes out a sigh, knowing you chose those words on purpose. They’re the ones you say when he’s feeling more dominant than desperate, when he wants to tell you what to do and watch you do it, when giving isn’t enough and he needs to take instead. But he also knows that you always mean it, always want to be good for him if that’s what he wants from you, even if you did take this as one last opportunity to tease him.
You’re true to your word, your touches innocent and your devil horns put away as he chats with you and your parents over tea and a tray of cheese and fruit. You’ll need to get on the road soon if you want to make it home before dark, and Mingyu is already about to vibrate out of his skin at the thought of finally getting his hands on you.
He can tell you’re counting down the minutes in your head too, by the way you can’t seem to keep your eyes off him or stop your knee from bouncing or fully concentrate on the conversation. Mingyu fills in the gaps you leave, does his best to act as if he’s not currently picturing you naked, and laughs probably a bit too much every time your dad makes a joke.
He’s nervous again, mainly because his thoughts are far from pure and your parents are far too close, but also because he’s not sure you won’t jump him the minute you settle into the car. He’d like to at least get a few miles away before devouring you, and he doesn’t know if you’ll give him the opportunity to do so.
Obviously, Mingyu’s not complaining. It gives him a sense of pride that he can affect you this way, make you want him enough to change your plans when you were clearly hellbent on getting him to fuck you in your twin bed. In almost any other house with almost any other people, he would’ve been more than down, but he just wasn’t willing to risk ruining his relationship with your parents, which would have definitely happened if they caught him banging their daughter while she was supposed to be giving him a tour.
That’s not something he could come back from, and considering the fact that he wants to marry you someday, he thinks he made the right choice. That doesn’t make it any easier though, knowing you want him and not being able to do anything about it.
“We should probably get going, right, Mingyu?” You ask during a natural lull in the conversation.
“Yeah, we’ve got a couple hours ahead of us but I wish we could stay,” he agrees, trying to appear reluctant to be leaving instead of ecstatic. He thinks he sells it, your mom letting out a pleased ‘aw’ and your dad leaning over to clap him on the shoulder and say, “Maybe next time y’all can sleep over.”
“We would love that, dad,” you assure him with a smile before standing and taking Mingyu’s hand to pull him up with you. Your parents trail behind as he follows you to the front door, his eyes resolutely caught on the back of your head rather than your thighs in that damned skirt.
“Let us know when you get home, okay, sweetie?” Your mom requests gently, folding her arms around you and letting her eyes fall shut as she hugs you tightly.
“We love you,” your dad reminds you, wrapping you up in a hug of his own before letting go and turning to Mingyu. He offers a hand and Mingyu beams, shaking it firmly and nodding when he tells him to drive safely. Mingyu always drives safely, especially when you’re in the passenger seat, but he knows it was more of a command than a request anyway.
You both wave when you get to the car, Mingyu opening your door for you and waiting for you to climb in before shutting it gently. He jogs over to the driver’s side and slides in, turning the car on and holding the wheel tighter than is strictly necessary.
Now that you’re alone and in an enclosed space, the tension is stifling. You fiddle with the air controls and Mingyu sets up the playlist he made for you, pulling out of the driveway just as the first song starts to play.
It’s one he’s fucked you to before, of course, and all it does is remind him of just how badly he wants you, how badly he needs you. He can feel the arousal stirring in his stomach, feel it clouding his mind and his judgment, and he knows there’s no way he’ll make it two hours without feeling you wrapped around him.
So he takes a right instead of a left, turns into the first parking lot he sees, and parks in the darkest corner he can find.
“Here?” You ask, excitement clear in your voice as he unbuckles his seatbelt and shuts the car off.
“Here,” he affirms, getting out of the car with his jaw clenched and his jeans tight. You meet him in the backseat, your hands disappearing beneath your skirt to start working your panties down. He stops you before you get too far, pulls you into his lap and breathes, “Wanna fuck you in them,” as he pushes the gusset to the side and drags his fingers through your folds.
You’re soaking and fever hot, and Mingyu lets out a rough groan as he brings his wet fingers up to his mouth. You taste amazing, as always, and when you press your lips to his in a searing kiss, he knows you can taste yourself. It just makes everything hotter, makes his dick twitch in his jeans and his heart race in his chest, makes him moan into your mouth and bring his fingers back to your cunt so he can get you even wetter, even messier.
He sinks in one, then another, your walls forming to them immediately and sucking them back in when he pulls them out. Normally, he’d make you cum two or three times before he even gives you his dick, but he’s desperate and it seems you are too.
“Just get in me, Mingyu,” you cry into his mouth, your arms wrapped around his neck as your hips jerk back and forth with the movements of his fingers.
“One more, baby,” he sighs against your lips, working a third digit inside of you and curling, searching, until he hits the spot that makes you gush. Predictably, you tighten and get even wetter around his fingers as he targets your g-spot with every thrust, and he figures he might as well go for an orgasm while he’s at it.
His lips leave yours so he can kiss down your neck, nipping his way to the sensitive skin of your collarbone and sucking a mark there while he stretches you out for his cock. You whine when he spreads his fingers, whimper when he digs his teeth into your flesh, moan when he rubs his fingertips into the patch of nerves inside you. All of your sounds are heavenly, and they also have him so hard, he feels like he could cry.
He prays you’re getting close, is fairly certain you are by the clenching of your cunt and the grinding of your hips, but just to be sure, he shifts his thumb to your clit and presses quick circles into it, the little bud throbbing as you climb higher and higher.
“Cum, baby, please,” Mingyu whispers into your throat, knowing you can feel his lips brushing against your skin and hoping you can feel the vibrations of his voice too.
Your pussy quivers around his fingers, wetness seeping out of your undulating walls as you cum with a sharp keen. He works you through it, wishes he could turn a light on so he could see your face better but knows that you have to be quick and discrete if you don’t want to get caught.
His cock twitches, precum leaking into his boxers, and as soon as your cunt stops squeezing his fingers, he slides them out of you and sucks them into his mouth to clean them off (and to taste you again) before undoing his jeans and belt and pulling his cock out. You whine when you feel him against you, lifting your hips just enough to get the head notched at your entrance and starting to sink down.
His hands fly to your hips, his fingers clenching in the delicate material of your skirt as your pussy swallows him. You just keep sucking him in deeper and deeper until there’s nowhere left to go, until your hips are flush with his and he’s bottomed out inside of you, until he has to let his head drop to your shoulder at the feeling of your hot, wet cunt wrapped around him.
In such a tight space it’s hard for you to get enough room to rise up and down on his cock, so he lifts your hips and starts bucking up, fucking into you with quick, rough thrusts. You’re so wet, he can hear it, the slick sounds of his dick filling you music to his ears.
You’re perfect, so beautiful and soft and sweet and just for him, only for him, and fuck, he’s already getting close. He wanted to last longer, but after hours of trying to balance being respectful and being absolutely mad for you, he’s exhausted and even more susceptible to the molten velvet of your pussy.
Mingyu doesn’t know how much longer he can hold it off, especially when you start moaning his name and making little punched out noises every time he hits the end of you, so he slides one hand between your bodies and gets his fingers on your clit. You get tighter as soon as he touches you, and you’re so slippery, his fingers glide as he rubs tiny circles onto the swollen bundle of nerves.
Now that he’s not holding you up, it’s less fucking and more grinding, but that means he gets to stay inside of you and feel every clench, every squeeze, every ripple of your walls around him. You make him feel so good, every single time, and already he can feel his balls drawing up and his dick getting harder as he starts nearing the edge.
“Are you close, baby? Please be close,” he gasps brokenly, his head tilting back against the seat so he can gaze at you, the hand on your hip rucking your skirt up so he can watch his dick disappear inside of you. The sight of you in his favorite skirt with his favorite panties wrenched to the side as his cock stretches your pussy is one he’ll never forget, even if he can barely make you out in the darkness of the car.
You nod, your breath hitching and your back arching as his cock twitches and jerks inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold it off any longer, the pleasure so sharp it almost hurts, and he can’t hold in his sounds either, moans and whimpers leaving his lips as the wave starts to overtake him.
His heart is pounding, his vision whited out and his hearing all but gone, and it’s all he can do to keep breathing, keep up the circles on your clit, keep himself from crying actual tears when you whine his name and cum around him. He breaks as soon as you do, your walls fluttering wildly around his dick as ropes of cum paint the inside of your cunt.
His hips buck in little movements, fucking his cum in even deeper, and he doesn’t let up with his fingers, pushing you through your orgasm and right up to another. His cock is so sensitive but he wants to feel you cum again, speeding up the circles on your clit until you’re whimpering and shaking on top of him.
You collapse against him, your face in his chest and your arms falling from his neck as you go boneless. He wraps himself around you, holding you tight and rubbing your back, murmuring sweet little nothings into your ear as you come down. He can feel his cum starting to seep out of you as his dick softens. It’s probably staining his jeans but he doesn’t care, can only care about you and how you’re feeling.
“Alright, baby?” He whispers, waiting for you to nod before pulling out and starting to disentangle himself from you. He wants to stay, wants to hold you for hours, but he’s not keen on getting arrested and there's still a long drive ahead. You’re sluggish, your movements slow and clumsy as you climb off of him, wincing at the slight soreness.
He began keeping tissues in his center console after the last time you did this, so he at least has something to clean you up with, his hand gentle as he wipes the cum away before tucking a clean tissue into your panties so any extra will be caught. He cleans his dick off and puts it away, redoing his jeans and checking that the coast is clear.
He opens the door as quietly as he can, running around to your side and helping you out, smiling proudly when he catches the way your legs shake before making sure you’re all buckled in and gently closing the door. Jogging back to the driver’s side, he looks around one more time and finds no squad cars or flashing lights, letting out a sigh of relief when he realizes you’ve gotten away with it.
He hopes you can sleep on the way home, turns on your seat warmer and lays his hand on your thigh, waiting for you to cover it with yours before turning to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and whispering, “I love you.”
You mumble it back, your eyes already closed, and he grins, starting the car and backing out of the secluded parking spot. Now that he’s met your parents and (hopefully) won them over, he’s got two hours to think about how he’s going to ask for their blessing to marry you.
Should be easy, right?
AN: please i am BEGGING on my KNEES for your thoughts and feelings!!! thank you to @petrichor-mingi for beta reading 💖
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The Girl in IT - 7. The All Hands Meeting
A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU
The LIST │ Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: A look into a typical day at Miller Construction Group. Chaos ensues (naturally).
Chapter Warnings and Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, Office sex, Desk sex, Inappropriate usage of PowerPoint, Tommy fucks around and finds out, No Beta we die like men!
Word Count: 4.4K
A/N: And the hijinks are back! I wanted to try something new this week, and it was the perfect opportunity to showcase all of our fun supporting characters in 'The Girl in IT'! I thought what better way to introduce everyone was to include their commentary, like an episode of 'The Office'! This one is a doozy, and I hope you all enjoy!
#MCG ADMIN
50 members
Sarah (HR)
Good morning, Team!
I hope you're all doing well. I'd like to announce a mandatory All-Hands HR Meeting today at 11 am in Conference Room A, co-facilitated by Tess and me. We'll have a brief presentation, and for those working remotely, please log into Zoom to join the meeting. Following the session, thanks to Bill, we'll have lunch and refreshments provided.
Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Looking forward to seeing all of you soon!
Tommy
Sarah, are you gonna bust your Papi's balls in front of everyone for posting that naughty photo? 💀☠️🪦
Frank (Interior Design)
Will there be an opportunity for discussion following the presentation? I'm eager to delve into the minds of SlackGate and understand the motivations behind their actions the other day.
Connie (Reception)
It's clearly because they're fucking, Frank. 🍆🍑🦪
Frank (Interior Design)
Who is? Our fearless leader and our shy girl in IT?
Until one of them makes it official, it's just hearsay!
Is this meeting a hard launch for a new power couple? 👩❤️💋👨
Sarah (HR)
Yes, there will be an open-forum discussion after my presentation but NO, we will not be talking about the events of the other day in detail.
Connie, this is a professional space and we will conduct ourselves as such.
Connie (Reception)
Why am I always being singled out?? Frank started it!
Frank (Interior Design)
Did I not professionally conduct myself? Geez Connie, I'm not the one sending nudes to our Boss when clearly, he has a girlfriend.
Wait.
Oops?
(Sorry Connie 🤡)
Bill (Civil)
Frank!
What do I have to do to get you to behave for once?
Frank (Interior Design)
Oh, I could think of a few ways...
Why don't you come and find out once you're done handling your bratwurst out there?
Sarah (HR)
I don't get paid enough for this shit.
"Thank you, everyone, for coming together at such short notice. While I'm aware this all-hands meeting was abrupt, recent events in the past few days have made it essential. Tess and I genuinely appreciate your presence as we address these important matters," Sarah says with a bright smile, handing out materials. "Here's an updated Employee Handbook with a few edits. I thought it would be beneficial for us to go through it together. Are there any questions before we begin?"
"Yeah!" Tommy exclaims from the back of the room, his feet casually resting against the edge of the table. "How long until we get to the part of this meeting where we discuss just how much of a bad boy your Daddy was the other day?"
Tommy
Look, I love my brother, I do. He's always so serious, so noble, providing for everyone and all that, making sure we have a roof over our heads. Shit, he's gotten me out of a lot of binds in my life-
[He looks a bit uncomfortable and clears his throat, nodding.]
... anyway, it's a rare thing to see my brother slip up like that, you know? Didn't think he had it in him, honestly. It's been a few decades since I've seen his twig and berries, but shit, I know he's packing! He's a Miller, for fucks sake!
[he puffs his chest out a little at that, chuckling to himself]
But Sugar? She's been a fucking godsend! Never in my life have I seen my big ol brother act a fool, especially over a woman! What can I say? It's great to not be the fuck-up brother for once! I'm gonna milk out SlackGate til the end of time!
"Tommy," Joel warns through his teeth, glaring at his brother. "Cut it out."
Sarah rolls her eyes in response as she fiddles with her laptop, the projector behind her illuminating with her PowerPoint presentation. "Like I was saying, this presentation is just going to go over the changes we have implemented in the last few days, including proper Slack etiquette and conduct. You would think that as grown adults, we would know better than sending inappropriate images and messages through company property and time," she clears her throat, glancing over at Joel, then to Tommy, who winks in her direction knowingly. "...including those who decide to engage and participate in unsanctioned secret channels-"
Frank's hand suddenly shoots up, his face awash in mock outrage. "I'll have you know, the watercooler channel serves a purpose, folks! When I caught wind of this 'secret channel' gossip circulating among the Nosy Nancies in the breakroom, I was appalled! Who would dare to stoop so low—"
"Frank, you invited me to the chat just this morning," Jesse remarks, casually holding up his phone as evidence. "It's titled 'Frank's-secret-slack-chat.' I thought it was some kind of exclusive club or something."
Frank
Hi, [waves to you] is this on? Yeah?
Hi. I'm Frank.
Listen, Sarah was getting a little too vigilant about monitoring Slack ever since Tommy sent us a little treat last year [he laughs] so I had to do something about it, you know?
[It pans out to Frank leaning against his desk chair, typing away on his secret Slack Chat.]
The chat started as an open forum for discussion on the everyday going-ons of Miller Construction Group. Do we just so happen to discuss the private lives of our peers? Maybe. Do we mean any harm by it?
[He gives you a wicked smile] Maybe.
"You guys, you know, the longer I keep getting interrupted, the longer we're all going to stay here in this conference room, and the longer we have to wait to eat Bill's food. You know how he is," She looks outside of the window, the smoke from Bill's grill swirls like a plume as he flips over a juicy steak. "He hates it when he has to serve his food cold. As I was saying, it should be obvious that we shouldn't be sending inappropriate images or photos to one another through Slack or e-mail."
"Hey! It was just one time, and it was an accident!" Tommy retorts, "Besides, it was hardly inappropriate, I was just only trying to show Maria this weird rash I got-"
"What does that mean, anyway?" Connie cuts in, casting a glance your way. "Inappropriate photos? And is there a difference between accidentally sending them or doing it on purpose?"
"Yeah," you shoot her a pointed look. "Sending nude photos to someone who doesn't want them is actually considered sexual harassment," you say, raising your voice a bit and turning in your seat. "I mean, you could get arrested for that, Connie," you add with a sing-song tone, a smirk playing on your lips as you glance at her. "You have nothing to worry about though, right?" you challenge, rolling your chair towards Joel, and taking his hand in his. "Not unless you did send naked photos to my boyfriend?"
Connie
Look, I didn't know that Mr. Miller and Sugar were boning. I know how this looks- like I don't believe in girl code or something. I am a girls girl! If Sugar was just forthcoming about who gave her those damn hickeys before SlackGate happened, I wouldn't have sent her boyfriend nude photos of myself! A girl's gotta try, you know? I was only trying to shoot my shot!
[She looks a bit uncomfortable, picking at a hangnail.]
... but you have to admit, Mr. Miller is H-O-T hot. God. I love me a graying man in flannel. I always thought to myself, there must be a story here. How does a millionaire who looks like that be single all this time? does he have anyone? is it a sugar baby? does he have a secret love child? I mean-
[she looks over her shoulder where Joel is, arms around his chest as he winks at Sugar. There's a hint of jealousy in Connie's eyes.]
Is it true, though? Is it really sexual harassment if I send unsolicited photos of myself? Do you think he's gonna press charges?
"It's true. Sending unsolicited photos of yourself to unsuspecting parties is sexual harassment, Connie. Not to mention creepy," Sarah winces, shooting you an apologetic smile. "So please don't be sending any photos of that nature to anyone that you work with, especially not in the admin group Slack."
"Yeah, Joel!" Tommy chides. "Keep that shlong in your pants, brother!"
Sarah
You would think that working for my family is a cakewalk? Please. I've been diagnosed with IBS and GAD since I started working here five years ago. I sometimes take half an edible just to make it to lunchtime.
[Her head rests on her desk, and as the events of SlackGate unfold, an endless barrage of messages from the admin Slack channel floods her monitor. She can't help but groan in response.]
Listen. I love my Dad. I've never really had to worry about his behavior at work before, not like how I have to with Uncle Tommy... but what the hell was he thinking? I can't unsee that! What if Ellie was on that chat? Could you imagine the trauma? My trauma?
"Okay, let's turn to page 12, where we'll go over all the recent updates," Sarah announces, clicking through her PowerPoint. A collective gasp echoes in the room as the slide projects onto the screen, revealing an image – the image of Joel. However, where his exposed package would be, an eggplant emoji tastefully takes its place. It resembles one of those generic memes easily made with a phone app, complete with the semi-imposed words 'Keep Calm and Shlong On!' in big bold letters.
"Shit!" she exclaims, hurriedly pressing the ESC button as she tries to close out her PowerPoint. She slams her laptop shut, the tell-tell sound of a crack echoing throughout the conference room. You hear Tess silently scoff in the distance, and Sarah closes her eyes in embarrassment as the room falls silent.
... and then, all hell breaks loose.
Tommy is beside himself, his face red, and his eyes filled with tears as he doubles over in laughter, clutching at his middle. "Shit, Henry! When I asked you to do this, I honestly didn't think you had the balls to go through with it, but I so owe you, my man!" he exclaims, enthusiastically high-fiving his nephew-in-law. "This is the best fucking day of my life!"
"Henry?!" Sarah exclaims, her face flushed with rage. "This is what you needed to do in the office at 6 am this morning?!"
Henry's expression crumbles as he witnesses his wife's ire, suddenly realizing that he's just dug himself into a deep hole. "Sarah," he stammers, attempting to regain composure. "This isn't what it looks like—"
Henry
Yeah, Tommy asked me to put that meme into Sarah's PowerPoint last night. I would have done it at home, but Sarah doesn't like to bring her laptop home, you know, work-life balance? So I had to make an excuse to come to the office this morning. Was it a dumb ass idea? Yeah, probably. Did I kind of want to get back at Sarah's dad for making my life a living hell?
[He looks at you awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.]
Honestly, when you're like five beers in, drinking with Tommy- everything seems like a good idea. He dared me, you know? Said that I'm such a simp, trying to always please Joel. Called me a fucking pussy and everything! What else was I supposed to do?
Sarah's going to kill me, huh? Do you think that she's gonna ask for a divorce?
"It's a meme. A meme of my Dad's dick pic with AN EGGPLANT EMOJI?!?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??! WHAT DID YOU MEAN FOR IT TO LOOK LIKE?!" she screams, pulling at her hair. "AND YOU, TOMMY MILLER!" she points at her uncle furiously, "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!"
"Baby," Henry replies, his hands raised in an attempt to calm her down. "It's just a harmless prank, look—"
"No, you look, Henry! Does it seem like it's just a harmless prank?" she gestures to the room, her eyes wide. "Don't even think about coming to bed tonight. I can't even look at you! How dare you collaborate with Tommy, do you really want to go this way? Because I see you fucking around, and you're about to find out-"
"Oh come on, Sarah! you know these all-hands meetings are dull as fuck, I don't even know why you even bother, no one ever listens anyway!" Tommy exclaims, looking around the room. "Isn't this fun you guys? Come on, lighten up! It's not like y'all haven't seen my dick before! Your Papi's gonna live another day, I think we should all feel as comfortable as we want, fuck the rules!"
"...but Joel's is much bigger than yours!" someone yells amid the chaos, laughter, and banter echoing through the room. Sarah looks around helplessly in a panic, trying to grasp the situation unfolding.
"Hey! I'll have you know that I ain't small!" Tommy yells in retaliation.
"Do you think that this is helping, Uncle Tommy? I'm beginning to believe that the only reason why people don't take me seriously is because of all of the shit that you pull!" Sarah groans, looking like she's at the end of her rope. "I could mention that Tess is helping me facilitate this meeting to scare everyone but she's just off to the side, pretending to not be drinking under the table!"
Tess
[She is sitting off to the side, smiling to herself as the chaos ensues, shaking her head.]
I am drinking, because who else thinks it's appropriate to call an all-hands meeting first thing in the morning? I don't even want to be here. It's so fucking pointless, trying to get these shitheads to conform to a set of rules.
[She witnesses Joel storming up to Tommy, his face full of rage and irritation, finger pointed right at him.]
This is the consequence of hiring friends and family, isn't it? I tried to tell them it was a bad idea, but who's listening to me? I get it, everyone thinks I'm a bit of a bitch, and well... yeah, I am. Alright, time to rein this in—
[She suddenly stands from her seat and walks over to Sarah, who appears to be disassociating into madness.]
"HEY!" Tess bellows, clapping her hands together. The room abruptly falls silent, Joel's hands frozen mid-grab on Tommy's flannel. Forty-eight pairs of eyes pivot towards Tess, a blend of shock and embarrassment spreading across their faces, reminiscent of children caught sneaking cookies from the jar by their mother. "Okay, that's enough!"
Her eyes are narrowed, hands on her hips. "This is what's going to happen. You're going to stop sending each other dick and tit pics through Slack, because as much as it is amusing," she smirks, winking at you, "I would really rather not have to deal with the fallout that comes with it," she shoots a pointed look at Connie, whose eyebrows shoot up to her hairline.
"The next time someone tries to fuck around and find out? I'm going to take that dirty photo, print a thousand fucking copies of it and stick that shit all over the office. Every fucking inch, every fucking nook and cranny is just gonna be dick and tit central," she paces around the room, placing a warning hand on Frank's shoulder. "As for this secret Slack chat, I'm going to give you all one chance to come clean. If you don't, and Sugar's report doesn't match who outs themselves right now," She scans the room, a smirk on the corner of her mouth appearing in satisfaction. "Yeah, you didn't think that we were monitoring that shit, huh? Well, I'll throw you all a bone: raise your hands if you are in this secret group chat, and I'll consider not docking your pay for insubordination. Your choice."
Frank
[Looking at Tess as she slightly stumbles from where she's standing.]
Yeah, she's toast.
The majority of the room begins to raise their hands, except you, Tess, Joel, and surprisingly, Frank.
Tess scoffs. "Really Frank? Really?"
"I have no clue what you're trying to imply, and seriously Tess? Are you really going to play that card? Are you going to dock your pay too?" Frank retorts. "I mean, just last night, you were drunkenly telling me that you heard Joel and Sugar-"
"If you utter another word, I'll fire you on the spot, Frank!" Joel shouts from across the room. "I mean it this time!"
Joel and Sugar
[Joel wraps his arm around your waist, leaning in to kiss your forehead while gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ears.]
There, that's better. Don't hide your face, Mami; you're too beautiful to be hiding all of that, okay?
Right, [he clears his throat.] You would think that people would be a little more professional around here, show me a bit of respect—
[His gaze shifts to Tommy, who's engaged in laughter and banter with the team, his chest puffed out in triumph. Joel glares at him, shaking his head.]
I'd like to think I try really hard to be a good boss. I pay fairly, I allow remote work, and damn it, I take pride in offering the best employee benefits in all of Austin. We even take a company trip to Hawaii every year, for fucks sake!
[You squeeze his hand, pressing a kiss to his temple as he takes a frustrated breath.]
Papi, if it means anything, I think you're the best boss any of these folks could ever ask for. They don't deserve you.
[Joel nods.]
Look, I don't know what to tell you. I got the ride of my life that morning, my sweet Mami riding my cock just right, you know? I would have been okay, going into my meeting with blue balls, just as long as Sugar got hers. Your pleasure is my pleasure... but I was just so fucking horny! I started to work out, yeah? Wanted to keep shit tight for my baby, and fuck, I was... what do they young kids say?
Feeling yourself?
[Joel nods again, smiling at you.]
Yeah, 'feeling myself' or whatever. Anyway, I was in the meeting, and you messaged me, right? saying that you weren't going to be in for lunch? and I don't know if was the disappointment, or if I was just too horny, but fuck. I quickly excused myself and took a quick dick pic in my bathroom. I thought I was in the right Slack channel... so I sent it, and then the guys at The H Group asked me a whole bunch of questions, and then an hour later-
Chaos.
The messages kept flooding in! Frank was asking about how long I was, and Connie was sending me nude photos of herself- in my fucking office!
Wait, what?
[Your gaze meets Connie's, nervously seated as Frank goes on and on beside her. Her hands twitch like a possum that just got run over by an 18-wheeler. Yeah. Squirm for me, you think to yourself.]
Yeah! And I just sat there, in shock, you know? Like this is the kind of shit that Tommy pulls, and I couldn't believe that I was so fucking stupid! Can you imagine the kind of therapy Sarah's gonna need? What if Ellie saw this?
"Who's up for some snacks?" Tommy calls out to the team, holding a basket filled with rather sizable cucumbers, bananas, and eggplants. "Help yourselves, compliments of Joel!"
Ellie
[at the job site across town, hard hat fixed crookedly on top of her head.]
Yeah, I saw it. There is not enough bleach in this world that could ever erase that image from my existence.
[she glares at Sam, who just shrugs.]
Thanks a lot, asshole!
"Alright, you degenerates!" Bill booms, bursting through the conference doors wearing a 'Kiss the Cook' apron, tongs in one hand, and a tray piled high with thickly cut steaks in the other. "This steak isn't going to eat itself!"
The team swarms Bill like seagulls spotting a tasty piece of bread on the boardwalk. Tommy grabs a t-bone with his bare hands, biting into it with the enthusiasm of a caveman.
"Hey," Joel whispers to you, his shoulder gently bumping yours. "Want to help me with something?" You nod eagerly as Joel swiftly guides you out of the conference room, heading towards the executive offices. You giggle as Joel ushers you into the room, pulling you into a kiss, his foot playfully kicking the door shut.
He moves the both of you over to where Tommy's desk is, pushing aside its contents off the tabletop in one fell swoop, the items clattering onto the floor. "Papi, what are you doing?" you ask cheekily as he bends you over the desk, lifting your skirt.
Joel growls and shoves you down onto the desk, his hands harshly grabbing onto your hips. Your arms scramble to find purchase as you knock over a framed photo of Tommy and Maria, watching helplessly as the image of their smiling faces falls onto the floor. His palm travels across your back, pinning you in place as he fiddles with his zipper with his other hand. "Line item 6," Joel murmurs as his hands begin to travel across the globes of your ass, squeezing and spreading and slapping them until you're so wet you can feel it dripping down your thighs.
Joel hums in appreciation. "Thats right Mami, get nice and wet for me, okay?" You can feel him pump his cock against you, notching his head at your entrance. "You gonna make a nice mess for me, baby?" he asks through gritted teeth as he strokes through your folds with his dick.
"Yesss," you moan, pushing your ass back toward him.
Joel pushes into you to the hilt in one brutal thrust as you cry out, grabbing onto the edge of the desk as he begins to pound into you in earnest, his thrusts so hard and punishing that the desk begins to rattle. You squeeze your eyes shut as Joel gathers your hair in his hand, pulling you back towards him. "Fuck baby, I'm gonna come so fucking hard, fill this pussy up and watch as it drips out of you, maybe fuck you again if we still have time-"
You gasp, taking a deep breath as his thrusts become so erratic it pushes you up the desk, lifting one leg onto the surface as Joel angles himself higher, hitting a spot so deep within you that you bite your lip from crying out, not wanting to attract any unwanted attention. You squeeze around his cock as you chase your high, hoping that Joel can maintain his composure long enough so you both can finish together. "No Mami, stay with me, come with me-"
He leans over you, pressing you onto the desk as he grabs onto your shoulders, pounding into you, his breath hot against your neck as he buries his face into it, huffing from exertion. "I'm so close Mami, I'm gonna... Fuck!" He bites your shoulder as he cums in one last brutal stroke, his hands harshly grasping your thighs as you feel his hot spend flow deep into your belly. You rock your hips onto him as his hand goes to your clit, rubbing until you are weak in the knees, your body trembling beneath his. "Fuck Joel," you say a little breathless as you slump onto the table as Joel pulls out of you, his finger probing into you as he pushes his leaking cum back where it belongs. "Come on, lets clean this up and head back before they notice-"
Joel just snorts as he zips up his jeans. "No," he replies nonchalantly as he catches his breath.
"No?" you ask as you straighten yourself up, frowning at him.
"Line item six says I bend you over his desk and leave a little souvenir," he motions to the mess on the floor, pens and papers scattered about.
"He's going to fucking murder you, Joel," you chuckle, pulling him into a kiss.
"Yeah? Well, he shouldn't have fucked around, because he's about to find out." He simply replies, taking your hand in his. "Come on, little Mami, quickly now, before he realizes we're gone..."
You share a laugh as he guides you back into the conference room. Bill raises an eyebrow at both of you, handing over a plate with steaming steak, as if he just finished cooking it. "I thought I'd save your lunches for last, figured you guys needed some extra time," he says, clearing his throat and nodding towards Tommy, who seems entirely oblivious to your brief disappearance. "You know Tommy, can't resist a good piece of steak," Bill continues, gesturing at Joel. "It's like everything around him disappears for a moment; you could rob him blind, and he wouldn't even notice," he adds with a small smile, placing a hand on Joel's shoulder and giving him a knowing look. "Enjoy your lunch, you two."
Bill
Look, I wouldn't call myself a nosy person, but I am perceptive.
[He glances at Frank whispering and giggling to Connie off to the side, rolling his eyes.]
Look at them. They think that they're the eyes and ears of this operation, but what they don't know, is that I. Know. Everything. I am a survivalist. I gather intel on all of my surroundings, even if I am surrounded by absolute morons.
[Bill takes another sip of coffee, subtly glancing around him before making eye contact with you, the reader, once more]
So if you want to know the real scoop, the real ins-and-outs of this company, and not have to deal with the lunatics in Frank's not-so-secret shit talk club, come to me, I'll set you on the right path. At least I have snacks.
[He looks off to you and Joel, giving a curt nod as he starts to cut into his own steak.]
As much as I respect Tommy, he's not the one signing my checks at the end of the day. If there's anything that I value more than anything, it's loyalty. I don't like to play around, hate it when people bite the hands that feed them. People like that need to be taught a lesson. Joel's a good man, and sometimes, we fuck up... but it's how we handle ourselves after the fact that matters. If that means I help out an old friend, well-
[he smiles as Tommy walks towards the conference room doors, heading back to his office. Bill smiles out into the distance.]
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Faking It | Part VIII
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader
A/N: AHHH WE ARE AT THE GRAND FINALE!!! Y'all, I'm so sorry it took a galactic year but I hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this final episode of trope city. Thank you so much for all the support <3
Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.
CW: brief allusion to self-harm, swearing, making out, ANGST GALORE, fluff (not in any particular order)
Start from the beginning: Part I
Masterlist
“Are you cold?” Steven goes to take off his jacket.
“I’m fine,” you say impatiently. “Just get on with it, will you?”
Steven shrugs his jacket back on while you wrap your arms around yourself, holding in a shiver. The morning is much cooler than you expected it to be and there’s a white mist hanging over the surface of the placid water. Steven watches you pretend to be comfortable in your sundress under the moody skies. You’ve been pretending a lot lately.
“Today, Steven,” you say through gritted teeth because you’re clenching them to avoid them chattering.
He lets out a resolute sigh, looking down at the ground. He seems anxious. “Your boyfriend,” he says with a grimace, peering up at you briefly before reverting his gaze to the dock underfoot. “How well do you know him?”
You furrow your brows. “Excuse me?”
Steven purses his lips, kicking a stray pebble into the water. It makes a dull plopping sound before disappearing into the lake. “I suspected something was off the night of the bachelor party.”
“Not again.” You sigh irritably.
“He had very little to say about you,” he states. “Mostly just random trivia. Said you don’t like chocolate.”
You raise your eyebrows calmly without responding.
“When the guys asked how you got together, he clammed up. It was weird.”
You’re starting to regret your decision to talk to him. And you’re certainly no longer feeling sorry for him. “Do you have a point?”
Steven nods. “Then I went to see you. And you didn’t deny that this fling with your little aviator wasn’t all that serious.”
You find it ironic that Steven refers to Bradley as little considering Bradley is half a head taller than him, but you let it slide. “Your five minutes are almost up,” you respond coldly.
Steven watches you soberly, but something about the quirk of his eyebrow makes you think he might be enjoying himself. “He has a girlfriend,” he says.
You stare at him mutely, waiting for the air to return to your lungs. Slowly, everything inside of you begins to slide out of place, as if you’ve forgotten how to hold it all together. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper. Meanwhile, every single moment you’ve ever experienced with Bradley Bradshaw filters through your mind as you desperately try to pick out the details that might have, in hindsight, served as clues. The hesitation to participate in your scheme; the reluctance to sleep in your bed; the aggravating lack of communication – isolated, these events might have been meaningless but, put together, they are questionable at the very least.
“Wasn’t difficult to figure out,” Steven continues, unaware that your brain is scrambling to put all the pieces together. “He’s all over her Instagram.”
“He doesn’t have an Instagram –”
“He’s not tagged, but it’s him alright. Some of your other pilot friends are also there, so…” Steven shrugs smugly, as if he’s performed a feat and is expecting commendation. When you don’t say anything, he decides to rub salt in the wound. “You know whose Instagram he’s not on?” he asks proudly. “Yours.”
You don’t bother looking up at him again. The bobbing dock starts to augment your vertigo and the gentle sway of your body in the breeze makes you feel strangely detached. You’re not thinking about Steven’s annoying tone, or his smug face, or even the gentle nudge he’s giving you to recapture your attention; you’re devising a plan of action for the next five hours, because that’s how long you will need to coexist with Bradley Bradshaw. After that, you will never have to deal with him again.
…
You make your way across the lawn unhurriedly, not keen on spending brunch pretending to still be enamored with your fake boyfriend. The escalating number of deceptions in what was originally a straightforward plot is making your head spin.
You see him leaning over the railing of the terrace, a beer in his hand. He’s staring out into the distance with a bit of a squint despite the dreary day. You hate how good he looks in his jeans and light, button-up shirt, the sleeves of which are rolled up to his elbows; you hate the languid movement of his arm as he takes a sip of his drink; the slow, graceful fashion with which he rests it back over the rail; the relaxed bend in his wrist. Everything about him suddenly seems despicable.
When he sees you, he gives you a smirk – the kind that sets your insides ablaze despite your growing resentment – and pushes off the railing to start in your direction. You let out a wavering sigh, trying to extinguish whatever lingering feelings you may have. You’ve resolved to omit the true purpose of Steven’s visit; you can’t imagine a worse time and place to air your dirty laundry than at your sister’s wedding brunch with an audience of your closest family members. So, you smile back at him as he skips down the steps – you’ve become quite proficient at pretending; what’s another few hours of faking it?
Bradley’s pace quickens as he cuts across the yard until he’s nearly running and, when he arrives, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. He leans down to kiss you, but you inadvertently turn away and he ends up pecking your cheek. Mistake number one.
You give him another tense smile, taking a step back because his hands are much too casually exploring your rigid body. Mistake number two.
“So,” you say, nearly taking a chunk out of the inside of your cheek as you bite into it forcefully. “Cheat on anybody lately?” you ask tersely. Mistake number –
“Excuse me?” he says, taken aback.
So much for pretending. You watch him coldly as his expression transforms but, as it turns out, you have nothing else to add.
“What did he say to you?” Bradley asks, eyes darkening under his converging eyebrows.
You let out a derisive laugh.
“What did he say?” he repeats.
You glare at him. “You know exactly what he said.”
Bradley bristles. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
You watch him impassively, as if his betrayal has had zero effect on you. “Are you fucking serious, Bradley?”
Bradley’s offended expression turns to hurt as his eyes sweep over your features. “You’re not even going to let me explain?” he asks in a grating whisper.
You scoff, his words confirming that there is, in fact, something to explain. “Does she know you’re here?”
Bradley shifts his jaw, his eyes narrowing. He studies you quietly for a few moments.
“What baffles me,” you say. “Is how easy it’s been for you to just lie about it.”
“Wasn’t that the whole point of this?” he asks coolly.
You chuckle although his words sting. “You’re right. This was all an act and I’m just the idiot who fell for it.”
Bradley eyes you contemptuously but says nothing.
“You almost slept with me,” you whisper, your lips trembling as you concentrate on keeping your voice steady. “Don’t tell me that that was your objective this whole time.”
Bradley’s eyebrows crease as he tries to follow your line of reasoning. “You think I agreed to this ridiculous stunt just so I could possibly have an opportunity to fuck you?” he hisses. “Why would anyone put that much effort into one – not even guaranteed – fuck?”
You watch him angrily although he does make a valid point. “Why are you here, then?” you ask, trying desperately to keep your volume down. “You have a girlfriend!”
“First of all,” Bradley says stonily. “Had.”
“When?”
He lets out a sigh.
You shake your head at him with a disdainful smile and raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Yesterday? Last week?”
“I broke up with her after you asked me to come here.”
“Why?” You shrug indifferently as though you really couldn’t care less.
“You begged me to come.”
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone!” you bite back.
Bradley lifts his eyes to nod politely at your grandparents as they pass the two of you toward the stairs leading up to the terrace. Then he hooks his arm through yours and starts dragging you away from the venue toward the docks by the lake. You struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t let go until you’re far enough away from the crowd to be out of earshot. “So what?” he rounds on you in a low voice.
You stare at him in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me.”
“It didn’t come up.”
You scoff incredulously.
“You didn’t tell me about Steven.”
“That’s not the same thing. Steven and I haven’t been together in months.”
“This wasn’t supposed to be anything, Y/N,” he says roughly. “It was all fake. Why would I even think to tell you about her?”
You look down at his brown dress shoes as they sink into the red clay of the bank, feeling the unmistakable pressure of tears as your eyes begin to well up. “It was all fake, wasn’t it?” you mutter.
“No, that’s not” – the brown dress shoes take a step forward – “you know that’s not what I meant.”
“How long have you been with her?” you ask, cutting him off.
“What does that matter?” he says wearily.
“It matters,” you respond.
Bradley sighs and looks out at the lake over your shoulder. “Six months.”
You close your eyes and take a breath. “That’s a long time.”
He nods, sucking his cheeks in as his jaw shifts forward. He’s studying your face thoughtfully. “Your turn,” he says.
“What?”
He licks his lips. “How much of it was fake?”
You scoff again, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this.”
“So, it’s fine putting me on the spot, but you can’t answer a simple question?” he says irritably.
“I put you on the spot because you lied.”
Bradley watches you coldly. “When did it stop being fake, Y/N?”
“I don’t know!” you shout in frustration. “When did it stop being fake for you?”
Bradley stares at you blankly. He runs a hand over his face, looking down. He furrows his eyebrows before glancing back up at you with a bewildered expression, as though he can’t believe you’ve just posed exactly the same question he had asked you. “It was never fake for me,” he says hoarsely.
You stare at him as a flurry of emotions does a nauseating dance in the pit of your stomach. His answer has taken you by surprise and you can’t think of anything appropriate to say in return.
When you don’t respond, he adds, “You can’t possibly not already know that.”
You slowly shake your head, wanting more than anything to believe what he says. “How would I know?”
Bradley watches you in amazement, exhaling with a small laugh as he takes a couple steps toward you. He lifts his hand and places it tenderly on your cheek. “Two months ago,” he says. “I walk into the Hard Deck, just looking for a cold beer and a night off. And the first thing I see is you behind the bar.”
You feel yourself melting right into the palm of his hand, lulled by the smooth rasp of his voice.
“You’re new,” he says, and then chuckles. “You’re definitely new because you can’t tell an ale from a lager.”
You wrinkle your eyebrows. “A what from a what?”
Bradley grins briefly before continuing. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says in a throaty whisper. You feel his face drift closer to yours just as the wind picks up. He brings his other hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “And I come up to the bar and you haven’t even said a word to me yet, all you do is look up with these wild, frantic, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, as you’re desperately trying to figure out the exact ratio of gin to tonic in somebody else’s drink.” You bite your lip sheepishly, remembering your first night working the bar. Bradley smiles at the memory. “You’re meticulously measuring out the two ingredients – which tells me, right off the bat, that you’re an extremely conscientious person – and, after you’re done, you look me right in the eye and say, ‘You look thirsty.’”
You laugh through your tears. “I did not say that.”
Bradley chuckles. “You did. And I was,” he adds.
You snort at the insinuation but then Bradley’s hand begins to trail down your neck, disrupting your train of thought. His touch is disarming and you try your best not to sink into him despite every impulse to just give in. The truth is, there’s nothing he can say that will change the fact that he played both you and his ex. So, you bring your hand up and wrap it around his wrist, pulling it away from where his fingers are resting over your heart. “Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “None of it matters anymore.”
“How could you say that?” he asks, his breathing ragged.
You sigh mechanically, expertly keeping your emotions in check. “This changes everything,” you say. “I feel like I don’t know you, Bradley. I mean, I don’t know you.”
Bradley shakes his head. “That’s not true.”
You close your eyes as if not looking at him might make it easier. “You need to leave,” you whisper.
“Look at me,” he pleads.
You open your eyes and focus your gaze on the greenest grass you’ve ever seen. Only, today, it’s grey. Must be the weather.
“Y/N,” Bradley urges, his voice cracking in his desperation. “Look at me. Please.”
“No!” The force of your response surprises even you. “You have to go,” you say resolutely.
But as you start to walk away, you hear him calling out to you. “You owe me!”
You turn around in confusion. “What?” you say under your breath.
“You heard me,” he says, marching toward you with purpose. “You owe me. Anything I want, remember?”
You stare at him incredulously. “You can’t possibly –”
“I know what I want,” he says, taking several final strides toward you before clutching your hands and holding them in between his chest and yours. “I want you – I need you – to hear me out.”
You wince as his face nears yours. “That’s not fair,” you whisper.
“Please don’t do this,” he mutters. “Please don’t. I – I’m” – his face contorts uncomfortably as he searches for the right words – “I messed up,” he says. “I’m sorry. Please.” He rests his forehead on yours. “Please forgive me.”
The irony of suffering through a real breakup with your fake boyfriend is not lost on you. It’s absurdly painful considering you’ve only realized you had feelings for this man mere days ago. But it’s not just Bradley’s towering build; not just his sculpted arms and chiselled chest that give you pause. It’s every little thing he’s ever said and done. It’s the pepper spray, the heels, the pillow wall; it’s the dancing, the kiss; it’s the way he looks at you. It’s Bradley.
You taste the salt of your own tears as they slip into your parted mouth. You want to kiss him so badly, just a little, just for a moment, just one last time. And as his lips hover hesitantly over yours you realize why. It’s simple, really. You’re in love with Bradley Bradshaw. How reckless of you. How wildly inconvenient.
…
You wipe at the spotless counter aggressively as your mind wanders once again to that fateful day three weeks ago when you did not, in fact, get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw just one last time. Not even for a moment, not even a little bit.
“It’s clean, I think,” you hear a voice at the other end of the bar. You glance up to see Jake Seresin slide out a barstool and take a seat at the counter.
“Didn’t hear you come in,” you respond, glancing at the clock. It’s barely eleven and the place is deserted. You walk toward him reluctantly, having encountered neither Bradley nor any of his friends since the day of the brunch. “Lost another bet, Seresin?” you ask, eyeing the wide brim of his tan cowboy hat.
He smirks, lifting the hat off his head and setting it down on the bar. “Funny.”
You toss your towel under the bar and place your hands on the counter. “What can I get you?”
“Oh, I’m not here to drink,” he says.
You sigh quietly, reaching for your towel again. The truth is, you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about what could have been if you hadn’t stopped the kiss. If you hadn’t pushed Bradley away. If Bradley hadn’t hurled Steven into the lake.
You glance up at Jake as he fiddles with something in his hands. He eyes you pointedly. “I think you know why I’m here,” he says.
…
“Why are you still here?”
The booming voice of your ex-boyfriend rouses you, effectively disrupting the moment you’re having with Bradley. You withdraw from the embrace, separating your hands from his as you step away.
Bradley is shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him,” he begs.
You blink up at him with a sniffle and wipe your eyes. “He’s not the problem,” you say.
Bradley juts out his jaw as Steven steps into his field of vision. “I asked you a question,” Steven says forcefully.
Bradley watches him coldly. “Don’t start with me, Steven,” he says quietly.
“You’re not welcome here anymore,” Steven continues, bringing his shoulders back as he tries to tower over Bradley.
“Steven, stop” – you try to intervene, but Bradley cuts you off.
“I said,” Bradley hisses as he straightens his back to reciprocate the gesture. “Don’t start with me.”
Steven chuckles. “What are you going to do? Hit me?”
Bradley turns away. “You’re not worth it.”
Just when you start to think that the matter will work itself out peacefully, however, Steven shoves Bradley in the back, sending him stumbling slightly downhill. Bradley regains his footing just as Steven comes after him and blocks his subsequent attack, pushing him away. “I’m not fighting you!” Bradley roars.
“Steven, stop it!” you shout, running after them as Steven continues trying to provoke Bradley.
“What’s the matter?” Steven asks nastily. “Did I blow your cover, hotshot?”
Bradley narrows his eyes and his hands curl instinctively into fists. He looks like he’s about to snap. “Bradley!” you scream.
…
“Bradley,” you say calmly, meeting Jake’s gaze.
Jake nods. “I’m going to have to be honest,” he says. “Living with him has become unbearable. And, well, we blame you.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s not my problem.” You drop the dishtowel onto the counter and start wiping anew.
Jake’s hand lands over the cloth and he yanks it out of your grasp. “Listen here,” he says. “I don’t know how he fucked this up because he won’t say a goddamn word about it. But you’re gonna tell me what happened because I’m tired of this mess y’all made.”
“I didn’t do anything,” you say.
“I highly doubt that,” Jake says with an insincere smile. “The guy’s fucking in love with you, there’s no way he left you of his own accord.”
“The guy had a girlfriend of six months he didn’t think to tell me about,” you lash out at Jake, wiping the grin right off his face. “He’d been coming to the Hard Deck almost daily for two whole months without even mentioning her existence. And then he had the audacity to tell me he liked me from the moment we met? Either he was the shittiest boyfriend ever or he wasn’t as into me as he claims to have been. In any case, he’s a liar.”
…
“I didn’t lie about anything,” Bradley says steadily, watching Steven advance toward him once more. “There was no cover to blow.”
“Please!” Steven cackles. “The two of you fabricated an entire relationship!”
You close your eyes, much too tired to pretend any longer. If Steven is hellbent on divulging this particular secret, you aren’t going to be the one to stop him.
Bradley glares at Steven. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns to look at you somberly. “I love you! I have been in love with you since day one,” he says. “I don’t even remember what not loving you feels like.”
“But you had a girlfriend,” you say agonizingly.
He nods, his eyes filling with tears. “Yeah,” he admits. “I did.”
…
“He’s not a liar, he’s a victim of circumstance,” Jake reasons.
You blink at him skeptically. “Is the circumstance that he’s an asshole?”
Jake snorts. “Maybe I will have a drink,” he says, scrunching up his nose.
You sigh and reach for a tumbler. You set it down on the polished counter and, giving Jake a pointed look, reach to grab a second one. He chuckles as you pour the whiskey.
“Neat,” he comments. “Just the way I like it.”
You sigh and down the glass with a straight face. “Why didn’t he just end things with her sooner?”
Jake sets his drink down after taking a swig. He narrows his eyes. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”
…
“Tell him, Y/N,” Steven says forcefully. “Tell him to get the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of him.”
“Steven, stop it!” you cry. You turn to Bradley with a frown. “You should go,” you say quietly.
Bradley shakes his head. “I’m not leaving.”
“You heard her!” Steven yells, lunging forward to give Bradley yet another push.
But Bradley completely ignores the attack. He continues watching you miserably as though he hasn’t just been unceremoniously displaced by an angry meathead. “You don’t want me to go,” he pleads with you.
You drop your head, closing your eyes. “I do,” you lie.
“It doesn’t matter what she wants,” Steven steps in between the two of you obnoxiously.
“Steven, for fuck’s sake, just leave!” you scream.
Steven rounds on you aggressively. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful cunt!”
But before you can respond with a few choice words of your own, Steven is yanked from the spot and launched into the lake like a frisbee. You gasp as he hits the water while Bradley just folds his arms and watches the ripples, waiting to see if Steven can swim.
…
“He tried breaking up with her,” Jake says, watching you cautiously as though he’s unsure whether he should be sharing this information with you.
You furrow your eyebrows. “When?”
Jake sighs and adjusts his posture, getting more comfortable in his seat. “They were on the rocks way before you came into the picture,” Jake says. “He’d tried breaking up with her several times actually, including the night he met you.”
“What do you mean ‘tried’?”
Jake narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t he tell you this?”
“Tell me what?”
…
“Are you happy now?” you yell over the lapping of the water.
Bradley turns to look at you wearily. “Less annoyed,” he says stoically.
“Well, now that we’ve managed to completely ruin my sister’s brunch,” you say, glancing up at the crowd of spectators gathered on the edge of the patio, “you’re free to go.”
You hear some sputtering near the dock as Steven tries to drag himself out of the water. Bradley nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve told you about her,” he says. “I would’ve told you everything.”
…
“She wouldn’t let him break up with her,” Jake says, carefully studying your reaction.
“What do you mean ‘wouldn’t let him’?” you ask.
“Pour another round,” Jake says.
You sigh sharply. “Just spill it, Seresin,” you grumble impatiently, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.
“She threatened to hurt herself.”
You freeze mid-pour and look up at him in shock.
“That’s enough for me, thanks,” he says, reaching for the bottle still tipped in your hand.
“I’ll have it then,” you say, sliding the full glass of whiskey toward yourself. Silently, you lift it to your lips and take a giant gulp.
“Easy,” Jake says with a cringe, pulling the tumbler out of your hand.
“So,” you breathe, staring blankly at the bar. “He was stuck.”
“He was stuck,” Jake confirms.
…
“I’m stuck!” Steven calls from the end of the dock.
You huff in frustration and give Bradley one last menacing look. “Just go already, will you?” you say tiredly, heading out onto the dock to help Steven out of the water. By the time Steven is on land and you turn around, Bradley is gone.
You glance over at the terrace where the crowd has started to disperse while Steven wrings out his clothes. You consider for a moment running after Bradley; catching him before he packs to leave. But then you feel Steven’s cold hands snaking around your midriff and you squirm.
“What are you doing?” you yelp, jerking away.
“Baby, just admit that you want me back,” he says lazily. “I just saved you from that asswipe. Don’t be a bitch now.”
You turn around in outrage and, just as Steven flashes his phoney grin, you push him back into the lake.
…
“So, how was he finally able to do it?” you ask, plopping a couple of ice cubes into your drink.
“He got lucky,” Jake replies. “He caught her cheating.”
You scoff. “Lucky.”
Jake shrugs. “Well, under the circumstances. He just wanted out.”
You stare at the ice melting in your whiskey. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”
“Did you give him a chance?” Jake asks, gulping down the rest of his drink and rising from his seat.
You look up at him guiltily.
Jake clears his throat and places several bills on the bar. He taps on the counter a couple of times with his palm and then says, “He’s distracted in the air, Y/N. I’m worried about him.”
It makes you sick to think of Bradley unfocused in the cockpit, and you’re repulsed that it’s never occurred to you before, considering how often you daydream about the events of that unfortunate weekend. Of course, he’s been thinking about it. Of course, it’s been distracting him. You close your eyes and lower your head.
“Just talk to him, will ya?” Jake says.
You swallow uneasily, wondering what the fuck you could possibly say to Bradley after having completely blown him off, but you nod anyway. The least you could do is apologize.
After Jake leaves, you notice a folded piece of paper together with the bills he’s left behind. You pick it up to examine it. It’s your list – the one you’d given Bradley so that he could learn to be a more convincing fake boyfriend. You unfold it to find that he’s added his own notes to accompany yours. Things like, ‘this is absurd and you know it’ in response to ‘I don’t like chocolates but I love chocolate cake’ and ‘sounds like somebody else I know’ in response to ‘steer clear of Aunt Barb – she’s very pushy’.
You smile grimly, realizing how badly you’ve fucked up.
…
The next morning, you get permission from Penny’s boyfriend, Maverick, to visit the hangar while the squad trains. You’re sitting at one of the desks, listening to the boom of military aircraft as you nervously twiddle your thumbs in your lap. When you hear the unmistakable yelps of excited pilots just outside the hangar, you let out an anxious sigh and stand up.
As you’re rising from your seat, you see Bradley amidst the group of cheerful aviators, smiling and nodding as one of them claps him on the back. When he notices you, however, his smile falters and he slows to a halt, staring at you in disbelief. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and a chute bag slung over his shoulder and you realize that you’ve never seen him in his flight suit and that perhaps, if you had, you’d have fallen for him much sooner.
The other aviators look on as he starts removing his gear while walking toward you. The expression on his face is so intense that your already galloping heart feels like it might spring right out of your body. He sets his helmet down on a desk and approaches you slowly, his dark eyes searching yours carefully.
You gulp uneasily when he nears; the relief of having him stand right before you is something you hadn’t expected. Even given the currently ambiguous status of your relationship, being close to him feels right.
“Uh,” you utter. Good strong start. You close your eyes and try again. “Umm.” You shake your head and blink up at him.
Bradley lifts his eyebrows sympathetically but doesn’t say anything.
“Can I talk to you?” you blurt out breathlessly.
Bradley drops his gaze and your heart sinks. He hates you, obviously, and you’re an idiot for coming. But a moment later, he looks up from under his winkled brows and nods.
He places a couple of fingers on your arm and, as you try to suppress a shudder at the subtle contact, he nudges you softly, leading you toward the back of the hangar where you could have a private conversation behind a couple of parked jets undergoing maintenance.
Once you’re alone, you find it hard to look him in the eye. Bradley’s hand drops away from where he’s holding your elbow, but his fingertips trail down your arm and catch briefly on your fingers before he lets go.
“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.
Bradley moves closer, his head so low that you can feel his breath on your cheek. The torment of being this close and not touching him is probably exactly what you deserve, so you decide to suffer through it in silence. Until, that is, he brings a hand up, lifting your chin with a couple of fingers. His eyes glance over your face before meeting your gaze. “Let’s just start over,” he says.
You look at him in wonder as his hand glides up your arm. “How?” you whisper. “I’m already in love with you.”
For a moment, Bradley is completely still, watching you intently. The look of sheer want on his face absolutely paralyzes you because the concept of mutual desire where Bradley is concerned is something you’re still struggling to accept. You blink at him mutely, forgetting altogether that you came here to apologize, not ogle him in his flight suit and mentally undress him without a moment’s respite.
Bradley lowers his face, furrowing his eyebrows as he glances down at your lips. You notice the tightening grip on your arm as his breathing grows heavy; the slight incline of his head as his other hand drifts weightlessly up the back of your neck.
He makes you weak and he muddles your thoughts and how could you possibly be expected to remember something as superfluous as an apology when his eyes are begging you to just kiss him already? You let out a breathy whine, twisting your hands into the material of his flight suit and pulling yourself into him until your lips meet his.
Bradley exhales sharply, bringing his hands up to your face as he steps forward. You let him steer you into the wall in behind, clinging onto his wrists as he cups your cheeks. His tongue pushes into your mouth as his hands drop down to your waist and slip underneath your tank top, squeezing your flesh.
You melt into his touch; you want his hands all over you, clutching you, catching you, holding you. A soft moan travels from your mouth into his as his fingers dig into your body, and he presses you into the wall with a shaky sigh.
“Bradley,” you murmur as he grasps your ribcage.
“Baby,” he breathes, his thumbs gently stroking the band of your bra. His ‘baby’ is so soft, so different than Steven’s, it’s like an entirely new word. And you don’t want anybody other than Bradley to ever call you ‘baby’ again.
“Bradley, I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I wouldn’t listen to your side of the story.”
“Baby,” he mutters again. He lifts his eyes to look at you achingly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.” He takes your hands and brings them to his lips, holding them against his mouth. “I don’t care about anything else.”
You smile at him, grateful that he isn’t holding a grudge. “Kiss me again,” you say, pulling on the collar of his flight suit.
Bradley grins, towering over you as he brings his arms above your head and around your back. He kisses you gently this time, like he’s finally confident that you won’t vanish the moment he lets go. It’s warm and sensuous and lingering, it’s his lips pausing to appreciate every taste and every breath and every texture. It’s the rhythm of his tongue, excruciatingly slow, searching for ways to make you moan.
He pulls you closer, tighter; holds you firmer. You sigh into his mouth, you whine for more, you claw into the fabric of his suit. He reciprocates your urgency, driving you back into the wall with force and pressing his mouth hungrily to yours. You gasp, throwing your head back as his messy kisses trail down your neck, as his hands grope every part of you with fervor until you’re almost too weak to stand.
“Y/N,” he pants into your neck. “If we don’t relocate in the next few minutes, I’m going to end up being dishonorably discharged for indecent exposure.”
You giggle as he kisses you repeatedly along your collarbone. You would like nothing more than to relocate so that the two of you can be indecent together. “It’ll have to wait,” you say, stroking his hair as he growls in response.
“I’m not waiting any longer,” he mutters into your neck.
You laugh and shake you head.
“Come home with me. I just need a minute to grab my things.” He pulls insistently on your waist.
“I’ve got work,” you say mournfully. “My shift starts in half an hour.”
Bradley looks at you in alarm, as though the prospect of spending the next several hours apart is unacceptable. “Take the day off.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Sure, you can. Tell Penny you’re feeling sick.”
“I’m not feeling sick,” you respond disapprovingly.
He squints his eyes at you with a mischievous smirk. “Fake it.”
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Muah!
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Punished Part 2
The very highly anticipated part 2 to my punished blurb I wrote randomly last week! Thank you all so much for the support and love! I was not expecting this story to take off!
Also the first two paragraphs are from part 1 if they seem familiar!
18+ MDNI
CW: [f masturbation, m masturbation, slight throat grasping, p in v unprotected sex, restraint play, blindfolds, sensory play, oral f receiving, edging, pull out method, slightly dom Noah, slightly dom reader, slightly mean Noah, mentions of sex toys, mentions of squirting]
He waited a moment before moving his gaze to me. The expression on his face was cocky, there was no remorse in those eyes from the incident he just pulled. He simply grabbed a t-shirt and wiped himself off, getting up to go about his day.
Before he stepped outside the bedroom door, he turned and said, "If you touch yourself, I will do that again later. If you use your vibrator I will do that every day for the rest of the week, then you'll miss me," He said before walking away leaving me in practically a puddle of my own mess and tears.
*Later that day*
The soft hum of my vibrator was the only sound in our large airy bedroom. There was a slick sweat that coated my entire body. My hips were moving in rhythm, coming off the bed so I could get the most pressure on my clit. Noah had left the house for the afternoon to work on some fancy drum engineering stuff with Matt and Folio. This provided the perfect opportunity to finally get the release I needed.
The entire day sucked. Noah was extremely arrogant and moody all day. I knew this could only mean he was having a hard time with a new song. Although he had done a lot of work in therapy, these mood swings still came out. I didn't mind the mood swings occasionally, usually they led to really hot sex with Noah. Not today I guess...
The pleasure building throughout my pelvis started to become more intense at the thoughts of Noah throwing me around bed. I focused on this one particular time where Noah fucked me so hard I squirted all over him, making a huge mess. We ended up laughing about it for weeks afterwards. To this day I swear I actually peed, but he reassured me that was not the case.
Finally, my orgasm was right on the cusp. I continued the same swirl pattern on my clit allowing myself to go over the edge. I moaned so loudly; all the tension from earlier pouring out of me in waves of ecstasy. Fuck Noah and his stupid fucking rule, if I want to cum I will.
After my orgasm finished I set my vibrator back in the nightstand drawer, remade the bed, and took a quick shower. There would be no evidence for Noah to find.
When Noah came home, he was still a little off but seemed a lot happier. They must have cooked up something real good in the studio. I had no doubt Matt and Folio wrote some insane drum parts for the next album.
"What did you get up to today?" Noah asked quizzically, raising one eyebrow. It took all my energy to keep my cheeks from heating when he asked. I felt bad about lying but I could not deal with watching Noah get off once again without me.
"I just spent the day watching shows, and I did a bit of cleaning," I said casually. It wasn't a lie at all, I had cleaned the house and watched a few episodes of Attack On Titan.
"Interesting," Noah said slowly.
"Interesting indeed," I mimicked his tone.
With that Noah got off the couch and proceeded down the hallway towards our bedroom. I raced to follow his long strides, almost running into him as he stopped at my nightstand right inside the door.
"Are you sure you just cleaned and watched shows?" Noah asked as he opened the drawer to inspect the many toys I had.
"Yes I am sure," I said quietly.
"Try again... this time, don't lie," Noah said as he selected the very vibrator I had used earlier.
I had made one fatal error, I did not clean it off.
"Noah I..." but I was cut off by the a loud sniff. I watched as Noah ran his nose up the entire length of the vibrator, inhaling the now dried arousal I had produced earlier.
"You think I wouldn't recognize the smell of your pussy, y/n?" Noah said placing the vibrator down in the drawer. He turned slowly towards me, his height and muscular frame becoming menacing as the light faded away with the setting sun.
"What did I tell you earlier?" he said taking a step towards me, firmly grasping my throat with his hand. He wasn't cutting off my airway, he knew that was one thing that really scared me, but he knew his grasp could control anything I did.
"Noah, please. I can't watch you jerk off again. It drove me insane. Please, I'll do anything... please just please," I said stifling the sob that was coming up my throat.
"Tskk, y/n that wasn't part of the deal now was it love?" Noah said.
He kept one hand wrapped around my throat while he used the other to slowly pull down his pants. My eyes widened as I watched his cock spring free, already half hard just from the thought of me masturbating. A win is a win I suppose.
I looked up at Noah's eyes, they were pitch black in the dark room. He smirked at me as he leaned down and spit in his hand. My pussy almost flooded the entire room. The fucker knew how much I loved spit. His hand now started slowly moving up and down his cock, the only sound in the room was his saliva smacking as he rubbed.
His eyes rolled back slightly as he let his head hang, he seemed to have been waiting for another release all day. The mere thought he tortured me turned him on. God, I fucking hated him.
"Noah, I will literally get on my knees and beg right now. I cannot do this again," I said urgently as I noticed his pace quickened by the sound of his hand moving back and forth.
His hand let up slightly on my throat, I wasn't sure if it was from my pleads or because he was so turned on he was already falling apart. I used this opportunity to slip from his grasp, jumping into him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, legs around his waist.
Noah stumbled slightly backwards but maintained his balance as I literally attacked him. My mouth was on his before he could protest, our lips colliding with such force I was concerned I knocked a tooth out. I kissed him so deeply, forcing my tongue into his mouth to explore every inch. His tongue battled mine, trying to push mine away with no prevail. His arms snaked around me, resting just above my ass. I had him.
I ground my hips against his cock, the angle allowing me to rub my pussy up his length. I moved at an agonizing pace which earned a few frustrated huffs from Noah's mouth into mine.
Next thing I knew my back was against the bedroom wall, Noah now matching my hip thrusts with his own. His precum leaked all over my body, coating me in a sticky mess. Oh my god was I turned on.
I pulled away slightly, grabbing Noah's ear lob between my teeth. I whispered in a low sensual voice, "Fuck me like the naughty girl I am, Noah".
His cock slammed into me. Hard. I don't even know how it happened, I didn't remember him lining himself with my pussy.
The dark room now filled with the sounds of our skin slapping, us moaning, and my back pounding against the wall. He thrusted so hard I could barely even think, reaching the deepest part of my core.
I let my head fall back, smiling to myself as I knew I had won. Or had I?
Noah moved us to the bed, laying me in the mass of pillows that we had. We were often a little freaky in the bedroom. We had restraints already attached to the posts of our bed, awaiting to be used when Noah and I wanted.
Noah's cock left me while he moved to tie me to the bed. The Velcro cuffs were comfortable around my wrists and ankles. What I wasn't expecting was the sleep mask Noah placed around my head and over my eyes.
I couldn't move and I could not see, a dangerous game to play with a man who loved control.
My senses heightened as the anticipation did, I could feel the bed move but I had no idea where Noah was.
One finger. One finger trailed slowly from my ankle all the way up to my chin. He moved his finger as light as a feather, a trail of goosebumps following in its wake. My clit was practically screaming to be touched as another finger moved over my body, then three fingers fanned their way up. All purposely missing the one place I wanted to be touched. He didn't even give me a nipple touch.
One little kiss. One little soft kiss full of love was placed on my hip. Then another soft kiss on the other hip. One on my stomach. One on my right forearm, then the left. A soft kiss placed on my chin, forehead, right cheek, left. Then Noah softly brushed over my lips with his, a kiss that sent electricity throughout my body as it had the very first time he kissed me.
"I love you, Noah," I whispered out into the room, unsure where he was.
"I love you more," He replied as his finger lightly brushed over my pussy. He didn't apply enough pressure to breakthrough my folds, which was frustrating. My back arched slightly, seeking out his finger again. Instead I was met with hot breath, and one very wet tongue. Noah licked me this time, again he did so very lightly.
He pulled away, lifting one leg with him and placing it over his shoulder. He moved the other on his shoulder. Based on the position I was in, he must have been bent low on the bed or the restraints were let out enough to accommodate.
Teeth. I felt teeth next taking a small bite of my left inner thigh. It was only inches away from my pussy. He took another bite on my right inner thigh. Then he moved back to the other, inching slightly towards my center. Another, then another, then another, then... oh my god!!!
Noah took a small bite and pulled my clit with his teeth. It was hard enough to evoke shock throughout my entire body. It hurt, yet was quite satisfying. I felt my pussy clench around nothing, desperately wanting to be filled again by Noah's cock.
Noah released my clit, then brought his tongue back into the equation by spreading my folds open. His tongue was met with his lips, as he began licking and sucking my entire being. Now my hips began to move again, desperately seeking a release that I needed once again. Noah now moved lower, tongue fucking my pussy expertly by hooking it just inside. He pulled away only to spit on me, acting like his glorious meal was filth. Jesus, I couldn't take this any longer.
My moans began to get louder and louder, and so did the sounds coming from my pussy. The pleasure was now dimly burned in my lower belly, I could feel my toes begin to curl in the restraints.
"Noah, please.... I need to feel you inside... please," I whined desperately.
My legs were off his shoulders, my butt was back on the bed again.
Cock. I felt the head of his cock slowly moving up and down between my folds, doing slow circles around my clit before going back down. He slightly pressed in, just breaking through my entrance before moving back upwards. I moved my hips towards Noah's cock, moving against him to create more friction. He pulled away.
A few moments later he was back, moving slowly up and down again.
"Do you want it?" he cockily said as if he didn't already know the answer. I could hear his stupid smile from where my head rested. As if to prove his point, he put the entire tip in and thrusted only the tip which drove me insane. He pulled out asking again, by emphasizing every word he said, "Y/n, do... you... want.... it?"
"Do you want it?" I threw back, lifting my hips towards where I believed he was sitting. I giggled slightly, knowing I was being a brat and that I drove him crazy.
He chuckled back, "You really are such a naughty girl aren't you? Luckily you have such a pretty pussy".
His cock entered me again, but this time he went in all the way. I had no time to adjust to him before he was slamming into me once again. His arms were wrapped under my thighs, lifting me to the perfect angle. This time I knew he was just as needy as I was, his cock throbbed.
Noah grunted as he picked up the pace even more, his new workout regiment allowed him to have more stamina than ever. He was able to thrust harder and faster for longer. My moans once again filled the room in sync with his. I could hear the sound of our skin slapping against one another. He squeezed my thighs with his hands to keep from loosing grip, we both were coated in sweat now.
"Noah...." I warned, he knew I was close. My pussy was pulsing and throbbing, my orgasm was built up to the max.
"I know," he breathed back.
Suddenly, he was over me completely and his lips were grazing my ear. His moans filled my ears, sending me into a sensory overload as I plunged over. My orgasm came fast, I screamed out Noah's name which I knew probably hurt his ear. He road me through my orgasm for a few seconds before he pulled out. His cum sprayed all over my stomach and lower boobs. I felt each string as it landed on me. I had wished I could see it, but just feeling him release on me was enough. This was a punishment after all.
Once we both were done, Noah plopped on top of me creating even more of a mess for us to clean up.
"You do a great job at making rules and an even better job with your punishments," I laughed into the top of his head, rubbing it in that his punishment was indeed not sufficient for the crime.
"Yeah, yeah," he moaned into the crook of my neck.
I smiled to myself as Noah dozed off, until I realized he fell asleep on me and I couldn't move.
I suppose an impending uti was punishment indeed...
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I hope you all enjoyed! I little different than I intended to write it but this just came to me and I think it works :)
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian smut#nick folio#nicholas ruffilo#jolly karlsson#bad omens smut
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heyyy ;))
i was hoping to request maybe a really juicy smut story? larissa wears a strap on (or g!p😋) where maybe larissa face f*cks the reader, degrading her with the filthiest things, praising her, maybe at the beginning, larissa seduces the reader? add as much as you want!
Heyyy @mxmmyviolet !! Thanks for the request! I’d love to write this for you 🤭 Hope you Enjoy ♥️
Mere Thought of You ~Larissa Weems xFem Professor!Reader
Mommy… Master List
Requests & Prompt-List
Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, teasing, seducing, teasing touches, praise, explicit dialogue, implied doggystyle fucking, implied wet dreams, implied overstimulation, implied masturbation, possessiveness, jealousy, degradation kink, praise kink, shapeshifted d!ck, overstimulation, pet names, sucking off, oral (g!p receiving), kissing, begging, begging kink, d!ck riding, implied spanking, spanking kink, more implied smut, aftercare, etc.
Enjoy (;
You had been at Nevermore as a teacher for three months now. And the second Larissa Weems had caught on to your little crush on her, you had become the woman’s plaything.
Normally, the tall principal was reserved and formal. But when you were placed in front of her… a squirming, blushing mess… the woman couldn’t refuse the urge to toy around.
And Larissa would stop in a heartbeat if she thought that it was making you uncomfortable or drawing any negative connotation. But she never got that idea from you. In fact, you seemed to only respond more positively to her antics…
It had all started small with longer glances, light touches, and extra praise. But Larissa wasn’t playing to be easy and nice. No, she was playing dirty. She was playing to seduce.
~~~
It had been sixth months now since you joined the Nevermore staff as a teacher, and there was only one thing on your mind these days…
~~~
“Hope I’m on your mind during the most innapropriate times, Darling…” the blonde purred in your ear, as you walked past her on the way out of the weekly staff meeting.
Your breath hitched and your cheeks blushed fusia as you rushed out of the meeting.
~~~
On the annual teacher review days, you stuttered your way through your classes with Larissa sitting in the back of the classroom. As the last class left for the day the blonde came over to your desk to review her findings with you.
As she got up to leave, she leaned forward and whispered, “Hope you lose focus during conversations, going non-verbal imagining me putting you in all fours, Darling…”
She then leaned back, nodded curtly, and left. Leaving you a flushed, horny mess.
~~~
On a Saturday morning, you were in the courtyard, enjoying your book when the blonde principal came up behind you.
“Oh, What are you reading, Darling…?” She purred.
Your eyes widened at the sultry voice of the tall woman. Larissa then came up right behind you, bending down do that her lips were ghosting the shell of your ear.
“Cat got your tongue…?” She playfully purred.
“I… Dickens—!” You chocked out.
At this, Larissa hummed in approval.
“Hope you dream with my voice calling out your name, Darling…” she husked, before standing back up and walking away as if nothing had happened.
~~~
You were prone to insomnia episodes, which sometimes left you in the teachers kitchen at 2am on a Friday. No one else was usually ever there.
Usually.
Except today, when you walked into the lounge to make some tea, you found a certain tall blonde already warming the kettle. As your gaze met hers, she smiled lightly and nodded in recognition of your presence.
“Can’t sleep?” she asked with her hypnotic british accent.
You simply nodded.
Words had gone out the door as you had walked in.
She kindly poured your cup of tea and then hers. Walking past you, her arm lightly brushed yours and her lips brushed the shell of your ear,
“Hope you cum multiple times thinking of me, Darling…” she hummed.
You gulped, scurrying back to your quarters.
~~~
But what really did it for you was at the Poe Cup…
You’d gone out to watch the games and to support your students. But the entire time, all you could focus on was Larissa. And her interactions with a colleague of yours, Marilyn. It was obviously flirtatious. And it made your skin crawl.
Why…? You weren’t jealous, we’re you…?
You left the Poe Cup, walking back up to the school, in a bad mood. And as you walked up the path, the tall blonde brushed your shoulder ever so slightly…
“Hope you salivate and yearn and groan in frustration for not having me as yours…” She purred in a hushed tone.
Fuck. This woman had you in a chokehold…
And you had had enough.
~~~
You rapped on Larissa’s door with intent. When you heard her voice, you entered and slammed the door behind you. But now as you were standing in front of the tall goddess, you lost all words and trains of thought.
“Why Hello, Darling…” Larissa purred, looking up from her work, “Why don’t you take a seat?”
You gulped and nodded, sitting down.
“What can I help you with…?” She purred.
You took a deep breath.
“I… I’m done with whatever this is… or isn’t…” you stuttered, looking everywhere but the blonde’s eyes.
At this, Larissa got up from her chair and loomed over you, grabbing your chin for you to look at her and invading all your personal space. Your eyes widened as blush crept up your cheeks.
“Oh, you’re done are you…?” She taunted.
Your breathing was erratic as you nodded shakily.
“I want to hear you say it, Darling…” She lustfully husked, “Or… You can get down on your knees…”
You immediately dropped to your knees, looking up at the blonde for further instruction.
“That’s what I thought…” Larissa chuckled.
Larissa then elegantly removed her skirt and the bulge behind her knickers became apparently present to you. Your face turned tomato red. She then removed her knickers to reveal her hardened, pre-cum leaking dick.
Fuck, she was massive…
“Oh that’s right…” Larissa tauntingly purred, “I forgot to tell you… I’m a shapeshifter…”
“That’s… hot…” you whimpered.
Larissa chuckled at your dumbfoundness.
“I’ve been trying to get your attention for months now, you know…” she purred, “So why don’t you be a good little slut and suck me off…”
Your breath hitched, the nickname going straight to your core, and you nodded eagerly. Larissa placed on hand behind her on the desk and the other behind your head, as you began to take her member into your mouth. You licked the stripes of salty pre-cum, before taking her in as deep as you could go. The blonde only pushed you further, her hand forcefully bobbing your head up and down on her dick.
“Oh that’s it…” Larissa groaned, her head lolling back, “Taking me like such a whore…”
She pushed your head down even further, causing you to gag slightly.
“Breathe, whore…” She purred wickedly.
You two continued these administrations until Larissa was right on the edge.
“Make me cum, sweet slut…!” Larissa groaned.
Larissa crashed over the edge quickly after that, spurting her hot ropes of cum down your throat. You moaned at the action. When she had finished, the blonde pulled out of your mouth, stuffing all the leaking cum over your face back into your mouth with her fingers.
“Swallow.” She commanded.
You obeyed and swallowed her entire load, looking back up to the blonde with anticipation.
“Good girl…” Larissa purred.
Your breath hitched and your eyes widened.
“Oh, does someone like being praised…?” She taunts.
“Yes…” you whimper, nodding.
The blonde’s eyes sparkled with lust and delight. She then reached down once more to wipe one dribble of her cum still on your chin, then stuffing her finger back in your mouth. You happily sucked it off, returning her digit with a pop!.
“I’ll keep that in mind for next time…” She purred, winking at you.
~~~
You spent the next days with constant slick in between your thighs, not being able to get your mind off that woman.
You walked down the corridors, papers in hand, which you were to deliver to the headmistress. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.
“Come in…!!” Larissa called.
You entered the room, shutting the door behind you. When Larissa looked up from her work, her whole demeanor shifted. She began to put away all her paperwork. Memories of what happened last time you were in this room came flooding back…
“Darling…” she wickedly purred, “Why don’t you come over here to me. I’ll take those papers…”
You treaded over to Larissa’s side of the desk and handed her the paperwork, your gaze fluttered everywhere but to the blondes.
“Good girl…” She cooed, taking and putting away the paperwork.
Larissa’s gaze racked up and down your figure. She then stood up and towered over you. Your eyes widened and finally met her gaze. She had a wicked smirk and fiery eyes. She started walking towards you, and you started to slowly back up, until she had you pinned against the wall. You could feel her breath, she was inches away from you…
“Do you want kiss me, Darling…?” Larissa taunted.
You gulped and nodded.
“Then beg, sweet slut…” she husked in your ear.
Your breath hitched and you could feel your knickers completely wetted through, as your arousal now spread to your thighs.
“Please… please kiss me… fuck me… please please…” you whimpered.
At your words, the blonde smirked and gladly complied, connecting her lips to yours. A breathy moan escaped your throat as you tasted the woman. She then slid her tongue into your wet cavern, eliciting a string of whimpers and moans from your lips, which Larissa happily swallowed.
Her hands began to wander around your figure, teasing you relentlessly. You quickly caught on and began stripping and connecting your lips to hers as much as you could. Your lips were connected until you both needed to breathe, and then you were both breathlessly taking off the rest of each others clothing.
Now you were both breathless and naked informer of each other. Without another word, the woman picked you up, wrapping your legs around her waist. She then carried you to her desk chair, sitting down and having you straddle her in the chair. You instinctually bucked your hips into the blondes growing member. Larissa groaned out at your action.
“Oh you poor, sweet slut, you’re dripping…” Larissa chuckled wickedly.
You whimpered in response, grinding her hips against Larissa’s dick and looking up to the blonde in desperation.
“Please…” you whimpered, giving her your best puppy dog eyes.
At this, Larissa’s eyes shimmered back at you and she smiled. She then lined up her hardened dick with your soaked cunt. Without warning, you sank down on her, letting a guttural moan escape you as she bottomed you out.
“You needy whore…!” Larissa groaned in pleasure , “Need my dick that bad, do you…?”
You began riding her as best as you could. The blonde was quick to stabilize you with her hands on your hips as she started rutting up into you.
“Yes yes yes…!!” You chanted, screwing your eyes shut tight in overwhelming pleasure and holding on to Larissa tightly as she fucked up into you.
~~~
After hours of Larissa having her way with you… You laid, splayed out on the blondes desk, panting heavily. Larissa was gripping the desk, leaning towards you, panting heavily as well.
“Fuck…” you breathed out, smiling and resting your head on the desk.
The office was a mess… Items and clothing scattered everywhere… And it was dark now…
Larissa chuckled lightly. You moved to sit up and winced from the soreness. The woman was quick to come to your aid.
“Slowly, sweet girl…” she cooed.
You ignored the blondes advice and went to stand up, and your legs gave out on you in seconds, causing you to collapse onto the ground. Larissa couldn’t contain her amusement and light giggles.
“I told you…” she chuckled, swiftly helping you up and placing you in her chair,
“Did I fuck you so thoroughly, Darling…?” She teased you lightly.
“Shut up…” you mumbled.
“Darling… Don’t make me spank you…” Larissa teasingly taunted.
Your breath hitched and your eyes widened.
“Sorry—! I’m sorry…”
Larissa smiled lightly and kissed your forehead.
“How about a bath, hmmmm…?” The woman hummed.
~~~
Larissa Weems Masterlist
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Love Letters to Who
Hyunjin x Female reader
Word count: 4.9k
Synopsis: Your 21st birthday you were gifted a mysterious journal. If you thought you were shocked when you saw a reply to your first entry from someone, you just about shit when you saw words appearing on the page out of nowhere, right in front of your eyes! Who was owner of those words? Who was H.H?
A/N: 18+ ONLY! Here's our Hyunjinnie's! Only one more left! But don't fret! I've gotten a lot of really great requests while I've been working on this series and still plan to do a part 2 to Everything in it's Place so there is plenty more to come! Thank you everyone who has followed along! If you enjoy this part please give it a reblog, like, comment, jump in my an ask box, I love hearing from you guys! Thank you again! As always warnings and smut below the cut!
Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, mentions of controlling and toxic behavior/relationship, oral (m&f receiving), cum eating, unprotected piv sex (please use protection), coming inside. I'm pretty sure that's it. The soulmate series has been fairly tame smut wise I feel like but if I missed something, please let me know and I'll add it immediately!
It had been a long day but a great one. It was your twenty-first birthday and your family and friends had been over all day celebrating with you. Finger food, cake, presents, the whole nine yards. All of your friends were gone now, your dad had left and your mom stayed over a bit to help you clean up. Just before she left she walked past the table that all your presents had been on and stopped.
“Oh hey! You missed one!” She grabbed the small gift and handed it to you. You looked for a tag with a name but there was none. You shrugged and ripped it open to find a beautiful leather-bound journal. In the corner there were small gold letters, your initials and H.H. You weren’t sure what that meant but it was a wonderful gift, you loved to journal. Your mom left and you got washed up, in pajamas and in bed. You scrolled around on your phone and made a post thanking everyone for coming and for your gifts.
‘Oh and to whomever got me the journal, it had no name but thank you so much!’ Maybe whoever got it for you will comment. You put your phone on the charger and pulled out the new journal and a fresh pen. You opened it to the first page and wrote the date.
‘Today was my twenty-first birthday. It was wonderful. My friends and family were here and I’m very thankful for all of my gifts. It was almost perfect. It would be nice to have someone to share my evening with. To curl up in bed, laugh and talk, make love, fall asleep holding each other. I guess for now, for me, it’s not meant to be. It just makes me a little sad.’ You signed your initials at the bottom of your entry, closed the journal and set it on your nightstand before laying down and going to sleep.
The next day was back to being like any other. You woke up to your alarm, went for a jog, took a shower, had breakfast and went to work. You worked all day, over your time as usual, and then went home. You made something for dinner which either meant you put something small together or accidentally made a feast. It was hard cooking for one.
You watched a few episodes of a show you’d gotten invested in, then it was time to shower and go to bed to do it all again tomorrow. You crawled into bed and grabbed your new journal to write about any small triumphs or losses during your day. You opened it and you were about to flip to the second page when you noticed writing at the bottom of yesterday's entry that wasn’t yours.
‘Not sure who wrote the first entry. It’s strange that it was their twenty-first birthday today too. That evening does sound like a nice way to end your birthday though. I wouldn’t mind ending my birthday like that too. I’m sorry they had to be sad at all on their special day. I hope they find someone kind to fall in love with so they can have a birthday like that next year. In fact, I’m going to use my birthday wish for them and wish that very thing. Whoever you are, wherever you are. Happy Birthday.’ H.H. You were so fucking confused. Had someone broken into your apartment? Why would they take nothing and write in your journal? You turned to the next page and started writing.
‘I think someone broke into my apartment! Maybe one of my friends? Nothing is missing but someone wrote an entry in my new journal. It was nice but extremely weird. Like I just don’t know why anyone would do that. Everything else about today was totally normal other than that. Maybe I should get some security cameras just to be safe. I should mention it to mom and dad but I don’t want to worry them. I’ll look into cameras tomorrow. Now I feel like the bed will seem bigger and lonelier tonight while I worry about who was in here. Hopefully I’m not gutted in my sleep.’ Your initials signed the entry and you closed the book.
Tuesday was a copy paste day which meant it was exactly like your Monday. You had checked into some cameras, at least for the door and the living room. You were so busy the rest of the day you had forgotten about your journal until you were climbing into bed again. You grabbed it and immediately turned to the second page. Just to see. Just to laugh at yourself for thinking someone broke in just to write a cryptic entry in your new journal. Just to laugh... but you weren’t laughing. There at the bottom of the second page, under your entry from yesterday was the same handwriting and while beautiful you were officially freaked out.
‘Gutted in your sleep?! Jesus Christ! That’s fucking terrifying! I think I have a theory that I plan on checking tonight. If I’m right, I might scream and burn this thing! We’ll see I suppose.’ H.H. You turned to the next page. You wrote the date.
‘I don’t know who the hell keeps-’ You stopped writing when words that were not yours started scribbling across the page out of nowhere. You dropped your pen, slammed the book closed and threw it.
“What the fuck!?” You rubbed your eyes and looked at the journal on the floor across your room. You didn’t just see that. It was a trick of the light or a long day. Yea, it was a long day and you were just seeing things. You were certain when you went and grabbed that book and opened it that it was going to be a page with a date at the top and half a sentence.
You slowly walked over, knelt down, and picked up the journal, then went and sat back down on your bed. You closed your eyes and opened it. You slowly opened them and you were in disbelief. There on the page, in the same writing from the two days before...
‘Do you see this?’ You did, but what were you seeing? More words started appearing.
‘If you are seeing this, please, write back.’ You picked up your pen.
‘I see it.’ You waited and then words started appearing again.
‘Holy shit! Okay so do you need like help crossing?’ You scrunched up your face confused by what they were asking.
‘What do you mean? Crossing what? Like a bridge?’
‘How can I help settle your spirit? Is there a message from beyond that you would like me to pass along to a loved one?’ Oh for fucks sake. They thought you were a ghost.
‘I am not a ghost!’
‘Oh no you didn’t remember that you died! Were you gutted in your sleep?! Oh god I’m so sorry!’ You shook your head and scribbled.
‘No no no. I’m just not dead. Not a ghost.’ There was a long pause before the next words appeared on the page.
‘Are you sure? On a scale of 1-10 how certain are you?’ You pressed your fingers into your eyes taking a deep breath. Be understanding. It was a super crazy situation.
‘I’m sure. 1,000. I’m very much so alive. You said your birthday was the other day too. Did you get a journal?”
‘Yeah. Did you send it? What the hell is going on?!’ Whoever was writing seemed like they were starting to freak out a bit. You tried to calm them down.
‘No I didn’t send it. I’m not sure what’s going on. Let’s try and keep calm. My name is y/n, what’s yours?’
‘I’m Hyunjin. How are you so chill about this? This is the craziest thing that has ever happened to me!’ You weren’t really sure why you weren’t freaking out yourself.
‘I don’t know how to explain it but it doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to be a scary or ominous thing. I don’t understand what’s happening or why but it kind of feels like we were meant to get these books. I don’t know I’m sure that sounds crazy.’ It definitely sounded crazy. You didn’t know this man at all why would you both get some magic book that allows you to write to each other?
‘So what do we do?’ Why in the world was he asking you? You had no idea.
‘I don’t know. I guess only one of us should use it. Since you used your birthday wish for me you take it.’
‘Well wait now. Wishing you well and me keeping some magic journal isn’t exactly a fair trade’
‘Really Hyunjin it’s okay. Besides it’s only a magic book if we both write in it. Enjoy and happy birthday.’ You signed your name, a small heart, then closed the book and put it away on your bookshelf. You grabbed another journal and made an entry in it about the magic journal and Hyunjin and then you went to bed.
For the first few days after, you found yourself looking over at the bookshelf wondering if Hyunjin was using it, tempted to look inside, but you had told him he could use it and that would be invading his privacy, his innermost thoughts and you couldn’t do that. So you left it. About a month after your birthday a guy accidentally bumped into you coming out of the café, making you spill your coffee.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” You looked at the, luckily, iced coffee down the front of you and sighed.
“It’s okay it happens.” You went to walk off and get clothes that were not saturated in bean water when he hurried to stop you.
“Wait uh... I feel terrible really. Let me make it up to you!” You started shaking your head.
“No really it’s not nec-” He put his hands together.
“Please, let me do something... uh... let me take you to dinner?” You stopped surprised. You figured he’d ask to replace the coffee and you were prepared to say no again but he asked about dinner.
“Dinner?” He nodded, smiling.
“Yes! Please! Let me take you to dinner to make up for being such an absolute klutz.” Wow. He was really cute and he seemed nice. Hyunjin had used his birthday wish for you, maybe the universe was putting it into play.
“Okay, dinner.” He smiled ear to ear and gave you his phone number so that you could make the arrangements, after you got out of your wet coffee-stained clothes that is. The cute klutz's name was Ian and the dinner to make up for exploding your coffee on you ended up being the first of many. Weeks, months went by and lots of other firsts came and went. First kiss, first time sleeping together, first Christmas as a couple.
Things started out perfect and you were so happy. Then over a period of time, you started to see another side of Ian. It started with him getting irritable and he’d do little controlling things. They were always so subtle and the way he would suggest something questionable he always made it seem like it should be so reasonable.
You put up with a lot for quite a while but after five months of it, when Ian asked you to move in and you said no, that was the last straw. You’d been at dinner and he’d quietly accepted the no while in the restaurant but once dinner was over and you were in the car, he lost it. He was yelling as he drove recklessly through the streets, narrowly missing a few cars and running multiple red lights.
You were scared he would crash you into someone on purpose out of sheer anger. Somehow you made it to your apartment without wrecking. When he came to a screeching halt out front you immediately got out of the car and bent down looking in mad.
“It’s over Ian. We’re done!” You slammed the car door shut and he started to get out of his car.
“Wait... baby!” The babies were starting and you weren’t waiting. After that car ride and the things he said, you were done. You went inside your apartment and you heard him speed off, his tires chirping. His texts and calls started right after and you just turned your phone off. He’d give up eventually. You laid out on your bed and cried, angry with yourself for letting him fool you, angry for fooling yourself.
Deep down you felt it. It wasn’t right, he wasn’t ever going to be the one no matter what you had tolerated. You knew you did what was best but you still felt the void it left too. For the first time in six months, you went over to your bookshelf that you kept the journal on and grabbed it.
You walked back over to your bed and sat down with your legs crossed and the book in your hands. You sat there looking at it for a good while. You just needed to pour your heart out and you could do that in any one of your journals but you wanted to do it in this one. You flipped to the first blank page you found and started writing.
‘I didn’t read any of your entries I promise. I just had to...I don’t know what I thought. I guess I thought your wish had come true. I met a guy and I thought the wish really came true, but it ended up being a horrible mistake. I think about you all the time. I don’t know why when we only wrote each other the one time and I know this might be strange to say but I miss you.’ You signed your name and a heart and closed the journal putting it on your nightstand, then went to sleep.
The next morning you woke up and your eyes were immediately on the journal when they opened. You sat up and grabbed it but hesitated to open it. What if he didn’t write back? What if he was mad that you wrote in it again when you said you wouldn’t? What if he thought it was weird that you said you missed him? How can you miss a guy you don’t even know?
You took a deep breath and opened the book to the last page you had written on. There underneath your entry was Hyunjin’s beautiful handwriting and you could feel a weight lifting off your chest.
‘He didn’t hurt you did he?! I’m so sorry it didn’t come true. If I’m being honest, I miss you too and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I don’t know why I can’t get you out of my head when I don’t even know you. Go to the page after our last conversation and start reading the entries.’ H.H. He wanted you to read his journal entries? You were confused. You went to the page he told you and started reading.
‘It’s been a few days. I’ve opened the book here and there to see if maybe you had written something. I don’t know, I feel like if I'm not using it for its intended purpose then I shouldn’t use it and its purpose was for me to write you. I don’t know why. I hope you’re doing well wherever you are and I hope one day you open your book and see this. Until then I’ll write to you.’ You turned the page and there was the next entry.
Hyunjin telling you about his day, and then questions about things he wished he knew about you with space left beneath for your answers. He would tell you his answers as well, his likes and dislikes. You went through, day after day, it was all always written to you.
Poems he’d read, work he’d finished, random silly things about his days that usually made you laugh and then questions. You read every page, answered every question and by the time you got to where you had written again you felt like you had known Hyunjin your whole life. You looked at the last words Hyunjin had written on the page.
‘I think we should meet.’ Your heart skipped a beat and you started to panic. Meet?! It seemed so sudden, so fast. You had only just ended things with Ian but something was drawing you and Hyunjin to each other and not just the journals. You decided there was no use fighting it.
‘When? Where?’ Hyunjin told you to meet him Sunday at eleven at the café by the park. You would get coffee, go for a walk, and talk.
‘How will I know it’s you?’ Hyunjin thought for a minute.
‘I’ll wear my hair pulled back.’ Sunday was only a day away. You panicked most of Saturday and rifled through your whole closet deciding what to wear. You decided on nice but casual, you picked a wide necked oversized sweater and a tank top with some jeans and tennis shoes.
Sunday you were walking up to the café when you saw a guy sitting at an outdoor table reading a book. He was hands down the most beautiful person you’d ever laid eyes on. Two beauty marks adorned his face, one on his cheek, the other under an eye, he had lips that looked pillowy soft, and long blonde hair pulled back. There was no way that was Hyunjin, but what were the chances of two guys with long hair pulled back showing up at the café at the same time. You slowly walked up ready to make an ass out of yourself when you realized it wasn’t him.
“Uh... Hyunjin?” The man looked up from his book and his eyes locked on you. His mouth was slightly opened and he didn’t say anything at first. You just stood there, you didn’t know if it was him or not. Finally the man shook his head and smiled at you.
“Yes! Sorry! Yes, I'm Hyunjin. You must be y/n.” He stood and leaned in to hug you as you put out your hand, then you leaned in to hug him and he stuck his hand out. You both laughed and leaned in for a little hug then you joined him at the table he’d been sitting at.
“What would you like? I’ll go order it for you.” You gave Hyunjin your order and he went inside to get your coffee. You pinched yourself as you sat there waiting to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The man that penned at least a hundred and fifty-three pages, written to you, was not only intelligent and kindhearted he was also insanely gorgeous.
It only took Hyunjin a couple minutes to get your coffee. When he came back he sat across from you and set your drink down. You had a little small talk as you sat there and you were nervous. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but you were.
“Do you want to go on a walk in the park?” You weren’t sure if he was picking up on your energy but a walk sounded perfect.
“I’d like that.” Hyunjin put his book in his messenger bag and hung it around himself. You both grabbed your coffees and took the path that led to the flower garden in the park. As you walked around you were able to calm down a little and it was easier to talk as you both admired the flowers.
You got quiet when, part of the way through, Hyunjin’s fingers wove through yours and he held your hand as you continued to walk along the path. After a minute he stopped and faced you. God he was beautiful and with the flowers and the perfect weather he looked ethereal.
“y/n I want to say something but I don’t want to freak you out.” You nodded.
“Okay, just so you know if you’re trying to not freak me out, saying that is not a great start.” Hyunjin laughed nervously.
“I suppose not.” You grabbed his other hand and squeezed them both gently.
“Go ahead Hyunjin, I’m just teasing. It’s okay.” He took a deep breath.
“I... I think we might be soulmates.” You wanted to act shocked. You wanted it to be a startling hypothesis, but it wasn’t. In fact, as soon as he said it you felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner but not everyone has a soulmate.
“Oh my god! Of course!” He breathed a sigh of relief hearing you agree. He was worried you might not believe him, that you might reject him. He also didn’t want you to think that just because you were soulmates you had to rush anything. There was still so much to learn about each other.
You both were so caught up in the moment you didn’t notice the grey clouds making their way in. Then suddenly the sky opened up and it started to pour down rain. Hyunjin gripped your hand tighter and ran for the closest building with an awning. You were both soaked laughing, you looked up at him and saw stray wet hairs stuck to his face. You pushed them back, your fingers tracing his skin and your eyes watched as his tongue darted across his pouty lips.
You couldn’t take it anymore. You stood on your toes, wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him under that awning in the rain. Then Hyunjin wrapped his arms around you and kissed you back. It was like fireworks were going off. It was so different than your first kiss with Ian. That first kiss with Ian was when you knew it wasn’t right that he wasn’t the one, but your first kiss with Hyunjin? Felt like coming home.
On your and Hyunjin’s twenty second birthday you spent your shared day with both your families and friends. When the day was over and everyone had left, you laid in bed together, laughing as Hyunjin dramatically recalled how he reacted to the entry you had written about hoping to not be gutted. You laid your head on his chest and as your laughter died down you could hear his heart thumping. Without a word you sat up and climbed on top of Hyunjin straddling his waist, then leaned over and kissed him. Your lips parted from his only enough to speak.
“Happy birthday Hyunjinnie.” You kissed him again and he held your face as he deepened it. He pulled away breathless.
“Happy birthday baby.” He kissed you again and started running his hands down your body. They traveled under your night shirt and he gripped your soft breasts as his tongue explored your mouth. You sat up quickly pulling the shirt off over your head and then leaned back down and claimed Hyunjin’s lips again.
You started pulling his shirt up and your lips left his long enough to pull it off. You were grinding your hips into Hyunjin’s, hands gripping each other, teeth biting, tongues tasting. Hyunjin sat up wrapping his arms around you and then suddenly you were on your back under him. He pulled down his sweatpants and kicked them off as he reached into your panties and started teasing your clit with two fingers.
“So wet for me already?” You pushed at him.
“Hyunjinahh! Don’t tease!” He smiled before kissing down your neck and shoulder, the two fingers still gently rubbing your arousal over the sensitive nerves.
“No teasing tonight baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” He kissed down your chest and started sucking on your breasts. You wove your fingers through his hair as he kissed and sucked at your nipples. You moaned when the two fingers he had been rubbing you with slid inside you.
Hyunjin made his way down your body as he fingered you and when his face hovered over your clothed core you thought you might lose your mind at the sight of him. He pulled your panties to the side and when he started to eat you out you gripped his hair again, tighter.
“Jinnie! God yes! Right there!” Hyunjin pumped his fingers into you and licked your clit before kissing it.
“Right there jagiya?” He started sucking on your clit and you aggressively shook your head.
“YES! FUCK YES!” Hyunjin took his time. He’d mapped your body out countless times now and he knew how to drive you to the brink of madness from pleasure alone and he was going to do just that. His fingers worked inside you brushing against your g spot as he continued to lick and suck on your clit you could feel the building climax inside you.
“Please... please... please...” You plead with Hyunjin needing the release you were desperately close to. His pillowy soft lips latched around your clit again and when he hummed against you, you went plummeting into your orgasm.
“Hyu-Hyun-Hyunjinnie! Oh my god! Yesyesyes!” Your hips tried to grind up against his face but his strong hands held you down as he continued to guide you through your climax. He gently took long slow licks up your glistening cunt as you started twitching from the overstimulation.
He gave your pussy one last soft kiss and then climbed back up towards your face, your lips. His pressed against yours, so plush, as the fog in your head started to lift. You started sitting up prompting Hyunjin to as well, although he wouldn’t stop kissing you. He loved the way you tasted. Your skin, your lips, your cunt, he could never get enough.
You guided him to sit back against the headboard, his legs spread. Your lips only left his to leave a wet trail of kisses down Hyunjin’s neck and chest. His fingers threaded through your hair as you made your way down his body. When your lips hovered over his throbbing cock you looked up at him, licking your lips. He couldn’t help the shuddering breath he took at the sight of you between his legs. He gently traced his fingers down your face, biting his lip.
“Please baby... suck on it.” You nodded smiling and put the tip in your mouth, running your tongue around it and sucking like Hyunjin had asked of you. He moaned and pulled your hair up into a ponytail with his hands so he could see as you started to work your way further down his shaft. When you gagged on him, you pulled off stroking him, looking into his eyes, watching them glint from the pleasure you were giving him.
“I want you to cum in my mouth Jinnie.” His jaw dropped surprised to hear you say that. He’d never done that before.
“I... are you sure?” You licked your lips looking at him and nodded. Hyunjin nodded back and you started sucking his dick again. You bobbed up and down, using your spit to stroke what you couldn’t fit. His tip kept pressing against the back of your throat and Hyunjin thought he would lose his mind it felt so good. His breath came faster as his stomach sucked in and out.
“Fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You hummed giving your permission again to cum in your mouth and the vibrations from your lips pushed him over the edge. He whimpered and his body stiffened, as well as his grip on your hair as he started to spill into your mouth.
“Oh god! Oh fuck! Jagiya mmmm!” His head thumped back against the headboard as you drank down every drop of his cum. You licked the tip one last time and looked up at his fucked-out face, head tilted back. He took another deep breath and looked down at you again.
When he saw that sweet face of yours, his heart melted. He was yours. Always. He loved you so much. He pulled you to sit in his lap and he held your face as he kissed you. You sat there like that for who knew how long. Arms wrapped around each other, slowly, softly kissing.
After making out a while, you slid your panties off, leaned forward and gripped Hyunjin’s cock, pushing it inside you. You both held on to the other, moaning as he filled you. You slowly started working your hips against his as you looked into each other’s eyes. It was so intimate, so sensual.
“I love you Hyunjin.” He kissed you and every time he kissed you it felt just like the first, fireworks. He pressed his forehead to yours as you continued riding him.
“I love you too y/n, I love you so much...” He held you as your bodies pressed and rubbed together, sweaty, hot. You made love like that for what felt like forever, for what felt like would never be long enough. You both were holding the others face, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on their love, their forever, as you came together.
Tears streaked your face as your trembled through your climax, Hyunjin’s warm cum filling you. He wiped your tears and hugged you closely. You rested your head on his shoulder as Hyunjin softened inside you, both of you basking in the warmth of the other. When heartbeats and breathing returned to normal you curled up together in bed. Hyunjin’s birthday wish for you had come true after all, in ways he never had imagined.
Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!
@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @jisuperboard @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @svintsandghosts @the-sweetest-rose @alice630 @3rachasninja @m0ri-apeuda @eastleighsblog @linoification @mlink64 @smally97 @fun-fanfics @chansducky10 @starfire21 @cessixja @siewoon @berryberrytan @binnies-minsung-fanclub @lethallyprotected
#stray kids smut#skz smut#hwang hyunjin smut#hyunjin smut#skz317cb97#cal 🖤#skz317cb97 soulmate au series
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irritating interests
in which; a rivalry becomes a romance
requested by @phxntomsdusk; wilbur x reader, enemies to lovers, highschool tropes. wilbur slowly falling for reader and becoming worried when they don’t show up to school until he finally confesses?? (not the full request)
about; explicit language, silent pining, rivalry, enemies to lovers, nervousness, a few kisses, rude behaviour, competitiveness, yelling, purposefully lowercase, use of y/n
word count; i wrote this on mobile and don't wanna try to find the word count. probably 1k, around there
celebrate here;
all you wanted to do was get through this last lesson of the day and go home, and try at a somewhat peaceful day, but wilbur clearly didn't know 'leaving someone alone' meant. he was watching your every move with caution, more or less, adoration.
"wilbur! please! i've had enough of your bullshit!" you yelled in the hallway, attracting the attention of other students. he'd walked out of class a few minutes after you and approached you, waving his test paper in your face, a clear '100%' written in red pen in the corner.
he knew something was finally wrong when a tear slipped down your face after your exclamation, and he chased after you down the hallway, tripping over his shoelaces.
"y/n! y/n, wait! listen to me!" his voice was desperate now. you had never heard that tone in his voice, and you felt bad. you really did. but you'd rather not give him an ounce more of your attention. your last class wasn't with him, thankfully, but he wasn't letting down the fact that he's made you upset.
you get to the bathrooms and lock yourself in a stall, hoping that he'll give up and leave you alone. you heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, but you never heard footsteps leaving.
'but he can't skip geography. he loves geography.'
and you can't skip your class. your parents will kill you if they find out.
opting to leave the bathrooms, you speed walk to your class, dodging anything wilbur had to say with a "wilbur, i'm gonna be late!" or a "shut up!". reaching your classroom, you place your bag on the floor and rest your face in your hands.
class came and went like a breeze, and you were now sitting in your bedroom, scanning through piles of homework and eating a snack. your last class had sent you home with a fuck-ton of homework, all due by halfway through the next week.
11pm rolled around, and you were utterly exhausted, and having a shower in the morning sounded way easier than now. wrapped up in your blankets, you drifted into a comfortable sleep.
---
you woke up needing to vomit, but not from sickness, but more so nervousness. wilbur's episode yesterday had shaken you around a little bit, and you did not like the thought of dealing with him on a friday.
you open your phone, remembering you had wilbur's number, for some reason. you were about to open his contact and tell him to leave you alone but you were interrupted by a text from him.
'hey y/n. i'm sorry for yesterday. meet me after school at the park down the road, if you can. again, sorry.'
'wilbur. can we do it tomorrow. i don't want to deal with anything today'
he read your message and you assumed he left for school.
---
he stood around all day, hoping to see your face pop up at least once but it never did. he had resorted to constantly checking his phone and ripping pieces of paper from his books, scribbling little messages on them, and shoving them in his pants pocket.
he was a mess, to say the least.
he was worried about someone he knew didn't care about him when they didn't show up to school. how pathetic can he get? he was never worried when you stayed home sick or when you went on a holiday, but this. this was different.
this was now. this is when he has finally gained feelings. this was the present time.
---
you ran down to the park, having completely forgotten that wilbur had messaged you yesterday after school saying he was happy to meet up today. you were struggling against the wind, your hair in your face and your loose band tee stuck to your body.
wilbur wasn't much better than you. he was picking at his fingernails, chewing on his fingers and flipping his phone around on his hands. he was a mess, yet again.
you spotted him sitting on a bench under a tree. he looked just as bad as you. well, a little bit better. he had actually put thought into his appearance. you showed up expecting to be able to leave within five minutes.
however, you couldn't have been further from the truth. two hours have passed since you sat down next to him, and majority of that time was spent with wilbur muttering short, breathless apologies to you. you'd said a few things, but now you were stuck with a prominent blush staining your face.
it fell silent over the both of you, staring out into the small pond, smiling at the ducks chewing at a few bread crumbs.
before he spoke up.
"i like you." he avoided your gaze.
"wilbur, what?"
"i like you. maybe that's why I find it hard to talk to you in any other way than pointless jokes. i didn't realise i was hurting you because i was so worried that my feelings would somehow get out to you." he admitted, an identical blush coating his face, making you lightly laugh at him.
"you pissed me off a lot though. and you thought i was stupid. and that i wasn't as smart as you. did you mean any of that?" you were worrying now.
"no, no no, no. i never meant that. again, i was too worried about my feelings for you that i completely disregarded how you felt." he quickly said, shutting his mouth as fast as he could.
this time, however. you didn't laugh. you didn't snicker. you didn't tease him.
you learnt over and rested on his shoulder, pressing a small kiss to his cheek. you press the same kiss to his nose, and then finally to his lips. he looked funny, lipgloss slightly smudged on his face, but at least he wasn't an ass about it.
he pressed more kisses to your lips, and sealing your fates with a long, warm kiss.
he wouldn't be teasing you anytime soon.
#200 follower event#event piece#writing event#wilbur soot#wilbur soot x reader#wilbur#wilbur soot imagine#wilbur x reader#wilbur soot fluff#wilbur fluff#wilbur soot comfort#enemies to lovers#highschool au
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Welcome Home , Darling! : Human Wally Darling x GN Puppet Reader
Shout out to @chronicbeans for advice and @stonesgirlfriend for like saying this idea and making it reality. So the plot is you are on the role of what Wally was and Wally is the human role. The story is starting as you are heading to start an Episode of Your vErSion of WELCOME HOME. Enjoy! Art is by Clown . Main creator of Welcome Home. I just wanted to show what Wally looks like for those who may not know
Y/n= your name
H/s= hairstyle
F/f= favorite fruit
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It was just another day in the neighborhood for (y/n) as they walk around the neighborhood smiling as wide as ever. Today they had a filming of their show Welcome Home. Though they are the only ones who know about it. All their Neighbors don’t realize that they are viewed. Just (y/n) and Home. Ever since (y/n) moved into Home, they became more aware and know their are others besides the neighborhood and enjoys the attention. So they go to their favorite spot in the neighborhood. They look straight ahead and smile wide and say “Welcome Home, Neighbor! So lovely to see you on this fine day!”
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^*^*^^^^^^^^^^
Wally Darling was sitting in his living room paper thrown all around , his usually styled hair a mess. He was having artist block. All of his drawings were just not the most. He sighed as he flipped on the tv hoping to find inspiration from shows on his television. He sighs kicking his papers in frustration as he flips channels until he sees this colorful opening with “WELCOME HOME”. He stops his flipping , interested in it. Like it drew him in. Maybe it was the artist in him but he watched the show. This puppet with (h/s) and a poofy colorful shirt with bell bottom jeans looks at the camera and says “Welcome Home ,Neighbor! So lovely to see you on this fine day!” It was like the character was talking to him. He liked their style so he took out his sketchbook and started to draw. The character discussed about a problem they were having in the neighborhood. How they and their best friend Barnaby has taken cookies from this character named Poppy and how they are having trouble admitting it was them. He watches as the puppet interacts talking to Barnaby and asking their neighbors such as another character named Julie and Eddie for advice. Every time he looked up the character may have been talking to someone else but they always seemed to be staring at him. It kind of felt weird to him. Like his soul was being stared at. He shivered and bit into his apple. Soon the character and Barnaby admit to Poppy they took cookies and Poppy forgives them saying next time to ask . The main character , whose name is (y/n) smiles and says thanks and says bye to their friends heading home. In front of their doorstep now, they look to the viewers , eyes wide and smiling . Smiling so creepily. “Thank you so much , Neighbor for helping out on todays problem. I hope to see y’all again …… real soon! Good night ,my Darlings!” The character says smiling wide and waving entering Home and closing the door. Wally shivers feeling as though they were specifically saying that to him as the credits roll. He may have been freaked out but he felt drawn to the show. Like it was part of him. Turning off the tv, he heads to get ready for bed hoping to watch more tomorrow , it looked like he found a muse.
vvvvvvvvvvv-vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
(Y/n) smiles as they enter home. Really excited , they say “Oh Home! I think I finally found someone who will be perfect for the neighborhood.” They sit at the kitchen and stare at their (f/f) bites being taken out of the fruit. “He is so handsome with caramel skin and blue hair. He was drawing me, Home! Me!! I can’t stop thinking about him. He is just like the best!” (Y/n) gushes over the fellow they saw today. Home creaks and squeaks in response. “Ohhhh. So I should bring them here if I like them that much. What a great idea home!! Let’s hope they want to stay forever and ever unlike our old neighbors.” They look toward the door that was to the basement no one but them and Home know about. (Y/N) walks over to their own television and starts fiddling with it making the tv where they live and where Wally lives turn onto a static channel. “Alright Home. I’m off to get me a man.” They laugh as they step through the television entering the human world. “Woooo still not use to that feeling,” they say as the pat there pants and start searching for Wally. They search the living room and the kitchen. They went to the bathroom amused and loving the art all around . They finally come to a bedroom door painted to look like an apple. They chuckle and open the door slowly as not to alert the sleeping Wally. (Y/n) heads over to Wally and picks him up . Him being in deep sleep and their softness helped in not awakening. They walk to the tv and smiling wide , whisper to the sleeping Wally. “Welcome home, Darling.” Entering the tv and going home.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~}~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Thank y’all so much. I do hope you like it. It’s been a while since I wrote. I’ll probably edit it. *whispers* check the tags . Also. If you want me to write something. Just ask. I’m willing to new ideas. Thank y’all again for reading
Big question y’all: are my asks open. I honestly don’t know. Let me know
#wally darling x reader#look for secret message#single caps#welcome home#welcome home fandom#welcome home x y/n#welcome home x reader#wally darling
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"I'm Just a F**ked Up Girl Looking For Her Own Peace of Mind"
I'm currently experience this and struggling with it so I wrote a little thing here. *sighs*
TW: Mental health (anxiety and depression), child abuse, mentions of suicidal thoughts. Reader has a breakdown and the guys help her through.
Eddie firmly barreled open the front door as he powerwalked into the house. Steve had texted those two words he dreaded every time he got a text from the former jock.
“Bad day.”
When they started dating you, you told them about your past. About the hospital stay and medication… the depressive lows and manic anxiety episodes… the thoughts that pushed through your head from time to time even though your life was so much better now than where it had been.
“I’m not…easy…to be with.”
“That’s ok, honey, neither are we.”
You three had laughed at that at the time.
The first time they experienced it broke their hearts for you. People always mentioned “feeling depressed” or “oh I’m so anxious about this thing!” but they discovered the true meaning of those words during your first break in front of them.
They hadn’t moved in with you yet so you were able to hide the fact that you hadn’t been sleeping. Your mind constantly reminding you of things that needed to be done and how you were a failure for not doing them. Nightmares plagued your dreams at all hours so you just gave up, scrolling through your phone instead as the mental illness continued to whisper.
“Do better. You’re lazy. May as well just get it over with and end the burden you put on people.”
That following evening you had a date night with them at their place and you couldn’t cancel. You genuinely wanted to see them but you were so tired…
“A good girlfriend goes out on dates. Go ahead. Cancel. Let’s see how quick they leave you for someone better.”
Through the first half of the movie they put on, your leg never stopped moving. Steve watched as your eyes never stayed focus in one place. Eddie felt your erratic energy radiate off you as you switched from holding his hand to letting go every few minutes.
“Baby? Is everything ok?”
“Yeah.”, you responded a bit too enthusiastically. “Yeah, Ed, I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just a bit tired. It’s ok. I’ll get over it.”
Steve paused the film and as his hand petted your head you broke down.
“I’m sorry. Fuck! Why can’t I be normal?! I’m ruining everything. You should just leave me and find someone better.”
“Hey, hey. No. Sweetheart, no one is better than you.”
“Talk to us, honey. What’s going on?”
You sobbed as you told them what had been happening over the last few days. The listened intently, comforting you anyway they could think of in that moment.
“They don’t go away, Steve. Those thoughts never go away. Most days I can manage them but they are always there. W-Who can I tell? If I tell a therapist or a doctor they will put me back in the hospital even though I’m not going to do anything… I can’t tell my friends because I feel like I’m burdening them or they just don’t care. I can’t tell people in general because then I’m being ‘overdramatic’. I can’t take time to heal because I’m supposed to ‘suck it up’. So I do… Eddie, I want my brain to just stop telling me I want to die because I really don’t. Some days, though, on bad days…it’s so loud…”
The metalhead yanked you to his chest as you cried, crying with you as he tightened his grip as if he could squeeze all your broken pieces back together. He’d give anything to take your pain away, they both would.
Today was a manic day and Steve picked up on it fast. Today was his day off and as soon as you woke up, you barely said a word. He asked you if you wanted breakfast and you shot him an angry look as you walked away. Turning on the tv, he put on the game but after a few minutes you came around the corner snapping at him to turn the noise down. Even when he muted the sound, he could hear you growling and swearing under your breath as you moved around the bedroom.
Other people would see it as you being a brat; causing drama for the sake of drama.
You wished you could make the world understand that was the opposite of what you wanted. In an episode like this everything was just…amplified…and for some reason your brain insisted it was on purpose. Steve was purposely turning up the volume to get under skin. The birds chirping outside knew you were on the edge so they gathered outside your window with intent. Even the clock on the bed side table was mocking you.
Both men tried to handle days like this by themselves but when it got to a certain point, they knew they needed to come together to help you. That point came when you abruptly screamed and threw something hard against the wall.
When Eddie entered the bedroom, Steve was off to the side watching you as you angrily paced, fluttering your fingers with eyes squeezed tightly closed.
“What happened?”
Your eyes open at the sound of his voice as you shrugged and threw your hands in the air.
“What happened? What the fuck happened?! Oh, I don’t know. Where do we start, Eddie?! This house is a fucking mess. I tell you guys all the time I need fucking help! I’m not a maid! I’m your girlfriend! But who fucking cares right?! We can just live in trash and be unhappy!”
They knew better than to respond. Before you three moved in together, you had suggested they come to therapy with you and they were surprised with some of the things they learned. They and even you knew they were more than accommodating when it came to housework and splitting household chores. When you were growing up, however, it was never enough.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N, look at this mess! Did you do anything today?!”
Little you looked around at the immaculate living room wondering what else you could have missed.
“I work and I slave all day at a job I hate so you can have food and a roof! The least you could do is fucking get off your ass and clean a bit!”
“I-I’m sorry, mama.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just do your job! We’re a team remember? I need you to pull your weight.”
They could almost see interactions like that replaying through your eyes and it killed them. They also saw how fast the logic brain took over as you realized what you were doing before the depressive brain abruptly took over.
“I’m sorry. I-I don’t mean to… I know I’m being crazy…I just…” You lean your back against the wall and slide to the floor with your hands over your ears.
Both men descend with you, crawling closer to you and as soon as Steve’s hand touches your bicep you head shoots up with eyes full of tears.
“I’m sorry. You two don’t deserve this. I’m a terrible girlfriend.”
“No, baby, you’re not terrible. Everything’s ok.”
“I-I-I appreciate…e-e-every…everything you guys do. Fuck. Everything is so loud, Eddie. I can’t… I couldn’t…I just wanted to scream…”
“Then scream.” You laughed at his response as you wiped your eyes but he insisted. “I’m serious, sweetheart. Just let go.”
“What about…about the neighbors?”
“Like they don’t get an earful almost every night.”, he jokes, grinning when you laugh again. “Go ahead. Just lean back and let loose.”
You roll your eyes as you do what he says but it’s a small shout that barely echoes in the room.
“Wow. That was both adorable and pathetic. Come on now. Steve, why don’t you try?”
Chuckling, he struggles to stop smiling making you giggle harder before finally closing his eyes and letting out a good scream that makes the metalhead clap.
“That’s the king of Hawkins right there! Now try again princess.”
Sighing at his antics, you do as he says actually letting go while they scrunch their face and cover their ears.
“Woo! That was like Banshee from X-Men! Way to go!”
“What about you, nerd?”, you ask as he smirks.
Eddie doesn’t even hesitate as he leans his head back and howls loudly like a wolf.
“I love you both.”, you softly grin as you reach for both boy’s hands. “I’m sorry for being…me.”
Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, Steve tilts you closer to him and kisses the top of your head.
“Don’t ever apologize for being you, honey. We love you. Every part of you.”
“We know everyday you’re trying, baby. Unlike your mother who insists on being an evil little gremlin.” You giggle at Eddie’s interpretation. “Like your wizard of a therapist said, healing takes time and we’ll be with you every step of the way.”
“Jesus, Munson, you ARE a nerd.”, Steve jests. “But the other stuff he said I agree with.”
“Oh please! Tell me her doctor doesn’t sound like Gandalf from time to time.”
“I still have no idea who that is.”
After rising to his feet, the metalhead grabs your hands and pulls you off the floor.
“Well, I know what we’re doing tonight.”, he announces with a mischievous smirk before kissing your lips and running back towards the living room.
“I’ll make dinner.”, Steve murmurs as he leans down to kiss your lips as well.
“Oh, you know he won’t allow that. He’s going to want you in front of the tv so you don’t miss anything.”
“True. Hm. How about Enzos delivered?”
When you nod, he caresses your cheek before disappearing after his friend.
As your eyes glance around the room again everything seems different than it did before. Instead of seeing a mess ridden, dark empty area, you saw a bright room filled with memories of the men you loved making you laugh and feel loved unconditionally.
“But for how long? It’s only a matter of time.”
“No, it’s not.”, you whisper.
Taking a deep breath, you head towards the living room where Eddie and Steve greet you with a comforting smile.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#joe keery#joseph quinn#steddie drabble#steddie au#mental health#mental health is important#you are not alone#you are loved#you matter#you are enough
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bluey!
Nathan discovers your son’s favourite show.
Warnings: As always, Nathan is a warning. No offence to Miss Rachel or anyone who uses Miss Rachel (I’ve personally never watched her, just needed Nathan to be a dick). Hints of infertility (from this episode of Bluey). Teeny tiny mention of parental anxiety of meeting milestones (from this episode of Bluey). Not proofread this time.
Word count: 1,238
F!Reader, no use of Y/N.
Yet another self indulgent fic about dad!Nathan. Set in the same universe as Shut Up, Kid, but can be read as a stand-alone. This also was only meant to be a quick one shot but it turned out to be over 1k 😂.
Nathan Bateman was a fucking genius.
He built the code for Blue Book when he was thirteen years old.
He used to think himself a God. He could build realistic androids, for Christ's sake (not anymore, not since ‘The Incident’).
And because of this, he finds it hard to ‘switch off’. His brain was always moving a million miles a minute, constantly filled with thoughts of how to improve the company, and now that he’s a dad, it just added another thing to think about. And he isn’t complaining about having to think about Silas – he loves the kid, would do anything for him – but at the same time...it is just another thing to keep his brain busy.
Like today.
You come walking into his office (the door is open most days now), holding Silas on your hip, his favourite pacifier in his mouth, and carrying as many toys as you could in your other hand.
“Can you watch him for an hour, please?”
You see Nathan’s shoulders slump before you’ve even finished asking, and you ignore the spark of irritation that sits uncomfortably in your chest as Nathan turns his chair to look at you. You know he’s busy, but you’re busy too; you’ve been called in for a virtual meeting, on your maternity leave, no less, with the department heads – you know they wouldn’t appreciate a noisy baby in the background (despite the fact you want to make a point that they requested you...on your maternity leave).
Besides, Nathan doesn’t have any tight deadlines right now. He’s the CEO, he can push anything back whenever he damn well pleases anyway.
“Nathan, he’ll just sit and watch his TV show for a bit, it’s only an hour.”
Nathan sighs, and you tense at it.
He makes a mental note to make up for it later.
“Okay,” he says, and without looking at him, you walk over to the rug in his office, sitting Silas down on it before placing the toys around him, in easy reach for him.
You turn on the TV and place Bluey on, before walking over to Nathan’s desk and placing the remote on it. You give a swift, “See you in an hour,” before hurrying out to make your meeting.
Nathan gives a quick look to Silas, who – in your defence – was still, watching the TV, sucking away on his pacifier. Satisfied, Nathan turns back to his computer, his eyes drifting over to Silas every now and then before turning back to his screens. The noise from the TV fades into the background, until one particular line jumps out at Nathan.
“Magic Claw has no children. His days are free and easy.”
Nathan huffed a laugh through his nose. He couldn’t agree more. He glanced at the TV then back at Silas before turning back to his computer.
After a while, another line came through, causing him to chuckle again.
“Can I help you?”
“I wish you could, mate.”
Eventually, when he hears the characters talking about – what he thinks is – wanting kids and being unable to have them, he turns his full attention to the TV.
“What the fuck are you watchin’?” Nathan asks before standing and slipping his hands in his pockets as he saunters over to stand behind Silas.
Nathan stands and watches the family of cartoon dogs; Bluey and her sister, Bingo, and their parents, Chilli and Bandit. He watches with a furrowed brow for a moment, wondering how this was his son’s favourite show (it was probably all the colours). And he guesses the theme tune was a little catchy. And sure, Silas didn’t quite understand it, but the dialogue was funny.
“This is better than some of the other shit you watch,” Nathan said, bending down and picking Silas up, without taking his eyes off the TV. “That whiney black bunny you watch? Hate him. The Teletubbies? Also awful. I don’t understand why your mom thinks it’s a classic.”
Silas made a small noise around his pacifier and pointed to the TV.
“Yeah, she your favourite?” Nathan asks, looking at Silas. “What’s her name again? Bingo?”
Silas makes another noise, almost as if confirming with Nathan, still pointing at the TV.
Nathan nodded anyway. “Okay, okay, gotcha.”
After a moment, Nathan stood holding Silas, the two of them watching Bluey together.
Your meeting overran.
By nearly 45 minutes.
Nathan was going to be pissed.
You speed-walk to his office, ready to blurt out an apology (even though it wasn’t your fault the meeting went over), but you stop mid step when you hear Nathan say to Silas, “I think she’s sleeping with the neighbour.”
Your brow furrows in confusion as you hear him, then Silas babble back.
“Oh yeah, you agree? They’re too friendly, right?”
You slowly walk into the Nathan’s office, seeing him standing with his bank to you on the rug, holding Silas in his arms as they watched Bluey together. Nathan was lightly swaying, almost as if he didn’t realise he was doing it.
You sucked in your lips, holding back a laugh. You didn’t want to ruin the moment.
“You better not turn out like Muffin, she’s insane,” Nathan said. “I’ll love you regardless, but still.”
Your heart skipped a beat, like it did every time you heard those words come out of his mouth. It wasn’t as if Nathan had never said ‘I love you’, but he…struggles…to express his emotions that aren’t irritability or exasperation. But with Silas, it came naturally to him. He never failed to say ‘I love you’ to his son (of course, Nathan does say it to you, but he understands you’re a ‘full-grown adult who can identify acts of love’; his words).
You’re brought out of your reverie as a new episode of Bluey started, the theme music kicking in. Your eyes widen and you laugh quietly as Nathan starts lightly jumping around to the music, Silas laughing and kicking his legs excitedly.
“I’m watching the footage back to this,” you say.
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Nathan says, jumping as he whirls around to look at you. “Announce yourself, would you?”
“You, uh…” you say, still grinning. “You watching Bluey?” you look at Silas, who smiles at you and kicks his legs in excitement. “You watching Bluey with dada? Does dada like Bluey?”
“This is fuckin’ great,” he says, giving you a pointed look. “So much better than that Miss Rachel, or whatever her name is. She’s fuckin’ annoying.”
“Excuse me, she’s very educational!”
“She’s overdoing it. The kid will learn to talk fine with just us.”
“His first word will probably be something inappropriate,” you say. “Like fuck. Or asshole.”
Nathan doesn’t reply as he turns back to the TV. You come and stand next to him, watching the episode with him. It’s the one where Chilli was telling Bluey about how she was worried that Bluey wasn’t going to meet her milestones, but Coco’s mom had told her she was doing an amazing job. It was one of your favourite episodes.
“I’ve been stood here for an hour watching these,” Nathan said quietly. “It’s nice.”
“Just standing and swaying with him?” you ask gently.
“Yeah,” Nathan said simply, not expanding.
You nod, before leaning against him a little. You feel him push back at you.
You stand together and watch a few more seconds of Bluey before you ask, “So you think Chilli and Lucky’s dad are going at it?”
“Oh they definitely are.”
#nathan bateman x f!reader#nathan bateman x reader#dad!nathan bateman x mom!reader#dad!nathan bateman#Oscar Isaac#ex machina#f!reader#mom!reader
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Current list of my TMNT Fanfics!
The Bone Garden
You gathered up old papers, old photos… and you flipped through them, one by one, remembering…
Rating / Genre: G / Drama, grief, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: 400
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Warnings: Mentions of death
Notes: Originally written on Halloween, 2007 for the 2k3 episode, Same As It Never Was, but now I feel that it applies to The Last Ronin, as well... or really, any story where one Turtle remained after the others had passed on.
A Cup Of Good Cheer
April is afraid that she got Donnie the wrong Christmas gift this year, but Leo tries to convince her otherwise.
Rating / Genre: G / Holiday, family, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: ~3,400
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Notes: Autistic Donnie vibes
Displaced
An unprepared Donatello ends up on a Greyhound Bus to Springfield, Massachusetts
Rating / Genre: soft T / Mild drama, road trip, gen
Chapters: 6/6 (complete)
Word count: ~18,500
TMNT Version: TMNT 1987 / Archie run
Warnings: Blood, guns, mild peril
Notes: This was my first TMNT fic, which I originally posted some 25 years ago. It was written even earlier, though, for my father right after the 1990s movies came out.
Fleeting Thoughts
A collection of 100-word TMNT drabbles
Rating / Genre: G / Various, gen
Chapters: 9/?
Word count: 900 (so far)
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Notes: I know it is hotly debated what the length of a drabble should be, but I was always firmly in the 100-word camp.
Midnight On The High Bridge
The High Bridge between Manhattan and the Bronx has always been one of Michelangelo's favorite places to go for a late night ride on his board; but on this cloudy evening, he finds more than just fresh air and freedom high above the Harlem River.
Rating / Genre: G / M/F, Meet-cute
Chapters: 3/3 (complete)
Word count: ~8,100
TMNT Version: 2007, TMNT Adventures
Notes: Brings Oyuki Mashimi into the 2007 universe; takes place a year after the events of the movie
Passage
Leonardo has an appointment with death.
Rating / Genre: T / Drama, supernatural
Chapters: 6/? (in-progress)
Word count: ~7,830 (so far)
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Warnings: Death and dying, gore, blood
Notes: Written back in the early 00s…
Requiescat
Leonardo died today.
Rating / Genre: G / Drama, grief, poetry, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: 180
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Warnings: Mentions of death and dying
Notes: Written a couple decades ago...
The Scent Of Violets
Donnie and Mike are trapped underground with a memory
Rating / Genre: T / Drama, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: ~1,800
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Warnings: Blood, severe injury
Notes: Another one written in the late 90s, early 2000s (even I can't remember at this point)
Second Time Around
Two years after the defeat and banishment of Krang and Shredder, the Turtles and their human friends now have different, more personal challenges to overcome -- challenges that are made all the more difficult to deal with when Baxter Stockman and Karai pull them into a conflict that involves disentangling the complexities time itself.
Rating / Genre: T / Script, gen
Chapters: 19/? (in-progress)
Word count: ~28,000 (so far)
TMNT Version: Bayverse (2014-2016)
Warnings: Character death mentioned
Notes: A script/screenplay for a third Bayverse movie.
Something Wicked
He felt movement all around him; something like the wind, though the air was dead still. He backed against the curved sewer wall… holding his breath as his eyes scanned the pitch blackness. The feeling grew closer, touching him… a whisper against his damp skin…
Rating / Genre: M / Horror, suspense, gen
Chapters: 17/? (in-progress)
Word count: 50,400 (so far)
TMNT Version: Undetermined -- originally written for the 87 series/Archie run, but this new version is its own continuity
Warnings: Blood, gore, possible character death, whump, etc. Best suited for people that have no problem with slasher movies.
Notes: Originally written and posted a couple decades ago, now being put under an extensive rewrite
Still Waters
They say I'm the quiet one…
Rating / Genre: G / Introspective, poetry, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: ~200
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Notes: Also from over twenty years ago. A Donatello introspective.
Under The Influence
Leo is under the influence of… something
Rating / Genre: G / humor, gen
Chapters: 4/4 (complete)
Word count: 400
TMNT Version: Various / Any
Notes: Just a silly little four-drabble story I wrote when I wasn't feeling so well a bunch of years back...
When She Loved Me
She always said that I had his eyes. I don't know if I ever really believed her… after all, I never knew him. But I suppose they must be his. Her own eyes were deep and dark, almost black… reflective like mirrors. Mine are blue… light blue, like the sky. I think that sometimes she hated looking into them, because it was like she was looking at him again… like she was looking at my father.
Rating / Genre: G / Drama, gen
Chapters: 1/1 (complete)
Word count: 2,500
TMNT Version: TMNTA, the Archie run
Warnings: Parental abandonment
Notes: This is Oyuki's backstory as I see it. It was originally written and posted at FFnet back around 2000, though the fic is contemporary with the TMNTA Comics, setting its year at 1992.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#ninja turtles#tmnt fanfic#tmnt bayverse#tmnt 2k3#tmnt 2007#tmnt 2003#rottmnt#tottmnt#tmnt mm#tmnt mutant mayhem#tmnt 2012#tmnt 1987#writers on tumblr
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