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moondirti · 10 days

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big fan of the headcanon that simon riley is hard to get.

if we're being realistic, he's probably gotten very good at ignoring any inclination he might have towards a person in the years since his families' murder. it's easier to function as a soldier, as ghost, when he doesn't have to carry the burden of concern for someone so vulnerable. whether it's worrying about their safety while he's on deployment and can't afford to, or otherwise repressing his darker tendencies in an effort not to break them; the extra effort just isn't worth it to him. he won't seek you out, he won't take care of you, he won't reassure and coddle and communicate.

and he's not blind, nor is he passionless. he can appreciate a pretty face when one happens to pass by, but that's pretty much the extent of it. he's gotten used to the scorch of the lonely flame that flickers inside of him. if anything, he thinks putting it out and tending to the burns left in its wake would be a more traumatic ordeal than just letting it consume him.

so for him to accept love, it'd have to sneak up on him.

it happens with johnny first. he's the natural candidate, of course. his stubborn subordinate, clever with a fixated loyalty and quick wit – who better than him to get under ghost's skin?

granted, he isn't as guarded around him as he would've been with a civilian. not as cold upon introduction because he doesn't need to be. soap's a soldier, and this is work, and he's confident enough in the sergeant's resilience that it doesn't hinder his routine. he doesn't have to make accommodations, bend backwards or wake up in a cold sweat concerned about the man's wellbeing; not at first, anyway. and such are the floodgates that allow him to embrace johnny's company.

jokes crackled over comms. sitting next to each other on the airlifter. claps on the back after a successful operation. trust in every decision he chooses to take, regardless of whether or not he agrees. he thinks about johnny's eyes, johnny's smile, johnny's fierce little pout and the scar on his chin – but everything in moderation. the perfectly healthy amount. passing appreciation of his best mate's features and nothing more. it's the only meaningful connection he's had in years, and so what if he tugs his cock to the thought of it? people have cum to less.

until the bastard gets himself shot in the liver on solo reconnaissance in cyprus, and almost dies on medevac.

because when ghost gets that call from price – soap's hurt. it's looking grim. – he's wracked with a terror so acute he thinks his heart has given up on him. it's about the worst way to find out that he considers johnny as more than a friend. this sheer desperation, longing, regret. he ponders over it in the plane, tries to scrub the dread from his being. tries to pick apart what went wrong, what makes the sergeant so special.

by the time he reaches the hospital, he's already accepted defeat. all it takes is one look at johnny in his hospital bed – features peaceful, bandages wrapped around his bare chest, mohawk and facial hair grown out – to understand that this isn't going away anytime soon. he'll just have to make his peace with it. readjust to accommodate the protective flare already sparking in his chest.

it's a hassle, but manageable. despite his injury, johnny's still a competent man. they already know how to function in bouts of high stress. they're good– great friends. all this is really is an opportunity for simon to finally dig his cock within an ass he's been eyeing for months – or at least, that's the rationale he uses to come to terms.

and then you arrive. and things get a whole lot more complicated.

johnny's bird, apparently – gaz whispers to him outside of the inpatient room, watching through the window as you fret over the comatose man's pillows – didn' know he had one. m'surprised. you'd think a loudmouth like him would let the world know. she's cute too. really, ghost, did you have any idea?

he can't find it in him to respond, opting instead to march back into the room. you're fussing too much, causing a scene, no doubt disturbing the air with the nervous energy radiating off you in waves.

"he isn' supposed to be elevated like tha'," simon scolds, inflating a bit when you straighten up, eyes blowing wide with distress.

"oh... i just thought- he gets all hot when he lays on his back like this. i wanted him to be comfortable."

he knows that he's being cruel. you've done absolutely nothing to deserve the harsh glare he shoots your way, nor should you be expected to handle it. your eyes are red-rimmed, puffy like you've been crying on the way over. no doubt unused to crises like this one. he should be a help, not another source of stress.

besides. johnny's your boyfriend, not his. he has no reason to be so territorial. he'd only just discovered his feelings eight hours ago.

but–

"are you a doctor?"

"n-no."

"then it's best you keep your opinion to yourself."

he just can't help himself.

over the next week, ghost treats you with nothing more than cold disregard. he side-eyes you when you cry, wakes you up with rough pokes to your shoulder once visiting hours close, and takes every chance to one-up you when it comes down to who knows johnny better. you've got a leg up in the domestic department, but simon knows that nothing can surpass the borderline psychic bond they've built, and he makes sure to emphasise it whenever he can. and fuck, does it annoy him that you take it with grace every time, nodding receptively as though his input is meant to be more than just a searing critique of your shortcomings.

his behaviour doesn't go unnoticed, either. gaz is infinitely perplexed to see that the usually controlled lieutenant is so quick to lose his temper around you, despite your earnest efforts to not be a nuisance, and all price offers are long, disapproving looks that have him itch uncomfortably in his seat.

on the other hand, you must believe that he's just like that – foul mouthed, disparaging, mean – because you don't take it to heart. you remain pleasant, gentle, if not a little bit emotional. never once do you raise your voice at him, or fight back when he extends a particularly hurtful comment. on the occasion that his attitude grows to be too much for you, all you do is slip on a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and spread out your textbooks to spend the evening studying on the other side of the room. not keen on making amends, or discovering the source of simon's malcontent, but not affected by it either. you're peaceful. conflict averse. a good girl.

then, you come back one day with a tupperware of cookies.

"i made them myself last night. couldn't sleep, so..." you shrug, holding it out towards him. he assesses them, assesses you, roving over your chapped lips and hollow under-eyes. when did you get to look so defeated?

"no." he looks away, back to the unconscious man in front of him. in his periphery, your shoulders deflate, and he doesn't know what compels him to add the quiet "thanks."

"you've been here every hour of every day. i don't think i've seen you eat. um–" you dodge his gaze when it shoots to you. you've never tried to hold a conversation before now, have always accepted his gruff responses as an indication to leave him alone. he wonders why you can't catch the hint now. "just- let me know if you change your mind. they're shortbread."

and that's the end of it. at least until an hour later:

you're sitting on your armchair, directly across the bed from him, staring blankly at johnny when you speak up. "lieutenant?"

ghost doesn't remember introducing himself to you. he doesn't respond, but clenches his jaw to let you know he's listening.

"he's been comatose for a while." you warble. meaningless chatter. he sees it for what it is: talking so you don't cry. seeking reassurance in someone who knows how these things go.

"hm."

"is this how it usually-"

"sometimes."

"oh."

"he'll be alright." simon adds. more for himself than for you, but your lip wobbles like it's exactly what you needed to hear.

a few moments later, you speak up again.

"he holds you in such high regard, y'know."

he didn't. his heart aches as he follows the rise and fall of johnny's chest, finds solace in it, calming himself before he rips the hair from his skull. he can't speak, can't muster a rude dismissal, or any hatred for you. not anymore. this hospital has sucked the soul from him, as it seems to have done with you.

"he'll be happy to know you've stuck to his side." you smile, stirring from your seat and slinging your bag over your shoulder. "i have to go, got an exam tomorrow. i'll leave the cookies here in case you crave one."

you're halfway out when simon replies. "good luck."

and he's on his third cookie when johnny finally wakes. by then, he's already made up his mind. it's revelation he comes to much faster than the first.

if he can't have just johnny, he'll take you both.

#i ran out of steam towards the end could you tell #ghostsoap #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x reader x johnny 'soap' mactavish #johnny 'soap' mactavish x reader #ghostsoap x reader #simon 'ghost' riley x johnny 'soap' mactavish #call of duty

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voidhope · 10 months

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The Other Woman

—

Synopsis: Where Miguel leaves Y/N to go back to a different version of his old wife found in another universe.

Pair: Miguel O’Hara x Spider!Reader

Tags: ANGST!!, long term established relationship, heartbreak, marriage, cheating, mental health, cold/distant Miguel

—

A/N: Hi! I don’t really write at all!!

I have been a silent reader on tumblr for years but this idea has been playing in my mind so much I had the urge to write it. I have been down so bad for Miguel been on his tag like 24/7 indulging in all the content creators have been putting out. So I’m excited to join in giving content, however keep in mind I kinda suck! Apologies for any mistakes, anything confusing, or it not being well written enough. Honestly could have made this into multiple parts with better details but nah. Tried my best ^^ since it’s my first time, any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Honestly tbh we all don’t have a solid grasp how the whole canon thing and multi universe works yet so!! A lot of what is written is made up to suit my storyline so please don’t get mad about the inaccuracies.

I love a good angst and today’s story will be EXTRAAA angsty!!! As well kinda long!!

—————————————————

The moment that changed your life was while working on an experiment during your college finals. You were a proud and gifted physics major that was so passionate about discovering and exploring what the world didn’t know.

You had snuck into Alchemax late at night. You wanted to show your professors just how much you could do with the right tools. Next thing you know, playing with their machines, you had spawned a spider right in-front of you. The glowing vibrant red spider had sunk its jaw into your hand.

Your life did a complete turn and you spent the rest of that week freaking out while changes to your body were happening. Causing you to fail your semester after missing exams. Things felt like it could only get worse when a massive blue suited masked man showed up out of nowhere in your dorm interrogating you.

“Where’s the spider?” He had a strong grip on your shoulders. You couldn’t focus while trying to process why this man had what seemed like claws sticking out of the ends of his fingers.

“I don’t know, it like died after it bit me!” You exclaimed nervously at the freakishly strong man. Trying to reach for anything behind you to use as a defense weapon.

“Dios mío no me digas eso…” He groaned loudly letting you go. Having the opportunity to grab something, you threw a sanrio plushie at him. Only causing him to wave his arms in annoyance. “That spider is from my earth and somehow you brought it here. Now you’re a spider-man.”

And the rest is history…

—

You learned that the man was Miguel O’Hara and when he found you he was just starting his missions with the multiverse. You being the few of the firsts to join his team.

Your situation was quite bizarre and he called you an anomaly for a long time, spending hours studying you and also training you. You ended up being the one case that can’t be explained no matter how much effort was put into monitoring you.

Almost like it was meant to be. Your universe remained perfect with its current spider-man doing fine. No big collapse of a black hole or anything. When you got bit by a spider from Earth-928 your DNA merged with that universe making you fit in perfectly. You were one of the only spider-people with an uncertain timeline with new canons being created depending on what universe you were in.

What changed from you being just a piece of research for Miguel is when he then realized that maybe you were a gift from the multiverse. After all the grief and pain he’d went through the universe had given him this person that worked out perfectly no matter how hard he tried to push them away. You fell head over heels for him and vice versa, all while canon events were being created with both of you together.

You were there as his team grew, slowly turning into a family. Then both of you getting married finalizing that this was your home. Everything felt perfect. Although a relationship with Miguel could have its up and down days, nothing could ever tear you both apart. Or so you assumed.

—

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Miguel couldn’t look at you.

“When did this start? Please be honest with me. Did I do something wrong?” You begged at him. You knew he was acting off recently but never did you think it would result to this.

You watched as he exhaled deeply staring at the ground. You felt like you couldn’t breathe as you studied his face trying to grasp onto any emotion he was showing. The atmosphere in his office felt so cold. You so badly wanted to catch his gaze and find the warmth and love his red irises used to give you. He was doing everything to push you away. He was abandoning you.

“You did nothing wrong. I met her during a mission 4 months ago.” Was all he replied.

“Who is she?” Your heart kept breaking. His face hardening as the question slipped through your lips. You knew Miguel wouldn’t leave you for just anyone. Deep in your heart you knew what this was about. He never responded but he didn’t need to when you saw his eyes flicker over to his monitor screens. You followed his trace and saw the photo of Gabriella in the corner.

“Does she have another version of your daughter?” You tried again. This is what made him look directly at you. Miguel kept opening and closing his month unsure how to tell you the truth. You weren’t stupid and he knew that. After everything he couldn’t just walk out on you with a lie.

“No.” He paused thinking of how to finally share the truth without it ruining you. There was no way out of this. “She is a younger version of herself. There is no Miguel in her universe and she’s not important to the timeline. She lives a regular life. I-it’s a chance for me to start at the very beginning.”

You felt your heart being ripped out of your chest. You processed the words carefully. She doesn’t have a child yet… Not only was he leaving you for her but he was going to fall in love with her all over again and start a family with her. A family you wanted so badly to have with him.

“What about with what happened last time you tried to live a life in a different universe?” You didn’t understand how this was happening.

He was always so carful he would never do anything to cause that again. Everything you had witness Miguel work so hard for to keep safe for years. Sleepless nights, returning bruised and beaten, frustrations and constant stress. Was it all for nothing? Is he throwing all his work away?

“This is different.” He turned away from you. “I pushed myself then into an already established life. This time I am creating that life. After all the research we did on you…” He knew that this was going to tear you apart. “I learned that if done right I could have a child from two different universes that won’t disrupt anything.”

It clicked to you then that all the research he was doing on you lately was for this. The research he did on you that time was different, personal, intimate even. As he was testing your DNAs together and seeing the outcomes. He mentioned a child and you were foolish enough to assume he was doing research to see what it would be like if you both had one together. You were giddy even as you watched him work. You had both spoken about having a family together in the past but had been too busy with spider activities. You thought it was a sign of him getting more serious about it, knowing how badly he wanted one. You would have never thought he was doing it to see how he could get back his previous child. The one you could never give him.

You had truly believe that Miguel had recovered from his obsession that his grief gave him. He accidentally destroyed a whole universe needing that life back so badly. You had spent late nights watching him re-watch clips over and over of what he had lost. It slowly stopped once your relationship blossomed with him and you thought he was ready to move on and start new. Why would you have never thought that with such a perfect opportunity presented to him that he wouldn’t drop everything for it.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” He spoke with a soft tone. As if not looking at you any longer will make the problem go away. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how he was just throwing you away like this. As if he wasn’t making you dinner, giving soft kisses, whispering I-love-you’s not so long ago.

You felt too choked up to ask anymore questions. Your throat tight and painful as you held back tears from escaping in-front of Miguel. You just nodded and headed straight out the door not being able to handle another second in that room. Your knees and hands were shaky as you speed walked into the nearest bathroom and let it all out.

—

It didn’t take long for everyone else to know something had happened. Everyone had gotten used to seeing you and him sitting together at lunch. You would make him cute lunch boxes and everyone would gag a bit while watching the two of you smile together. Some cringing seeing their scary boss being so soft around you. It was a big surprise when Miguel started to eat alone with a bag of take out food and you no where to be seen.

His teams he sent out for missions were all confused when you weren’t assigned to anything. Knowing you were one of the best, one of them slipped out a “Call for Y/N!” In the middle of fighting an anomaly too strong for them. Miguel only looked away.

It wasn’t until a new woman showed up in Miguel’s office with a grip around his waist. That’s when the spider-community realized that this was way worse than they thought.

—

You on the other hand had spilled everything to Hobie when he caught you that day leaving the bathroom with puffy eyes. You had been staying with him in his universe until you could gather yourself together to return to HQ. You knew you were going to leave for good, but you needed to go back to retrieve all your things. You couldn’t stay with Hobie forever. Worse that you weren’t from there.

You still had some hope that Miguel would come looking for you and tell you that he was all wrong. However almost two months had passed and not a word from him… That’s when you knew it was time you should return to what you once knew.

Stepping into the portal Hobie followed close behind you. He told the few others who were once close to both you and Miguel that you would be visiting. Stepping through the portal you were immediately greeted by Jessica and Peter B Parker.

“Oh, Y/N.” Jess sighed your name sadly while pulling you into a hug. You felt like you wanted to cry all over again. Missing your friends so much. Peter B came behind giving you a hug on the side.

“He’s on a mission right now.” Peter spoke up. “It might be a long one too but don’t waste anytime just incase.”

You nodded pulling away from them. Looking up around the headquarters building faintly smiling at the past memories you had here. You started heading to different areas gathering all the little things you had left around. Hobie had stitched for you a cute backpack with different scraps of patterned clothes and covered in patches of punk band logos but made with hammer space technology. Making it fun for you to fill endless of your things in the bag.

The last stop was in Miguel’s office. Doubt started to fill your mind; maybe he already threw out all of your stuff. Why would he even keep it after all of this? What no one could warn you of was the other person sitting on his platform.

“Hello!” She chirped at you. It felt like the air in your lungs had just been punched out. You knew her too well. From all the photos and videos you had seen peaking over Miguel’s shoulder. However seeing her in person was something you had never expected. You knew it wasn’t the original her but it was a copy paste image for sure.

“Hi.” Was all you managed to choke out. She was beautiful, stunning. You could see clearly now the similar features she shared in another universe with her daughter. The parts that Miguel didn’t have. She kept smiling kindly at you, almost in a graceful way. You started to feel all your insecurities start eating you up from the inside. How could you have ever compared to her.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” Getting off Miguel’s platform she walked closer to you. The room started to feel suffocating.

“Y/N.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you! It’s nice to meet other girls around here.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you realized she had no reaction to your name. So Miguel never told her about you… Or that the fact was he was still even legally married to you.

“My boyfriend isn’t here right now but, if you want, I can tell him you stopped by.” She continued as you stayed silent.

“Oh, no it’s okay. I just came in here to get some stuff.” You rushed as you really wanted nothing to do with Miguel at all. You almost worried that he might even get angry knowing you got to speak with her. If he already dislikes you this much you couldn’t even imagine how he would feel if you got in the way of this for him.

You started heading over to the familiar drawers around the room. Grabbing your old hoodies and shirts finding your most comfortable of things here. You treated this place as one of your safe spaces as you used to spend so much time here.

“Oh I didn’t know these were all yours! I was wondering why this was all around. When I came here I wanted to do some spring cleaning but Miguel wouldn’t let me touch anything.” She followed besides you. “It’s so mind blowing seeing all this technology. We don’t have any of this where I live-“ She continue rambling but you started to zone her out. You felt like you were about to have a panic attack any minute. There was one question that kept burning in your mind.

“Are you and Miguel already planning to have a child?” You blurted out. Your eyes widened a bit as you surprised yourself. She let out a loud laugh.

“Oh dear no! We have only been together about 6 months. You must be new around here so you must not know much about us.” She chuckled.

In some cruel way you were hoping she would have said yes. You had that twisted hope of maybe Miguel just keeping her to have a kid and ditching her after he gets Gabriella and run back to you. In reality he was playing the long game, he really meant it when we said he was starting over. “He’s never mentioned kids anyways. I’m not even sure if he’d like them or do well with them.”

With that statement she made you looked at her appalled. Anyone could see in Miguel how good of a father he could be. Just in the way he takes care of the society he built here. You started to realize that she really has been left in the dark. She doesn’t know anything. She probably doesn’t even know that she’s a replacement of another self. You wondered why Miguel was doing this. It felt like he didn’t just toy with you but with her as well. A man you came to love for how selfless he was, to realize now everything was for his own personal gain. Suddenly you started to feel bad for her. You couldn’t dislike her, she wasn’t doing anything wrong and she doesn’t even know.

“I got all my stuff. Nice to meet you.” Was all you could say as you zipped up your bag and turned straight around out of there. Not giving any glance back at her, you left to one of the empty training rooms to recollect your overwhelming thoughts. All of the self healing you tried the past month thrown in the garbage.

It wouldn’t be too soon that news of you going around the building was returned to Lyla. You had cut out all coms while you were gone so she immediately popped up on your watch when she found out.

“AH-“ You jumped as the tiny AI was suddenly in front of your face.

“It’s so wonderful to see you Y/N. Oh my god!”She started. Then she went on rambling about how she knew everything and had seen everything. How she didn’t agree with what was happening and was doing everything she could to convince you to stay. After 5 minutes of her rambling you stopped her to let your emotions out.

“Lyla, Lyla It’s okay. Just stop. It’s all complicated I know, but this didn’t work out. I wished Miguel just cheated on me like all the other fucked up normal men out there. That I walked in on him deep in another random girl. Though painful I could have tried fixing and fighting for us. But instead what I got was him emotionally cheating on me and chase after something he knows I can never give him.” You felt yourself choke up. “I can never ask him to give up what he longs and dreams for just for me to be happy. I lost this battle the moment he laid eyes on her.”

Finding comfort in the AI your husband made. You’ve created a bond with Lyla that Miguel found cute but you knew now this might be the last time you’ll be speaking with her.

“You can give him a family y/n… you guys have been married two years now. I know you’ve both set the thought aside until the multiverse issues are better but you can fight for him. You have to snap him out of his fantasy. He still thinks about you.”

“Lyla you know deep down truly he never just wanted a family. He wanted exactly what he had. What he lost. Which should be impossible but being by his side seeing how insane the multiverse is… Good for him for believing in something so hard he’s found himself even a third chance to do it.”

“I hate that you’re being too kind about this situation.” Lyla paced around you.

“I love him so deeply Lyla. You know that very well. It’s so hard to suddenly hate him. I am angry, but I’m also emotionally drained I can’t do this.” You let out a deep sigh. “I’ve watched him long for this family when we just met. For some stupid reason when things worked out for us I thought I would be enough… When we got engaged and he would spend some days at home with me not even coming to HQ. I thought he was finally moving on not just from his grief and past but from the weight of his work. I saw a bright future for us.”

“You can still have a bright future with him! You moving here gave him a new canon event, another chance at life in his timeline. Here in his own universe! He’s just too obsessed and he’s lost himself in that.” She exclaimed with her hands up.

“Our canon event was our wedding.” Your frowned deepened. “But the universe didn’t say anything else after. It doesn’t say our canon event means we are suppose to live happily together forever I guess.”

“I’m just trying my best to be optimistic. I rooted so hard for you and Miguel when you joined the team. I know you can remember the amount of times I would force you both in rooms.” Lyla recalled.

“And I’m grateful for it… Even if this didn’t work out. I was given precious memories, not just working with you and being on this team but falling in love with Miguel. I know I’m being all depressed and hopeless but I feel like even if I move on I’ll never be able to replace him and find a relationship like this again. However he threw me away so easily and maybe he never valued me as much as I did to him.” You felt your emotions bubble. “I became who I am here. I’m going to miss everyone so much.”

“You can still stay here and work with us.” She edged on.

“I can’t just sit around here begging at his feet to return to me or moping around doing missions while watching him with someone else. I want to hate him so badly. I know he’s your boss and you’re basically hardwired to do everything for him and you’re trying your hardest to fix what you think is his right path. But think of me a little more and how miserable it’ll be. I’m the only one hurting here.”

Lyla paused and stared at you with an almost glossy-eyed look. While she worked she could see the inner term-oil Miguel was hiding and the emptiness he was turning to since trying to start new in the other universe. It just wasn’t her place to hold this conversation and he was the one who needed to get a grip of himself and really think and talk with you. She can’t be the one trying to mend the pieces for both of you together. What Miguel did was so wrong. She knew you were right and she didn’t want to see any more damage be caused to you.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She looked up at you sincerely. “I hate this outcome for you. Not only are you loosing your husband but your home. When was the last time you’ve even been in your universe?”

“Like a year ago for a mission…”

“Exactly! Even if things are over with Miguel, you have all of us here! I wish you could stay. I understand you leaving, I really do. I know a lot of us will try visiting you but I’m tied to Miguel…” You started to see how it clicked for her too that it’s most likely you might not see each other for a long time. “Even if a spider-person is visiting you I can’t just show up on their watch… It’ll go back to him and I know you wouldn’t want that. I know I’m an AI and I can’t hold real emotions but I mean it when I say I’m going to miss you.”

Tears poured down your cheeks as her words hit you. Going back to your universe is going to be a struggle. You have nothing there now. However nothing can compare to the pain of the outcome you’ve had with Miguel, and you needed out of here ASAP. Your mental health getting worse the longer you stay. Even the other spiders you have come to love can’t bring that spark back right now. You needed genuine time for yourself, even if it’s self destructive, instead of putting on a fake smile everyday here.

“Bye, Lyla.” You whispered. She nodded and waved her hand goodbye at you before disappearing. You took your watch off your wrist placing it on a nearby desk. With it you pulled the divorce paperwork out of your pocket neatly sealed and already signed on your half. Opening a portal you took your last glances at the place you spent so many loving memories in.

Tears blurred your vision as you stepped through the portal. Once your legs landed on a rooftop of a building in your dimension, you racked out full sobs falling to your knees.

You were always just the other woman.

—————————————————

Thank you so much for reading!! I know it was a longer one ~

would anyone like a part 2? If so anyone want a angsty or happy ending? I think it’ll be more in Miguel’s perspective as well!

EDIT: You can now read PART 2 here

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara imagine #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara angst #spiderman imagine #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #x reader #spiderman #fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spiderman x reader

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stargirlrchive · 7 months

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── KINKTOBER DAY SIX

car fucking w/ simon riley ─ fem!reader

cw: jealous and possessive simon :p, p in v

NSFT ✩ MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ✩ GENERAL MASTERLIST

“get in.”

you could feel the cold metal digging into your skin as simon caged you in between himself and the truck. yanking the door open as his eyes blazed with frustration.

your face scrunched up but you listened, climbing into the truck as simon followed suit. the door slammed behind him and you stared at him with confusion.

“for not wanting people to know about us, you really are one for dramatics, ghost.”

his gloved fingers twitched as you began to scoot yourself away from him, his voice twinged with hurt, “don’t call me that when we’re alone.”

the silence rang loud in the confined space of the car and he sighed, inching closer to you. you didn’t move, not that you could, but simon appreciated it all the same. his hand reaching out to tilt your face to him, “baby, come on.”

“no, simon. don’t ‘baby, come on’ me. are you gonna tell me what the hell that was about? you practically ripped that poor recruits hand off.”

your eyes met his but simon’s stomach churned as he noticed how frustrated you were. “he was touching you.”

“no he wasn’t.”

an annoyed growl left simon’s mouth as he shook his head, “yes he was. kept offering to get you drinks, kept standing too fucking close. he was undressing you with his eyes, i could see it.”

you didn’t know what to say, maybe the recruit had been a little clingy but you didn’t even notice. so why did it matter? “simon, i didn’t even notice-”

“i still didn’t like the fact that he was all over you.”

your eyes rolled as he cut you off, “why do you even care? it’s not like you want people to know you’re with me.”

the silence that filtered the car was suffocating, and it almost made you fear looking into his eyes. fearful that you’d get the confirmation you had been hoping to avoid. that he felt that you made him weak.

“that’s not-” he cut himself off to gently pull you onto his lap. “baby, that’s not fair. we had both agreed that it was best to keep this, us, just between the two. keeps us both safer.”

he was right, but it didn’t mean it didn’t sting. his fingers dug into your hips, pulling you even closer, “i’m sorry alright? i just don’t like anyone touching what’s mine.”

your eyes snapped up to meet his and your face colored at his words. he had a lazily smile behind the balclava as his finger dug into your hips, drawing small circles as you relaxed into him. “you like that, hm? you like when i remind you that you’re mine?”

you huffed softly but simon knew you, he could tell by the way your breathing picked up a bit and the way you began to squirm in his lap that you did enjoy it. he grunted quietly, “quit movin’, love.”

you bit down onto your bottom lip, staring up at him with hazy eyes as your hips began to move down on him with more purpose, undulating your hips onto his.

simon called out your name, gripping your hips as he pressed you down harder.

“what do you want, love?”

“you.”

with great difficulty simon removed his jeans, pushing your skirt up to bunch at your hips while he pushed your panties to the side. his thumb rolling against your clit as he positioned himself at your entrance.

it didn’t take much for the soft mewls of pleasure to leave your mouth. your hips bouncing effortlessly up and down his thick cock.

the windows had fogged up, and you were sure the truck was rocking from the sheer effort the two of you were putting into it. simon’s eyes closed tight with each desperate roll of your hip.

the space was crammed and tight but your warm cunt was milking him so perfectly. simon could feel the soft drag of your breast against his chest and it killed him to not be able to see you fully naked. desperate and needy.

your hand had laid flat against the window to aid in your movements. steading you with each upwards drag. “fuck, you enjoy this, hm?”

no words came out of your mouth as you bounced harder and faster, “you like getting me all worked up so i can stuff you full of my cock. so i can remind you who you belong to.”

you cried out quietly, nodding your head as your cunt tightened around him.

simon’s fingers wrapped around your wrist that was pressed against the window, tugging on it gently and it caused your body to fall flat against his, holding your hands to his chest, while the other held your hips in place. pistoning his hips in and out of you as he took over.

your head lulled forward to rest on his shoulder, your arms restricted against both of your chest as you cried out desperately. your body trembling above simon’s as your climax was fast approaching, “gonna-fuck, gonna come, si’.”

both of his hands moved to your back, caressing gently as his cock continued to plow into you. when your back tensed, simon pulled your hips flush against his.

grinding you down lazily as he grunted quietly, his head thrown back as he came, deep inside of you.

your legs trembled as you tightened around him, whining softly from every sensation coursing through you.

your thighs ached from the tight space, but simon’s lingering touches, gliding over you with practiced gentleness, began to ease it. his touch making you sleepy as your breathing evened out.

with a soft kiss to your temple he pulled out. dressing you back up before dressing himself. massaging as best he could your aching muscles as your body slumped against him. “m’sorry about earlier. just don’t like sharing.”

simon could feel your smile against his shoulder before you pulled back, staring up at his masked face. “it’s okay, neither do i.”

taglist: @trashfox @king-julian6201 @cyberfreaky @tojisun @lazystorycollector @cosmicanakin @yeoldedumbslut @httpsmama @punk-22 @youcraveet @moxiz @hisa-plush @alastairheir @ra-im @ifellinthebong @darlingvinny @aeplern @tallmanlover @screamingoverfiction @mixling-blog @pretty-npeach @babygirl-riley ; lmk if you would like to be tagged <3

#i want him to remind me i’m his :(((#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x reader smut #call of duty #cod #simon riley x female reader #kinktober #STARGIRLRCHIVE — KINKTOBER

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wifeyoozi · 6 days

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Ot13 seventeen: with pillow princess reader

scoups : loooooooves to do all the work anyway. Will not let you move an inch and satisfy you completely single-handedly.

jeonghan : loves teasing you about it. Will fuck you just about right anyways but will tease you by commanding you to move for him on purpose

Joshua : gentleman indeed. he's probably even the reason why you are such a pillow princess because he loves doing the work and letting you take all the pleasure.

Junhui : two pillow princesses stuck side by side. He does takes charge more often and let's you rest your back but sometimes he'd whine to have you service him a little while he laid back.

Hoshi : this man has infinite stamina. Tiger strength fr. He'll end up making you tired even though you were just laying back doing nothing.

Wonwoo : he knows wayyy too many positions while you just lie down doing nothing. Can and will manhandle you however he needs, finding best angles to bring you to your high asap

Woozi : depending on his mood and energy level, he may either perfectly service-dom you, worshipping you and fucking you hard or it could be just hours of lazy sex and mutual masturbation all night long.

Minghao : he didn't know pillow princess is a separate thing cuz he always thought that men should be doing all the work anyway while their girls should rest back and enjoy the pleasure.

Mingyu : something about you just being a pillow princess makes him feel more powerful in the bed in a good way. to do all the work for you and just let you lay back like the princess you really are. an absolute woman-pleaser.

Seokmin : the king of lovemaking. he is so gentle and caring for you while fucking you hard enough for you to enjoy it thoroughly without making it too slow or too vanilla for your taste.

Seungkwan: he loves missionary anyways, so this is a big turn-on for him. he loves railing you slowly as your bodies connect together, hands and lips appreciating every sliver of your skin. he'd be subby at times, but will somehow manage to do so while being on top of you.

Vernon : absolute service dom. makes him a little proud of the way he has you writhing and moaning all by himself. sometimes when he wants you to ride him, hell just plop you on top of him and hold your hips as he fucks upwards in you and you don't even have to put the effort of holding your own weight up.

Dino : this simp will do anything for you. you just want to lie back and relax and let him do all the work? will gladly do so. will make you come twice or thrice just in the first round without having you to move at all from where you slept during the start.

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tzuberry · 9 months

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(cute) things zerobaseone maknae line do as your boyfriend ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

pairing shen quanrui (ricky), kim gyuvin, park gunwook, han yujin + gn reader⠀⠀⠀details fluff, established relationship, bulletpoint

cw none ⠀⠀⠀wc 410, 418, 505, 462 (1,795 overall)⠀⠀⠀reading time 12 minutes

note HELLOOOO i havent posted a fic since july 15th and that was my first fic ever on this account omg... thank u for all the notes on my other post LIKE i didnt expect so much + thank you for 90 followers!! also i might start writing for tiot and evnne if i have time 🫡 likes are reblogs are appreciated if u can 💟

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ricky 리키

lets you play with his hair

i think ricky is honestly extremely particular with his hair, and especially who gets to touch it

his hair isn’t very visibly damaged despite getting it dyed frequently / basically not having black hair since he was probably fifteen years old (and he’s nineteen now, so that says something) so he has to take good care of it not to have it fried off

there were stories about him during bopeul where they said they always saw him fully ready with perfectly styled hair whenever he left his room, too

like i’m not even kidding he has to care for his hair a whole lot or by now he could’ve been bald i’m sorry

when his friends—mainly gyuvin—try to play with his hair or comb their fingers through it, ricky allows it but is not that pleased because he put effort into styling his hair and doesn’t want it to get messed up

gyuvin jokingly whines a little, but is over it after a few seconds

when ricky started dating you, although he thoroughly knew you and almost all of your habits and mannerisms, he didn’t think you would be into playing with his hair

you’re hanging out, watching a movie at your apartment while your head is rested on his shoulder when he feels your fingers suddenly brush through the strands of his hair

he turns to look at you, partly shocked but also just wondering what you’re planning on doing to his hair

you shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on the tv and not minding him one bit

“what are you doing?” he asks, a little amused

he expects you to reply playfully, to exchange banter or something like that

but instead, you say, “your hair is really soft, you know,” as you proceed to curl a portion with your finger acting as the curling iron

ricky quite literally folded that day... now he lets you do whatever you want with his hair

you can braid it, curl it, whatever

he doesn’t mind as long as it’s you, even if he spent nearly an hour fixing it this morning

you’re in a cafe talking to gyuvin and gunwook, sitting at the other side of the table when you lift your arm to twirl ricky’s hair, him not remotely flinching at the contact

gyuvin is pleasantly surprised to witness this sight

“you don’t let me do that,” he sulks, aimed at ricky

your boyfriend scoffs. “you’re not [name].”

gyuvin 규빈

always texts you + makes sure you’ve eaten

okay i think i’ve seen a lot of people say this already idk but i think it’s soooo true

gyuvin texts you excessively

like. about anything

there was one instance when his little brother had a crush on a girl, and gyuvin literally went to you for help and his brother didn’t even have an inkling of what was happening

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): [NAME] MY LITTLE BROTHER... is... growing up :(

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he used to be so small i could put him in my pocket and now

yn: what happened???

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): he LIKES A GIRL. who told him it was okay to get a girlfriend? at his toddler age??

yn: gyuvin i love you but we started dating when We were his age

and then he continued to ask you for advice on how to help his brother get the girl he liked

there’s more instances of him oversharing his brother’s life with you, but that ends there

he also buys you snacks all the time

even if you don’t want it. even if you verbally, very clearly, straightforwardly tell him you’re not the tiniest bit hungry

he’s basically your mother oml

he makes those little snack baggies for you to take

before you both graduated, gyuvin would bring you lunch. it didn’t just stop at snacks

he would ask his mom to help him cook for you

and he’d make it all cute and stuff like shaping the rice to be your favorite character

he’d pack it to school and give it to you in the morning. omg

mixing those two things together, you get “have you eaten yet” texts all the time

it’s two pm, and you were so stuck while helping a friend that you regrettably forgot to eat lunch. ‘it’s okay,’ you assure yourself, ‘i had a late breakfast’

gyuvin texts you, asking the usual “have you eaten lunch????” and you lie and say yes

and then your phone rings and you know you can’t avoid it anymore because he can see through your voice when you lie

from the speaker of your phone, gyuvin’s voice is unbelievably attractive—but you choose to ignore that fact for now

“[name],” he deadpans. “be honest. have you eaten?”

choosing to accept defeat, you exhale deeply. “no.”

gyuvin suddenly hangs up and only a text is left on your screen

gyuvin (DO NOT REPLY): i’m coming over in. like 30 minutes i have to ask my mom to help me cook

gunwook 건욱

teaches you how to dance

gunwook is SO good at dancing it’s so crazy

i love watching him on stage because he’s the best performer ever. like he seems to genuinely enjoy it and i hope he never loses that love for dancing / singing / rapping

you on the other hand..... you could be good at dancing too, just definitely not as good as gunwook

so whenever your scheduled dates are interrupted by his extracurriculars at school, you decide to tag along with him, if the members of his clubs don’t mind (which they usually don’t)

one of his extracurriculars is the dance team

and most of the time, when your preplanned dates are cancelled because of an extracurricular he has lined up for him, it is almost always dance

so you end up following him to the practice room, silently watching him in the corner so as to not obstruct their view of the mirror by sitting directly in front of them

his eyes light up with the flame of passion you adore so much, and you’re so content that even if your date is cancelled because of this, you’re not annoyed and you still get to indirectly spend some time with him by spectating him as he does what he likes

in the short breaks that he gets, he takes the opportunity to sit beside you on the floor and ask about your day

when the practice session ends, he asks if it’s okay with you if he stays to polish up the routine, to which you say yes and offer to stay with him because everyone else has started to leave

after a while, he grows tired and plops down next to you

gunwook chuckles. “i’m sorry for cancelling our date and making you stay with me.”

“it’s alright, i like watching you dance.” you smile

he abruptly stiffens up, irises reflecting the light, making his eyes glow excitedly. “do i dance well? what do you think?”

you giggle. “you dance very well. a lot better than i can, for sure.”

“mhm, yeah?” he grins widely, and you know what he’s going to do

gunwook jumps up on his feet, extending his hand out to you to help you get up

“you just need a little help.” he nods proudly. “you’re lucky i’m your boyfriend.”

you take his hand, and he leads you to the center of the room and he starts to dance with you ballroom style (???) like the waltz and stuff

he guides your arms over his shoulder to circle his neck, and his hands rest on your waist and then he starts counting, “4... 3... 2... 1... like this,” as he takes a singular step in different directions, encouraging you to mirror his movements

you almost trip, but you tightly cling on to his shoulders before you can fall

gunwook laughs. “enough dancing for today?”

“yes, please,” you agree, letting your body fall forwards into a hug with him

“alright. if you’re not that tired, are you still up for that date?”

yujin 유진

(tries to) initiate / enjoys physical touch

yujin doesn’t seem like his love language is physical touch.... i know gyuvin does it a lot to him and he kinda pretends to not like it but it’s so endearing and i sooo believe he deep down loves it

it’s the same with you, but he’s the one intiating it

he never thought he liked skinship all that much, because he would even jokingly say it pestered him a little at times when gyuvin would dote on him

but when it came to you, and when you first started dating, he was itching to hold your hand

it was so new to him because he never craved for anyone’s physical affection before

all his older friends like gyuvin and gunwook would always just.... initiate skinship for him and he thought he didn’t like it but

suddenly you come along, and you don’t even try to hold his hand

he thought couples were supposed to hold hands?? and hug??

but you’re not budging and it’s so frustrating

while walking you home from school like usual, as you tell him about your day, he tries to gather the courage to intertwine your hands

it doesn’t work, and he’s left with cold hands as he stares at you enter your front door

“next time,” he whispers to no one but the wind

next time comes and still... he’s too nervous to hold your hand

the distance between your palms is less than four inches, and all he has to do is take the leap—besides, nothing could go that wrong. you like him and he likes you

he purposely bumps the back of his hand with yours, but doesn’t actually take your hand in his

he awkwardly rubs his nape, unsure of what to do now

your brows knit together, as you’re now aware of yujin’s weird behavior

“yujin?” you tug on his uniform sleeve. “is something wrong?”

“no! nothing’s wrong,” he quickly denies, “don’t worry about it.”

“okay... can i see your hand, though?” you request, and it successfully confuses him because why do you want to see his hand?

he obliges, giving it to you palm up when you lace your fingers with his

“i’ve noticed you trying to hold my hand since last week,” you say, giggling. “i was waiting for you to do it, but i guess you’re too shy.”

“i’m not that shy,” yujin defends, looking down at your interlocked hands... ‘this is a good feeling,’ he thinks

you nod passively. “it’s fine. it’s one of the reasons why i like you.” you swing both your hands back and forth in the space between you

yujin doesn’t try to retort, only relishing the feeling of your hand in his

skinship isn’t so bad... maybe he could get used to this.

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lev1hei1chou · 2 months

Text

Orange Peel Theory

Gojo x reader, Nanami x reader (individually) Genre: Orange. Words: 630 Synopsis: Orange peel theory Masterlist

You sat on the kitchen island, a pile of oranges in front of you and a mischievous glint in your eyes. You had seen the latest social media trend of asking people to peel oranges for you, and you couldn't resist trying it out on your boyfriend.

"Hey, Satoru," you called out, a subtle smile playing on your lips. "Can you peel an orange for me?"

He looked up from his phone, his grin widening. "Of course, my dear. Anything for you."

You handed him an orange, fully expecting him to play along. Gojo took the orange and began peeling it, but instead of doing it the normal way, he started creating cute patterns on the peel. Hearts, stars, and even a smiley face adorned the orange peel. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics.

After a few minutes, you decided to leave the kitchen to enjoy the sunny weather outside. "I'll be back in a bit," you declared.

Gojo winked, still peeling away. "Take your time, sweetheart."

When you returned, you were greeted by the citrusy aroma of freshly peeled oranges. To your surprise, there were not just one or two, but a whole array of them neatly arranged on a plate. Gojo sat there with a proud expression, a twinkle in his eyes.

"Ta-da! I hope you like my masterpiece," Gojo said, presenting the plate to you.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight his creativity. "Wow, baby! You really went all out."

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Well, when Gojo Satoru does something, he does it with style."

You picked up one of the oranges, appreciating the effort he had put into making them special. "Thank you, love. You always know how to make everything more fun."

He grinned, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the cheek. "Anything for you, my dear. Now, let's feast on these."

And so, the two of you spent the afternoon enjoying the sweet taste of oranges. Satoru Gojo sure knew how to make even the most normal tasks better.

You and Kento Nanami were spending a lazy Sunday afternoon together at your shared apartment. The atmosphere was calm and comfortable, with the soft hum of the air conditioner in the background. You found yourself craving something refreshing, and the pile of oranges on the kitchen counter caught your eye. Quickly, your mind went to the new social media trend. You knew Nanami would do anything for you, but still you decided to test it out.

"Hey, love," you called out from the living room, "could you peel some oranges for me?"

Nanami looked up from his paperwork, his expression serious as always. "Sure, I can do that."

You handed him an orange, expecting a straightforward peeling process. Nanami approached the task at hand with precision, his movements methodical. He peeled the orange so carefully that you couldn't help but watch in awe.

As he handed you the perfectly peeled orange, he spoke in his usual composed manner, "There you go."

You couldn't resist teasing him a bit, "Wow, baby, that's quite the skill. Are you sure you haven't been practicing your fruit-peeling techniques in secret?"

He quirked an eyebrow and looked at you, with a hint of amusement in his eyes. "I assure you, it's a basic skill. Efficiency is key in every aspect of life."

You couldn't help chuckle at his seriousness but appreciated the effort he put into such a simple task. "Thank you, Kento. You're unexpectedly good at this."

Nanami nodded, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. You fed him an orange, which he accepted almost instantly.

You continued enjoying the peeled oranges together, savoring the quiet moments and appreciating Nanami's hidden talents. This might have been a simple act, but it was one that showed the silent love that Nanami always had for you.

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ddarker-dreams · 5 months

Text

play fighting — chrollo lucilfer.

Hot cocoa is a staple when cooler weather starts setting in.

By your reckoning, it could find a place on every tier of Maslow's hierarchy of needs. A warm, decadent cup with wisps of steam rising from the swirling surface. This mouthwatering mental image is what led you to the kitchenette. Dutifully following the package’s instructions, you rip into the chocolatey package by the serrated edge and get to work.

All the while, a pair of inquisitive eyes track your every movement. You can’t imagine why the sight of you in fluffy pajamas pulling milk from the fridge has Chrollo’s rapt attention. He’s leaning against the counter, sipping on his own concoction. Earl gray tea, if the scent is of any indication.

Your masterpiece is almost complete. Now, for the finishing touch — marshmallows.

Alas. You’ve encountered a problem. The marshmallows are stored in a cabinet that evades your reach. To make matters worse, Chrollo has perched himself right where you’d need to climb up. Should you list clairvoyance among his many capabilities? Logically, you know that feat eludes him, but your suspicions remain.

“Is something the matter, dear?”

Ah, you forgot that you’ve been silently squinting at him while the gears in your head spin. Round and round they go, never producing a viable solution.

“No, not at all,” you dismiss. His gaze never leaves yours, even as he takes another sip of his drink. You can see it in his eyes, that ‘oh, really?’ look. You don’t appreciate that look, for you receive it often, thanks to your shenanigans.

“Your drink’s getting cold,” he points out.

Very astute of him.

The way you see it, this can go a few ways. One, you could ask for his help in procuring your garnish. You could, but… he regards you with such bemusement, finding pleasure in every little thing you do. You’re tired of the court jester role. Asking him for something almost always guarantees that you’ll be putting on a metaphorical cap and bells.

So you cling to your pride. You stand close enough for your shoulder to brush against his, as your target necessitates such sacrifice. Straining while on your tiptoes, your fingertips brush against the damnable cabinet handle, gold and mocking. Vigilant as your efforts are, they’re ultimately fruitless. Your prize remains just out of reach.

Huffing, you turn to face Chrollo, who has no right to look as innocent as he does.

“Could you…” you trail off and shoo him with your hands. You hope that gets the message across.

“Can I ask why? I feel perfectly content here.”

Of course he does.

You’re unsure what spurs on your next action. Pettiness? Irritation? Righteous anger? Who knows. You rest both your palms flat against his bicep and push, as if he were nothing more than an inconvenient obstacle, which, in truth, is a fitting description. He doesn’t so much as budge. The full weight of your body and strength combined amounts to nothing. You can’t comprehend how hard his muscles feel beneath his shirt, it’s like you’re touching a wall.

Although it’s quiet, you hear it. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips.

Your equilibrium is thrown into chaos as you go from your nice, secure spot on the floor to being lifted high. Two large hands settle right above your hips, holding you in place. Your reflexes kick in and you squirm. Fortunately, Chrollo’s grasp doesn’t falter. You realize what he’s getting at and make quick work of opening the cabinet and getting your stupid marshmallows. He brings you down. You only relax when your soles touch solid ground.

Chrollo gives your hips a playful squeeze.

“Try again,” he whispers near your ear.

You want nothing more than to scamper off, but his body envelops you, cutting off any escape. You’re caught between a rock and a hard place, clutching a bag of marshmallows, your Hello Kitty slippers askew.

You sigh.

Life certainly has its challenges.

Should you start with elbowing him or stomping down on his feet…?

#this isn't even play fighting. darling is ready to throw hands for real #yandere chrollo x reader #hxh x reader #chrollo brainrot #scara and blade will be next .#my stuff

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jaylaxies · 9 months

Text

SUBSCRIBER BENEFITS

PAIRING: camboy!sunghoon × fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex, excessive usage of nicknames, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, breeding, slight bondage, mentions of obsession, just smut overall.

WC: 2865 words

SYNOPSIS: sunghoon is the prettiest boy you had ever laid your eyes on and you’d do anything to have him all to (in) yourself.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! I'm back with another fic! it’s just a really messy thought i’ve tried to put into words! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33

He’s beautiful. Soft pink lips which stretched into the sweetest smile a man could provide you with. Sweet nectar dripped from his honey brown eyes. His supple skin resembling porcelain as you watch the man show off his abs on the monitor of your PC screen, the lights being that of dim red colour, only accentuating his muscles, which flexed with apiece movement of him.

It was Park Sunghoon—your favourite and the only camboy that piqued your interest. He was truly a work of art, displaying his perfectly sculpted body for everyone to see.

As for you, you’re the textbook definition of a spoiled rich girl who paid Sunghoon more than anyone in their sane mind would in just a single livestream, which didn’t even provide you with a visual of anything other than his face and torso.

Despite him stroking his cock smugly, he made sure to hide it from the view of the camera, which drove you insane to the point you were ready to throw all your money his way, becoming his top subscriber.

A moan left your lips, hearing him breathe out filthy words which were always effective in getting you off, the phallic shoved deep in your cunt only being a help to you. Sending him another big tip in hopes of him acknowledging you, you waited to see him smirk at the notification, not caring about the other comments flooding through his window.

“That’s a generous sum you’ve sent me, kitten,” he chuckled, the nickname making your pussy flutter, “no requests from your side, darling?” He asked, smirking subtle enough for it to look attractive.

That’s what you oh so obsessively want—his attention on you.

So you type out as fast as you can.

yourkittenxo69: a private session with you, that’s what i want

Your request was bold, almost being perceived as a demand, which only intrigued him.

Sunghoon never did private shows, or gave attention to any particular person in his lives. Despite it all, he was the most popular camboy on the site, surpassing everyone by just showing them his body, paired with his dirty talk. You hated how everyone wanted him, especially when you wanted him all to yourself.

He licked his bottom lip while reading your comment, “Sorry, kitten. I don’t do private shows.”

yourkittenxo69: I’ll pay you

You typed out with a smirk, gasping when the dildo in you started vibrating just how you liked it, then you proceeded to type out the amount of money you were willing to pay.

To some, it would take years to earn that amount of money but to you, it was your monthly pocket money, which you didn’t bother spending on Sunghoon.

Naturally, the shock was evident on his face because no one in their right mind would offer someone such a huge sum for a private show. It almost felt like free money to Hoon, and so he smiled, tongue tracing his fang-like canines.

“You got yourself a deal, kitten.”

It was the first time you’d seen Sunghoon covered up, clad in white button up with the top three buttons left open. With his hair parted to the side, you could get a clear view of his face, but your eyes were focused on his arms, courtesy of him rolling up the sleeves.

Given that you couldn’t show him your face, you resorted to typing out fast, yet you put efforts into wearing the newest addition to your lingerie set even though it wouldn’t be visible to him.

“You have me all to yourself now,” he spoke up, tone cocky with how much you wanted his attention.

yourkittenxo69: and that’s how it should be. Undress for me pretty boy

He scoffed out a laugh, knowing exactly that he needs to cater to your wishes, “as your wish, kitten,” he whispered.

Your attention was immediately captured by his slender fingers, which took their time to unbutton the shirt, providing you with the clear view of his torso, leaving him in nothing but his pants.

The wetness in between your legs growing per second as you pleasured yourself alongside, eyes fixated on the screen.

yourkittenxo69: your pants come off next

He grinned, “why? Wanna see how big my cock is?” He clicked his tongue, “what’s the point, baby? When you can’t even touch me from there,” his smirk was wide.

His voice was condenscending, as if he couldn’t miss a single chance to mock you, which only fucked with your mind to an even greater extent.

yourkittenxo69: just do as i say, you’re getting paid for it

A laugh escaped his lips as his fingers filled with the button on his jeans, opening it and sliding out of his jeans in an agonizingly slow manner, leaving him with his boxers and big imprint of his cock, a strangled moan leaving your mouth at the sight.

“Like it, kitten?” He raised his brows, self aware of the effect his body had on people.

You had to resort to using your vibrator for a release, but more than that, you wanted to meet Sunghoon in the flesh, to have his cock buried inside your leaking cunt.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was intrigued, his own mind forcing him to break rules for you. Why? Because he wanted to fuck some sense into your spoiled mind. Maybe, just maybe if you rile him enough, you’ll get exactly what you’re aiming for.

yourkittenxo69: won't show me what’s hidden under your boxers now, pretty boy?

“Why? Do you wanna be fucked dumb with it? Is that what you want, kitten?” He pressed, getting closer to the screen, making your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, but you weren’t the one to give up, pushing his buttons would be the key to your success.

His jaw clenched with each comment you posted, fists forming out of anger.

yourkittenxo69: yeah, won’t you fuck me dumb?

yourkittenxo69: are you scared to show the world your teeny tiny lil cock? Is that why you keep it in?

yourkittenxo69: forget the distance, you can’t even make me cum by fucking me

His voice was scary low as he scoffed, “getting ahead of ourselves now? Oh, kitten, give me your address if you dare instead of sitting behind a scene. I’ll see how you walk when I’m done with you,” he challenged, his slutry tone making you clench around your toy.

That was your plan from the start, however you never expected him to give in this quickly, given that he wasn’t the one to make exceptions, yet he broke all the rules for you.

With a blend of confidence and unadulterated need to have him, you swiftly typed out your address, making his lips turn into a seductive grin.

“See you tomorrow then, kitten.”

He wasn’t sure if it was curiosity or his need to tame your brat ass which led him your way, money was only an addition to it. He spent an unconventional amount of time pondering upon the hasty choices he had made.

He had a total of three things he knew about you, first being the fact that you were an adult, second that you were a female, and third—your address.

Not to mention you were wealthy, his subconscious reminded him.

It was risky, going to a stranger’s place, or in your case, a whole penthouse, yet he wanted to see the person behind the user yourkittexo69 and fuck some sense into her, even though he admit how it certainly would be better if you’d be as appealing to him as you sound bratty in general.

That’s exactly how he found himself in front of your door, dressed in black button up and pants paired with a few chains and rings which completed his look.

“Fuck it.” He rang the bell, waiting for the door to be opened by you, however he was greeted by a woman in what seemed to be working uniforms and hair tied up in a bun.

“Welcome, sir. She’s been expecting you, please head up the stairs,” she acknowledged his presence, getting out of the house as you had ordered her to, for privacy's sake.

Sunghoon thanked the women, eyes wandering around the fully decorated place of yours, each corner screaming wealth and money.

Walking up the stairs, he noticed the big chandelier and a series of paintings lined up right before he reached your room, knocking on the big wooden door twice.

“Come in,” your voice came out muffled due to the thick door, but understandable nevertheless.

Biting his bottom lip, he got inside your room and finally took you in for the first time—his eyes eyebrows raising in the process, a cocky expression taking over his face.

The reason? It was you. The skimpy white lingerie set you wore didn’t leave much to the imagination, adding to that, you had done justice to your username by wearing a collar and cat ears just for the pretty boy in front of you, him noticing the tail only ignited the need to destroy your cunt even further.

Your lips curled up into a sly smile, “didn’t think you’d actually come here, Park Sunghoon,” you mused, seeing him walk straight towards your bed, where you were spread out for him, “guess you really wanna fuck me.”

He didn’t speak a word, getting rid of his shirt as he proceeded to unbutton it. Just the action shut you up, no sign of humour on his face. Despite the spontaneity of this situation, it felt as if the pace was perfect, your desire colliding with reality for once.

Your heart was pounding in your chest, finally witnessing him in front of you.

The night held a distinct allure to it, especially when the candles that you had lit spread the aroma which only aroused you further, making you gulp your nervousness down.

He climbed up the bed, your breath hitching with how he stopped when he was right above you, his nose touching yours as he finally chuckled, “such a pretty face with that bratty mouth, yeah?”

You yelped when he held your wrists above your head, a whimper leaving your mouth as he tied your wrists up with his shirt, “didn’t know you were into this,” you giggled.

In an instant, his fingers were gripping your chin, “did I give you permission to talk?” His condenscending voice sent a shiver down your spine and you felt enthralled for a second before chuckling in his hold.

“Since when do I need your permission—”

The next second, his slender fingers were wrapped around your neck, applying just enough pressure to put his point forward.

“You’re not allowed to fucking talk unless I ask you to,” he seethed out, not missing the excitement in your eyes, “is that clear?”

You looked at him with hooded eyes, a slutry expression taking over your face, “yes, daddy.”

He chuckled, stroking your hair and reaching to play with your cat ears, “y’know what, kitten?” He rasped, scanning your features, “you should be punished for being such a bratty kitten.”

You squealed when he roughly switched up the positions so that you were bent over his lap with his hand groping your ass, the air around you thickening.

Driven by a primal longing, Sunghoon didn’t wait before he started spanking your ass, “count,” he ordered, “this one’s for being a brat.”

“Fuck! One,” you hissed out, biting your lips to conceal a moan.

Another slap, “this one’s for talking back.”

A string of curses left your lips, “t—two!”

The slap resonated in the room, “for cursing.”

You whimpered, pressing your thighs together when he continued his ministrations, starting from one whenever you messed up, finally soothing his large hands over your ass.

“Fucked out already? Oh, baby, I’m just getting started,” he said, sliding his fingers down to meet your soaked panties, he clicked his tongue, “we don’t need this,” he whispered.

“Sunghoon—”

“Shh.” He ripped your panties into two, making your eyes go wide, “that’s not what you call me, kitten,” he rasped, pushing his two fingers into your cunt, the wetness allowing him to slide in easily.

Your head felt dizzy, especially when you couldn’t move your hands or say anything that would make sense. No one’s ever been this way with you—demanding and in control, and he was simply fucking you with his fingers.

Yet, you didn’t want to back down now, “is that the best you can do, daddy?” You mocked him just when you felt your high nearing in hopes of him speeding up.

It resulted in him sliding his fingers out of your pussy much to your dismay, earning a pathetic whine out of you. He easily turned you around, getting on top of you, your body shivering with anticipation as he bent down, his nose caressing your ear as he whispered, “I’d give you my best but bad kittens don’t deserve shit.”

His fingers moved even slower, brushing against your clit in an agonizingly slow pace, “tell me, doll face, do you deserve to be fucked?”

“Y—yes, please! I’ll be good,” you cried out, squirming and bothered at the orgasm denial.

“Doesn’t sound very convincing to me, I guess the kitten doesn’t want it after all,” he chuckled, knowing that you had given up, especially when he pushed you that deep into your sub space, his thumb rubbing featherlight circles on your cunt.

“P—please, daddy! I swear I—oh fuck! I won’t act up anymore, I’ll listen to you, please just—just fuck me!” You whined.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He pulled you closer by your collar, “now, be good and take it all like a good kitten.”

You were too fucked out to notice him getting out of his pants, not once getting a look at his cock. He deliberately prolonged his actions to torment you, just when you were reaching your high with his fingers again, but that wasn’t something he’d allow.

He was swift to remove his fingers from your cunt, his movements deliberate when he positioned himself in front of your pussy, thrusting it all in one go.

The sensation was quite literally exquisite, as if your whole body felt how big he was, lewd voices leaving your lips, eyes rolling back, your toes curling and back arching.

“Daddy—so, so big,” you mumbled mindlessly as he focused on snapping his hips even faster, giving you no time to adjust to his length when he bottomed out, hitting your g-spot seamlessly.

“Yeah? Too big for you, kitten? That’s not what you were saying the other day.” He held your wrists up, eyes focused on your tears of pleasure.

“I—was so wrong, daddy, I’m sorry—” his movements didn’t give you a chance to speak.

Your vulnerable voice only fueled his desire, his movements intensifying when he bent down to suck on your clavicle, paying attention to your neglected tits by pinching them, rolling the nub between his fingers.

“Wanna ruin you,” he groaned, “will make sure you don’t fucking walk,” with another thrust, you found yourself blacking out with how euphoric the feeling of falling apart on his cock was.

But he was far from done with you, not giving you a second to breathe as he striked harder with each thrust of his, making you squirm and scream, your mascara running down your cheeks with your tears and your whole body felt as if it was on fire.

He filled you up with his cum, stuffing you full and yet again, he wasn’t done with you.

He tapped on your cheek twice, making you look at him, “swallow,” he whispered, spitting into your mouth and observing it going down your tongue before you gulped it all.

“Good girl,” he praised, when you reached your high for the second time, your cum turning into a creamy mix inside you.

You felt overstimulated, yet he didn’t stop.

“Look at me, kitten,” he said, holding your chin and you were desperate to convey your impending orgasm again.

You looked his way with dark eyes, almost falling shut when he smashed his lips onto yours, messing up your lipstick, his thumb rubbing your clit again leaving you breathless and dishevelled, panting with need.

You realized how true he was to his words, you knew you won’t be able to walk anymore, or stand up for that matter.

With a mixture of ecstasy and anticipating urgency, your hips met his, your stomach tightening when you finally erupted in a cry, consumed by the intensity of your climax and the feeling of him inside you.

With two seconds of silence, Sunghoon got up, hair messy and lipstick staining his smirking lips as he untied your wrists, “have fun walking around now, kitten.”

He was here to prove a point, nothing more, nothing less.

And when you tried to stand up, miserably falling down with a whine, he only chuckled, sending a wink your way before he dressed up and left.

What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t a punishment, only a push to your obsession with him, which grew even further.

It sure won’t be a one time thing with Park Sunghoon.

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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house-of-lovin · 10 months

Text

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess.

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already.

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it.

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this.

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet.

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand.

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin.

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron.

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks.

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate.

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming.

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?”

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.”

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl.

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long.

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room.

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand.

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face.

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…”

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.”

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.”

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone.

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?”

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud.

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad.

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch.

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy.

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video.

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.”

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.”

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room.

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.”

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall.

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile. “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island.

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug.

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look.

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you.

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?”

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on.

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you.

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.”

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption.

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words.

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking.

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious.

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes.

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

taglist is closed

@alexkolax @ladey @jjsmaybank20 @werewoofrobinbuckley @the-oblivious-writer @fanboy7794 @la-douleur-ne-finit-jamais @zelload @natashadeservedmore @orang3-ish @friedryes @nahnahnahwhat @be-missed @jjuncidio @oksana-moods @theirishmanronan @r-ude @wokethefuxkup @skate-to-breathee @user173781 @frasersgf @justafoolinlove @bring-mecoffee @haughtsauce21 @wheesunsangel @omega-horus @selluequestrian @justalittledissociation @imaloserbby @catswag22 @smjmgko @acutenobody @raven-ss @canceldevvi @sweetaimu @rockwyn @rwndsana @cheesybacon123 @cvluswnt @secretbackrooms @vixen1006 @zhasmindoesntknow @ulicebld @rozmrazaradelfinow @icarly23 @cartierdreamx @thenextdawn @annalestern @noooodlessstuff @vstblrblog @godsfavouritelesbiann

#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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wyvernest · 10 months

Note

would you be able to write something about chubby!reader having body issues and thinks she doesn’t deserve miguel because he’s so sculpted and beautiful, but miguel reminds her how perfect she is? (in whatever way you think is best)

i just love reading these types of fics and they really help boost my confidence 🥹

tysm! <3

hope you like it<3

aphrodite

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: fluff, established relationship, body dysmorphia

summary: you start feeling self conscious right before your date, and miguel isn't having any of it

translations are at the end

Miguel had finally made time to take you out. You are well aware of the fact that he is a busy man, and had decided against pressuring him to abandon his work overtime.

But tonight was for you. He had planned out the perfect date, from the restaurant, reservations, to the tiniest details; what day would be best in terms of weather, your job, and his duties.

To say you were overwhelmed with excitement was an understatement. He had always been so caring and considerate, looking for ways to make you feel valued and appreciated even when time itself stood against his efforts. Finding unadulterated joy in asking you out like it was your first time getting closer to each other over and over again, the 'honeymoon phase' spark never once leaving your relationship, contrary to popular belief.

And so here you are, in your shared home, getting ready for yet another date with the most handsome man you've ever seen.

He's already fully dressed, fixing himself in the mirror. His black suit sits oh-so perfectly on him, hugging the shape of his large back and shoulders, tight enough around his biceps, so that they still bulge through the material when he brings a hand up in his hair to tame some dark strands that had fallen out of place. It accentuates the line of his abdomen, having his large thighs finish off the whole look.

He stands in front of the bedroom mirror, in his striking royal height, the man that ancient Greeks probably had as a muse when they sculpted the ideals of the male body. His dark, cocoa brown hair is brushed back, silky and soft. His perfectly contoured face is dimly lit by the low, warm bedroom lights, his features prominent: the bridge and line of his nose, squinted piercing eyes along with a downright intimidating set of brows His sharp jaw is held up high while he works with his tie, expert hands skillfully experimenting around an array of various knots, pondering upon which fits best.

He truly is quite the sight, you melt at the tableau before you, holding back a sigh seasoned with nothing but the very heights of being irrevocably enamoured.

His whole presence screams strength and mature dominance, with a hint of incontestable luxury.

Resuming your own outfit, your own body still only adorned in nothing but a pair of panties and a bra, you head to the closet for the one dress you have been imagining yourself in for the whole week since he offered you the invitation. You couldn’t be more excited to finally try it on and admire yourself with it, have people look your way while wearing it, with an arm hooked around the one and only Miguel O’Hara.

Putting it on and adjusting its stretchy fabric over your curves, your smile starts to fade. This isn’t what it looked like the first time I tried it on, you mentally conclude, and the more you look at it, the more things you wish you hadn’t noticed. You pull at the material, the hem, the sides, the neckline, anything you can think of that maybe, just maybe, could fix it. Panic starts to drip into your nerves, what will you do now if it just won’t look good? Screw it and go out with it anyway, and then feel all eyes on you for the rest of the evening? What will people think when they see you, merely decent, next to him? And otherwise, what other option is there? To pick some other dress that can’t possibly be more appropriate for the occasion, since you had bought this one specifically for the place you’re going, and still not look the part?

Your breathing starts to quicken as you keep fumbling with the textile around your shape, attention half directed to the open wardrobe, scanning every shelf and hanger for a second option.

Suddenly, the floor creaks, bringing the echo of incoming footsteps. And there he is, standing behind you, hands on your tense shoulders. You almost despise the image before you; his impeccable, calm and stoic image, next to you, discouraged and deeply insecure in evident comparison.

“What were you thinking about just now?” his words river down over the shell of your ear on a hot breath that has shivers shot down your spine.

“Nothing, I’m getting ready”, you cover it up in a sing-song voice, not wanting to dig deeper into letting him know that you don’t deem yourself pretty enough for him, let alone expect him to find you more attractive than you do yourself. Unfortunately, he’s too smart for your little diversion.

“Don’t lie to me.”, his tone serious, voice deep. His eyes rank up and down your body in the mirror, and you feel an acute need to just disappear. “Que guapa.”

He presses a kiss to your temple, and you feel rosy heat rise to your face.

Your mouth speaks before you think.

“Does it look good?”, he senses the hesitancy in your voice.

“Baby, you’d look like a goddess wearing a potato sack.” he speaks matter-of-factly, as if his statement equals water is wet, the honesty in his declaration evident with the speed with which the words left his mouth. You can’t help but let a giggle break through your disconcerted face, surprised with the association.

“What, like Marilyn Monroe?”

“No, mi alma, like you.” He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you back into his embrace as you look at eachother in the reflection before you. His expression softens, visibly relaxed and happy to have you close to him.

“These curves, every part of you, I know them as I know myself.” His palms slide over your hips, and all the way back up to your shoulders, effectively chasing away any hint of doubt and worry, cleansing you of anything that isn’t love.

“Eres la mujer de mis sueños.” He bends down, his lips reaching the crook of your neck. “No hay nadie como tú."

You let yourself fall back into his tempting embrace, knowing that he’s exploiting your weakness for him speaking Spanish so low and deep into the vulnerable skin of your pulse point, completely forgetting about the date and the dress.

“And if you don’t like the dress, I’ll gladly rip it off.” He exhibits his talons as a warning, the curved edges of the claws grazing your bare shoulders intently. “If anything, the dress isn’t good enough to be worn by you.”

translations:

que guapa - how beautiful

mi alma - my soul

eres la mujer de mis sueños - you're the woman of my dreams

no hay nadie como tú - there is no one like you

a/n: again, if any native speakers see anything wrong with my Spanish please let me know🤍

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader

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sister-lucifer · 11 days

Text

Eager Hands On Soft Flesh

Ticci Toby x Chubby!Transmasc!Reader

My half of a trade with @pompeiisystem !

Genre: Smut

Summary: After you let slip that you’ve got your fair share of insecurities about your body, Toby simply can’t pass up the opportunity to appreciate every bit of you.

Content/Warnings: Body worship, Reader’s body is focused on but I specifically chose NOT to use the word “fat,” Reader is insecure about their weight but Toby is there for reassurance, fucking against the kitchen counter, unprotected penis in trans masc vagina sex, fingering, oral sex (reader receiving), messy pussy eating, cumming inside, praise, use of “cunt,” “pussy,” and similar variations to describe Reader’s genitalia, Toby has a dick piercing but it’s only briefly mentioned

“Toby, be honest, do you think this outfit would look better if I…you know, lost some weight?”

The sudden lurch of his body followed by sputtering and coughing as he chokes on his drink makes you jump. Your eyes widen a bit as you watch him struggle to regain his composure, wiping his mouth and trying not to spit. His tongue clicks involuntary, neck jerking in all directions as he tries to process what he’s just heard.

“Wh— W-What the hell are you t-talkin’ about?” He stammers, speaking through the discomfort of off brand soda in his windpipe.

“I just mean…you know,” You reply, suddenly feeling sheepish as you look down at the crimson sweater keeping snug against your top half, “I was just thinking…maybe I should—“

“Did I s-say something?” Toby says quickly. He rises from where he was sitting at the kitchen table, wiping his chin with his sleeve one last time. “Did I m-make you—shhhrk!—make you— m-make you think that you h-had to?”

“Oh no, of course not!” You’re fast to reply, gently putting your hands on his arms and giving a small squeeze. “No, no, it’s not you at all, I promise. I was just thinking—“

“W-Well you shouldn’t d-do that anymore.”

You sigh softly, moving your hands down go grasp his. You run your thumbs over his knuckles as his fingers tense and twitch despite his best efforts to hold onto you, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Toby, come on, I didn’t mean anything bad about you. I’m just saying…I want you to be honest with me, that’s all.”

You look down at yourself, at the knit sweater and jeans you’ve put on. They’re comfortable, yes, but there’s something about the way you look in them that just doesn’t add up. You shouldn’t have expected to look exactly like the model on the website, really. You didn’t think you did.

You’re starting to feel foolish for spending your money on this. It was silly, really, to be so excited about something as simple as a cute sweater, but at the time you thought you couldn’t live without it. You have plenty of other perfectly good outfits in your closet. Really, what reason did you have to think—

You gasp softly when Toby suddenly pulls you in, ripping you from your thoughts with hands on your waist, gently grabbing at your love handles and pushing you back against the counter. His lips find your neck in a split second.

You moan softly, the sensation surprising but not unpleasant. You grasp at the back of his sweatshirt with one hand and run your fingers through his hair with the other. He groans under his breath when you tug just a bit.

“Please, baby,” He whispers against your skin, “P-Please, let me love on y-you just a-a bit…”

“Toby, what are you—“

“Nothing, baby, I-I’m not doing a-anything…Just l-let me…”

Your cheeks are getting hot fast. You make no effort to push him away, but you can’t help getting flustered.

“Toby, c’mon, you don’t have to do all this…”

“I-I want to, though,” He says quickly, starting to nip and suck at your neck between kisses, “I’m not v-vvv-very good with words, I-I…I just—j-just wanna show you—shhh!—s-show you what you f-feel like…to m-me…”

He pauses with a sigh, pulling back slowly. He looks up at you almost hesitantly, an expression you rarely see on his face. He’s always the first to act on an impulse, rarely ever thinking twice about anything; what’s slowing him down now?

“…i-if you’ll let me, I-I mean.”

The words come out far too gentle for Toby, and it makes you melt against him a bit. He’s always so eager to get his hands on your body, but something in him is sensing something unsure in you. You look back into the mossy color of his hazel eyes with contemplation.

You can’t stop the gentle smile that spreads over your face.

You pull him down to give him a slow kiss, and he happily returns the gesture. When you pull back again, there’s no hiding the anticipation on his face as he awaits your answer.

“…Of course, Toby.”

He takes only a split second to process the words before suddenly he’s roughly suckling and nipping at the flesh of your neck. You yelp in surprise, but not discomfort. You bite your lip as you grip his hair, trying to keep him against you.

His hands freely wander your body, moving up and down your sides before slipping beneath your sweater. You suck in a breath when he gives an affectionate squeeze to your love handles, fingers greedily grabbing at the warmth beneath your skin. He groans as he feels you, entire body shuddering at the sensation of you beneath his hands.

He moves so quickly, as if he’s worried you’ll disappear at any moment, like some invisible clock is counting down and the moment is reaches zero you’ll fade away. He grabs at you and sucks at your neck like he’s feeding on you, like your body heat is the only thing sustaining him. He needs you, and you can feel it in every touch.

He pushes your sweater up to your chest before hands slide down towards the waistband of your jeans. Twitching fingertips fiddle with the button and then the fly, yanking down the zipper with such speed you were worried it would break. He pulls the jeans down around your ankles, not bothering to pull them off before moving on to your underwear.

He looks up at you, fingers tapping anxiously at the waistband. He licks his dry lips, mouthing a silent ‘Can I?’

“Yes, yes, please,” You reply without hesitation, nodding quickly. You gasp softly when he tugs your underwear down to your knees, exposing your now soaked pussy to the cool air and making you shudder. He can’t stop the breathy moan that slips from his lips at the sight.

“S-So fucking beautiful…” He mutters through crooked teeth as he lowers himself slowly. Normally he would be eager to drop to his knees and service you, but just this once he’s taking his time. He’s methodical as he leaves a warm trail of kisses down your belly, letting his lips linger for a long few seconds before he moves down just a bit more. You watch with bated breath as he makes his way down until there’s no further to go.

“…You know I-I love this-sss-s pretty tummy, don’t you?” He mumbles against your skin, looking up into your eyes. Your heart skips a bit when you nod. He doesn’t seem satisfied.

“Say it.”

“…I…I know, Toby.”

One corner of his mouth briefly quirks up into a smirk before an involuntary jerk of his neck and scrunching of his nose pulls it back down again..

He pauses then, eyes widening slightly with something you can only describe as admiration as his eyes trail down to your sweet cunt, wetting his lips on instinct.

You don’t have a second to wonder what he’s doing before suddenly his warm mouth engulfs your cunt. In a split second it seems all semblance of patience has left his body. You cry out, throwing your head back as your back arches. You instinctively push your hips against him, grinding into his mouth.

“T-Toby—!”

Your fingers find his untamed thatch of brown hair in an instant, gripping tightly just how he likes. He moans as you call out his name, his voice sending vibrations through your cunt. He’s an excitable, messy eater, lapping at your cunt with need and not bothering to try and hide the wet squelching sounds his mouth makes as his tongue slides in an out of you, lips curling around the mound of your pussy and the tip of his crooked nose bumping your swollen clit.

“Fuck…mmh…” He groans under his breath, not once losing contact or pulling away, “Y-You have no idea how m-much— m-mumble, mumble— much I-I love this boycunt…t-tastes sooo, s-so— so sweet…could just…just— j-just eat it for hours…”

He’s slurring his words already, speech messy and scattered at the words carelessly flow between his lips and down his chin like water over the edge of a cliff. His mouth is already soaking, drool leaking from his mouth and gash combined with your slick arousal.

You squeal when you feel his two of his fingers prod at your entrance, anxiously pushing through and wasting no time reaching as deep as they can. Your entire body tenses and your back arches involuntarily against the counter as his digits twitch inside of you, slipping in and out at an excited pace.

“C-Careful, Toby,” You stammer. He gives only a quick nod in reply before pushing in a third finger, the tip of his tongue now flicking at your clit. A thick mixture of his own spit and the juices leaking from your cunt is dripping down his chin and running down his neck.

The hand not nestled in his hair is bracing you against the counter, gripping the marble hard as you struggle to keep yourself steady. You’re resisting the urge to just collapse with each shockwave Toby’s tongue and fingers send through your throbbing pussy. His free hand is grabbing at your sides and hips, half trying to keep you up and half groping you for his own pleasure. He spreads his fingers out inside of you, stretching you as much as he can as he readies you to take his cock.

When he finally pulls away you’re struggling to breathe, chest heaving with heavy gasps as you recover. He stands back up to his full height, towering over you and not even bothering to wipe his mouth before he captures your lips in a heated kiss. You could care less about the feeling of your own viscous arousal against your lips; there’s no room for disgust in your lust-filled brain.

Toby’s panting as well when he pulls away, licking his lips before speaking.

“You s-sss-see how sweet you t-taste?”

You mimic his gesture, tongue darting out to lick over your own lips. You shyly nod, and a crooked smile spreads across his face.

“C’mon, b-bend over f’me,” He says, giving your side an encouraging pat.

You happily comply, laying yourself over the counter and arching your back a bit. You shiver at the familiar sound of his belt unbuckling, then his fly coming down, and then that wonderful sigh of relief he lets out when he pushes down his jeans and boxers in one go. Not even a second later his tip is pressing against your cunt.

He leans over you, nuzzling into your neck and wrapping his arms around your middle.

“You ready?” He whispers, and you nod without thinking.

He immediately pushes inside of you, groaning into your ear as you tense, nails digging into the flesh of your palm as his cock stretches you. The bulbous head manages to bully its way into your cunt, and you can feel the veins on his shaft as they brush against your walls. The crooked Prince Albert piercing adoring his tip scrapes against your cervix and pulls a drawn out moan from your glistening lips.

Toby curses to himself as he bottoms out, finally pushing in as far as he can go. You can feel his cock twitching with need inside of you as it acclimates to your tight hole. He’s clinging to you like his life depends on it, fingers pressing into the ample flesh of your soft tummy and sides.

A choked noise claws its way out of your throat as he slowly pulls back, your cunt squelching and dripping as his cock recedes to the head, pausing for a moment before pushing back in. You cry out with a broken call of his name, your plump body pushed hard into the counter that’s currently keeping you from collapsing into a heap on the floor beneath your lover.

Toby’s lanky body practically engulfs yours as he ruts into you over and over again, slowly but surely getting faster with each thrust as he faces less and less resistance from your pussy, the slick canal gradually being molded to the shape of his cock. He’s huffing and moaning in your ear, not at all shy or ashamed to be vocal for you.

“Nngh…I-I don’t think I’ll—Fuck! Shit!—I’ll ever— e-ev-vvv-ver get used to t-this perfect fff-fuckin’ boycunt…Goddamn…!”

He’s grabbing all over your body, hands moving feverishly between your chest and stomach and hips as he squeezes every inch of hot skin he can find.

“Sooo fucking h-handsome,” He sighs in your ear, “I’m s-so fucking lucky that I-I get to— t-to love you like this-sss-s…”

He can hardly get the words out between his desperate mewls, needy sounds that he couldn’t keep at bay if he tried. He’s drooling again, unable to focus on muscle control as his base instincts take over, screaming at him to just forget everything else and fuck you like you deserve to be fucked.

You reach up to gently push his cheek against your own, pressing a kiss to his jaw and making him whine. He turns his head to kiss you once more, tongue pushing past your lips and allowing you to taste the last remnants of your soggy cunt on his tongue.

His cock reaches every bit of your insides, pushing in so far you swear you can feel it in your stomach. With each thrust he only speeds up more and more, rambling on and on about how amazing you feel and how badly he needs this perfect boypussy.

“So beautiful,” He chokes out, eyes starting to roll back in his head, “S-So fucking beautiful…all thick and p-perfect…fuck, a-ah—!”

He’s starting to lose his pace, and fast. One of his hands slowly slides down your stomach, his middle finger pawing at your clit. You cry out at the unexpected stimulation and your knees nearly buckle beneath you, prompting Toby to tighten his grip on you just in case you can’t stand yourself up anymore. He rubs your clit in soft circles, just the way you’d taught him all that time ago. Just the way you like.

“Nngh—! T-Toby,” You stammer, barely able to get the words out, “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna…!”

“I-I know,” He replies in a rush, “I-I wanna—want it! want it!—w-wanna feel you cum around me…p-please, please…?”

God, how can you deny him when he begs like that?

You start to push back against him in time with his thrusts, assisting him in sheathing himself inside of you and savoring the wonderful fullness. Your legs are shaking obviously now, and you have to fight to keep yourself up even with Toby’s help. He’s not too steady himself.

He’s started to rub your clit a bit harder, no longer able to focus on keeping his pace steady with his fingers nor his thrusts. The constant shifts in pressure and speed are only pushing you to your release faster.

He’s whining endlessly in your ear, slurring his words as he drones on and on about how handsome you are, how much he loves you, how grateful he is that he’s the only one who gets to fuck this precious little cunt.

He’s barely keeping time now, any sense of rhythm forgotten as he desperately ruts into you over and over again. He’s almost at his limit, not far behind you.

“Toby,” You gasp, “Please, I-I’m gonna—!”

“Do it,” He growls, “D-Do it, please, lemme f-fff-feel that pussy tighten around m-me…”

Just his words, the clear desperation and need in his voice, is enough to push you over the edge. You manage one last cry of his name before you cum around his twitching cock, cunt squeezing and convulsing as you struggle to cope with the wave of pleasure washing over you with more force than you were ready for.

Toby curses under his breath and sputters out what you think is a warning, but you can barely hear him with the way your head is spinning. That’s what makes it all the more jarring when suddenly he’s releasing inside of you, the fullness of his cock replaces with the thick warmth of his seed spilling into you deeper than you ever thought possible. He groans as his thrusting lazily slows to a stop, leaving you both sweaty and panting.

He releases his death grip on you, but keeps his arms around your middle. He nuzzles against your cheek with a sigh. He shifts slightly, and you cringe a bit when you feel some of his cum dripping out of you.

“You’re s-so beautiful baby,” He mumbles against your skin, clearly just as fucked out as you are, “So fucking…p-perfect…my h-ha-handsome boy…”

You give him a tired smile, pressing a little kiss to his warm cheeks.

“I know, Toby. I know.”

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

#creepypasta #ticci toby #chubby reader #trans masc reader #male reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta smut #toby rogers #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby smut

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 25 days

Text

The Quiet Ones 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: I really gotta finish my paper (don't worry I'm like 3/4 done).

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

The light is there again. Bright, green, searing into your vision as it shines against the wall, weaving in perfectly between the curtains. Every night. Taunting you. And in the morning, gone.

Can you call it a pattern after only three days?

You don’t know what to call it. You don’t know what he wants from you. If he wanted to hurt you, he would by now, wouldn’t he? Or is this a sick game he’s playing? Whatever it is, it’s madness.

You sit up and grab your pillow. You cross the room to the door and close it behind you. You put the pillow on the couch and pull down the folded throw across the back. You don’t expect to sleep out here either but you won’t have to stare at the insufferable dot.

You lay down on your back and sigh at the ceiling. You stare up at the plaster until your eyes close on their own. Your shoulders are tense, your back too, every muscle in you has been knotted for days. You tried a hot shower, even a bath, but both just made you feel vulnerable. You’ve never been overly comfortable being naked but now you feel as if he can see your every movement.

You tried some exercises in an effort to loosen up too. Those only made you dizzy due to your lack of sleep and rationing. Those should be a sign for you to rethink your strategy but your only other option is to face the danger. You know better than that.

You huff as the last gray days pile on you. You open your eyes and bring your hand up to your forehead, trying to rub away the stress. You pause as a gleam flashes over your flesh. You drop your arm back down and raise yourself on your elbows.

Jeez.

Right there in the middle of your chest is the dot, rather a sliver of it. You look up as it glints in between the verticle blinds. You drop back down. Fine, whatever, if he’s going to shoot, he should just get it over with. You hate this limbo. It’s easy when you know what you’re waiting for. This is just torture.

A sudden jarring jingle cuts through the din. You sit up, heart beating. It isn’t the deafening gunshot you expected. The green laser ripples through the darkness as you stagger up to your feet and cover your ears. You follow the blaring noise into the bedroom.

Your phone lights up on your nightstand, flashing as you cross the space. You grab it and quickly silence it, staring at the screen in confusion. You keep your phone on silent, always. You never really use it for more than your banking and emails. On the screen, you see a map of your neighbourhood and a speck pulsing at the centre; your apartment. Huh.

You remember dismissing that feature before. Several times when you got the phone it kept offering to set up the ‘find your phone’ app but you figured you wouldn’t need it. Yet, here it is, chiming and chirping at you. It isn’t a coincidence. It’s him.

You peer over at the window and the green glare pours through. You look down again and find the dot right there. You shake your head and back away, hugging yourself as you flee back into the living room. It’s all so messed up and confusing. You don’t get how this can be happening.

You go into the kitchen. No windows to haunt you there. You put your phone down and lean on the counter as you hold your head. You blow out a breath and you close your eyes.

You try not to let yourself ask the questions but you’re so tired, you can’t keep fighting this hard. Who is he? How did he find you? Was that day at the cafe the first? Were you so obtuse that you never noticed him before? Does any of it matter?

The silence shatters again as your phone erupts in a cacophony once more. You back away and cup your ears. You’ve never done well with noise, especially loud noise, or too much at once. It’s a sort of dissonance that makes your head spin.

You scramble to grasp the phone, eardrums pulsing, and you hit the button again to hush it. You close out of the app and a notification pops up at the top of the screen. For a moment, you’re confused. The only messages you get are obvious scammers or stupid adverts you need to unsubscribe from.

‘Get some beauty sleep.’

You scowl as you stare at the text. What does that even mean? Even if the number is private, you don’t need to guess. You know it’s him. He’s messing with you. You won’t respond, not even in writing. You delete the conversation entirely and shut the phone off.

You leave it on the counter and go back to the couch. The laser awaits you. You lay down under it and resign yourself to your fate. The only comfort is he’s still out there and you’re in here. A ripple of fear courses through you as you wonder how long that can last.

👄

Your mail doesn’t come to your door. It’s left in one of the dozens of metal boxes near the front door. Typically you go down to grab it twice a week. You haven’t gone once in the last six days. You don’t plan on it either. You get digital statements for everything anyhow.

Yet, that doesn’t stop the special delivery from sliding underneath the door. You’re in your kitchen when you hear the soft whoosh. You go to the doorway and stare at the envelope on your floor as you lazily stir your instant coffee. You’re too tired to react with more than a yawn.

You think it could be a notice from the building. They usually leave one when they have to do an inspection. Yet, there’s not sign of the rental companies logo and the envelope is black. You doubt they’ve rebranded.

You sip from your coffee and sit at your desk. You login to the portal and open up a task. You don’t need to worry about all that. You muster all you have left for your daily toil. It’s the one thing you can’t forego; the one thing you share in common with other people, you need money to survive.

You empty the coffee with careless gulps as you key through several tasks. The hours drag by, the clock ticking in the corner of the screen, second by second, minute by grueling minute. The days don’t matter, they all blend together in this hazy purgatory.

You’re drawn from your mindless typing by the agonising growl of your stomach. You’re starving. Those times when you do let yourself eat, it isn’t much. Finally, your humanly needs have overcome your lack of appetite. You can’t deny it any longer.

You return to the kitchen with your empty mug. You go to rinse it and water spurts forth, for just a second, then the pipes grind and run dry. You put the cup in the sink and cross your arm. You march out to the bathroom and try the sink in there with the same result. The faucet in the tub runs a little longer but peters out to a single drip.

Hm, maybe that’s what the letter’s about.

You sweep back out and scoop up the envelope. Just bending down makes you see stars. You put it on the counter and go to the cupboard to take out the salted crackers. You unfurl the top of the sleeve and wiggle one out. You munch on the stale square and slip your thumb under the flap of the envelop and tear.

You put down the crackers and rip open one end of the envelope. You shake out the contents. It isn’t a letter. Just a folded pamphlet with something smaller inside. You unfold the spa booklet to uncover the all-inclusive pass within. You drop both and grip your head.

Is this some sort of bribe? Bait? He’s trying to draw you out and with what? The worst experience you could think of? The smells, the touching, the people...

You put it all back in the envelope. You don’t want it. You don’t even want it in your apartment. Your safe space. He’s invading it little by little. He can’t have it.

You go to the door and shove it back under the bottom. You push it as far as you can and fall back, catching yourself on the wall. Your head hurts, you’re tired, you’re stressed, you’re afraid. You just want everything to go back the way it was. You want to be alone. That’s all you ever wanted.

👄

You use your phone to authorise the two-factor sign-in to your bank account. You set it aside after confirming and wait for the screen to load. Your heart nearly stops as you see the balance. A few times you came too close to the red but this is not what you’re expecting. There’s about fifty thousand dollars extra. It has to be an error.

You click on your chequing and bring up the next screen. There is is ‘50,000’ in bold green letters but it doesn’t say where it’s come from, just ‘authorised payment’ next to it. What the heck does that mean?

Right below it you see your work deposit. That appears as usual. Company name, amount, account number. So what happened?

You click the chat icon at the bottom of the page and wait for an agent to connect. You go through the typical automated questions; what is your issue? Account number? All of that. When you finally have a representative and explain the extra zeros in your account, the response is only three dots.

You shake your head. You don’t need this. You have enough going on. Your water’s still out, you’re almost out of coffee, and you haven’t even started work. Halfway through and it feels like you’ve only just started a new week. You frame your face as you await the response.

‘Hello, miss. Thank you for your patience. We have found no error in this transfer.’

You lean back and whine. That doesn’t make sense.

‘Can I know where the money came from?’ You type.

‘The payee is listed as London Fog LLC. It appears to be a business payment.’

You close your eyes. What? That makes no sense. It... can’t be.

‘Can you reverse the payment, please?’ You input.

‘We can attempt to reverse this. This might take a few days to process. We will keep the ticket open until this is done.’

‘Thank you.’

You close out the chat. That’s as best as you can do. It’s all so weird and you can’t deny the nagging truth. It’s not an error or a coincidence. It’s that stranger. He is playing a very confusing game.

Your phone lights up and your eyes flit down. You lean in to glimpse the notification before it minimises. ‘Happy hump day <3’. You quickly black out the screen and flip it over. Leave me alone!

👄

You almost expect the knock on your door. Deep down, you knew it was coming. Noon, on the dot. It’s Wednesday.

“London Fog express!” He calls through. “Ew, this one’s gone a bit bad.”

You hear him shifting around before the handle turns without give. He wiggles it and sighs. He huffs and you can tell by his shadow he’s leaning on the door.

“Look, jellybean, I came all the way here, even burnt myself on this thing,” he says through the door, “you know, I’ve had some late nights...” he pauses as you sit silent, unmoving at your desk. “You don’t have to do more than open the door and take the cup. Promise, I won’t try nothing. I mean, I’ve been pretty patient, haven’t I?”

You press your fingers to the edge of your desk to keep from shaking.

“Right, I guess... I haven’t even introduced myself. How forgetful. Name’s Lloyd, but you could call me like L or love bear or... snookums. Something sweet like that.”

You can’t. You’re going to pass out from absurdity. This man is psychotic.

“You know, I’m a pretty handsy—handy guy. I could fix that water issue you got going on--”

Holy cow. How does he know—how could he? He wouldn’t be able to just shut off your water. Right?

“See, I get you, baby face, you’re the quiet type. You like to keep to yourself. That’s fair but everyone needs someone. I see that now,” he rambles through the door as it groans against his lean, “I didn’t before. Then I saw you and everything changed. It’s me and you, cupcake.”

You stand and shudder, walking stiffly around the corner and towards the door. You step up and try to see through the peep hole. It’s still black. You exhale and sniff.

“What do you want?” You croak.

Silence. The door shifts as he takes his weight off of it. He soles scuff on the other side.

“Hi,” his voice softens, “how are you, jellybean?”

You close your eyes. You just want an answer. You cross your arms and rocks, a soothing gesture as your nerves bubble up.

“Yeah, that’s okay, I know you’re not much of a talker. We balance each other out like that. I’m doing okay, you know? Cafe was a bit crowded but I got your latte. Foam shouldn’t have fallen yet so if you just want to open--”

“What do you want?” You step closer to the door and raise your voice.

He scoffs into a hum, “isn’t it obvious, babes?”

You open your eyes and bit your upper lip.

“You, baby cakes. Simple as that,” he drawls, “so why don’t you grab your tea and we can have a little sit down.”

“Go away.”

He huffs and clicks his tongue, “don’t be like that, sweetie.”

“I don’t know you--”

“I’m Lloyd, your love bear--”

“Stop. I want you to leave me alone.”

Another sharp exhale from the other side. A lull that prickles across your skin.

“I can’t do that.”

You wince, “please...”

“All you have to do is open the door, jellybean. You know I’m a good guy. I’ve been looking out for you. Every night,” something drags down the door. “You can’t lock yourself away forever.”

You step back and lean on the wall weakly. He’s delusional and you’re so tired. You’re almost tempted to open the door just to get it over with. You sink down onto your butt and hug your knees.

“No.”

That’s all you say. It’s all you can eke out.

He taps on the door lightly and sucks his teeth. “Well, guess I gotta amp up my game.”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the gray man #series #the quiet ones

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strwberri-milk · 5 months

Note

Could I request s/o giving the boys snack boxes with Kaveh, Ayato, and Wriothesley?

Those were so so so cute!

Kaveh is overtly very curious about what you're putting together. If you ask him to his face he won't admit that he wants to know what you're doing. You eventually end up telling him that you're simply preparing some gifts for the people in your life. He doesn't want to ask you outright if he's included in that list because he'd 1) hate to assume he is and 2) be embarrassed if you say that he isn't and this is for some separate event wherein he's not the intended audience.

A few people who know the two of you come up to him and ask if he's gotten a gift from you and he simply laughs it off, not wanting to make things awkward for anybody. However, the thought of it still sits in the back of his mind as their questions roll around his head. It makes itself known in the pit of his stomach, trying to figure out how he can ask you about what's happening.

When you come back home you see him sitting on the couch, deliberating intensively about just that. You're not sure if you should interrupt him, the bag in your hand almost forgotten in the state of mild panic his intensive thinking taking precedence.

He hears you coming up to him and looks up, trying to string together the proper words to ask you why you aren't getting him anything. You can see the slight pout on his lips as he tries to get rid of it, laughing a little to yourself at his attempts. You brandish the bag to him at the same time, Kaveh's eyes lighting up while you explain you wanted to make him an extra special treat. You're rewarded with a tight hug and his insistence that the two of you eat everything right now.

Ayato doesn't mind too much. He knows you were running around putting gifts for some of your friends and to him, he just assumes it's simply something nice you just wanted to do for them. He doesn't want to interrupt you in your project so he's keeping his distance from it. After all, it'd be devastating if he accidentally destroyed the snacks you were so carefully trying to preserve for your friends.

He does make positive comments though, finding the smell wafting through the home to be very pleasant. He lives for the way you practically glow under his sweet praise, feeling just as satisfied as if you hand confessed your undying love for him once again.

He sees a specifically ornate box being kept to the side and out of curiosity, he starts to build up a list of the most likely receptions of that box. When he sees that it's gone one day he simply assumes that you've delivered it to your intended recipient, not thinking much of it and not realising that it's sitting in your shared bedroom one night.

You have to point it out to him, recognition dawning on him at the same time as him realising that you saved the most elaborate gift for him. He laughs to himself, opening the box and admiring the efforts you went through as he presses a kiss to the top of your head and sets it aside to save for an afternoon with you.

Wriothesley almost doesn't notice you're making something with his busy days until he finds a strange amount of bags sitting around waiting to be filled. You quickly explain what you're doing and he nods in understanding, smiling at how kind you are and leaves it at that.

He never really would expect you to give him anything so the thought that you might even make him one never crosses his mind. As far as he's concerned, you're just making some people some tasty treats as a show of appreciation.

When you come up to him with his own tasty treats in tow he gives you a warm smile and opens it up to see what you've made him. He'll ask if you've got a bit of time to spend with him, already getting up to brew some tea that he feels would perfectly compliment the treats you've made.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #ayato x reader #wriothesley x reader #kaveh x reader #ayato kamisato x reader

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byeoltoyuki · 7 months

Text

Remedy

↳ Pairing: Minho x reader

❧ Genre : established relationship / fluff / smut

❧ Words : +2k

❧ Warnings: oral (f) / orgasm denial / hair pulling

❧ Summary : You were his best and favorite remedy.

❖❖❖

You came back home as soon as you received Jisung’s text. No matter that you were in the middle of a family dinner. Family mattered of course, but when the said message mentioned your intimidating, yet lovely, boyfriend, you had only one thing on mind: get back to your shared home and take care of him. Fortunately for you, your family knew how deeply you loved and cared for Minho; they didn’t question your sudden need to get back. No, instead they shook their heads, gave you a hug and hoped to see you soon.

“Hey Y/N.” Jisung was the one to greet you, looking exhausted and barely holding it together. You guessed the business meeting didn’t go so well after all. He eyed you from head to toe and whistled, impressed. “You look good.”

You did. Since you had a dinner at an expensive restaurant, your dad’s choice, you made an extra effort to look good. You wore a simple black, long sleeve dress that hugged all your curves perfectly, along with high heels. You flipped your hair, playfully and smirked. “I know.” Then, you pointed at him, “You, on the other hand, look like shit.”

Jisung palmed his face, already in pain, and shook his head. “And as lovely as ever.”

You blew him a kiss. “Where’s the grumpy man?”

Jisung glanced over his shoulder at the closed door to Minho’s office. Of course, he would lock himself in his office when things didn’t go his way. Not that a door could stop you from getting to him.

“You should leave him alone.” Jisung advised. He knew you wouldn’t listen, not when it came to Minho, but he still tried.

You walked towards him, smiling. “Yet you sent me the message. You wanted me to get home and deal with him.”

“Fine.” He raised his hands in defeat. “You’re right.”

“I know.” You winked at him.

“Insufferable. Just like him.” But Jisung smiled.

That you were.

❖❖❖

Minho’s mood was sourer than you thought. He sat in dead silence and in full darkness in his office – it still didn’t dampen your spirit. You switched the light on, unbothered, to have a proper look at your boyfriend. Minho watched you from his chair, his legs spread, his eyes dark and deadly. You appreciated his attempt at scaring you, but he knew better, after three years of dating, nothing could faze you anymore.

“Hi babe.” Your mouth curved into a smile as you studied him from your spot. When Minho was upset, there were only two possible outcomes; either he would ask you to leave him, which was fine even if you wanted to help him, or he would nicely use you to get rid of his frustration. And quite frankly, who were you to say no to this outcome?

You approached him, slowly, your eyes locked. He still hadn’t uttered a single word, choosing instead to observe you and see what you would do, daring you silently to do something.

“Heard you had a shitty day.” You said as you stopped right between his spread, toned legs.

Minho chose to ignore this comment; he didn’t want to talk about his day and definitely not about the meeting. Instead, he straightened up and put his hands on your hips. “How was dinner?”

“It was nice.” Nice could mean a lot things. It could be really nice, or it could be your way to say you were bored but it was still nice.

Minho knew it and easily guessed how you truly felt, yet he still decided to tease you. “That’s why you came back so early?”

Feeling particularly bold tonight, you leaned closer and cupped his chin, lips hovering over his. “No. I came running home when I heard my lovely boyfriend got upset.”

That earnt you a gentle slap on your ass – not that you minded. Quite the opposite even. You smiled, satisfied with his reaction and pecked his lips before pulling away.

“What a nice girlfriend you are.” His mouth twitched, not so moody anymore. His hands hovered over your ass until he slowly started stroking your legs. Gentle, feather-like touches that sent shivers down your spine. Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

“Aren’t you a lucky man?” You teased and put your hands in his hair, playing with his locks.

Minho hummed in response but his attention was fully on your legs as his hands slowly hiked up your dress, exposing more of you, more of your smooth skin. Such a beautiful sight, how could he resist? With one swift movement he lifted you from the floor and put you on top of his desk.

“Someone is eager tonight.” You laughed heartily. You spread your legs a little more for him to settle in between, his hands resting on your thighs.

“Can you blame the man when his girlfriend looks so good tonight?”

“Smooth. Very smooth babe.” You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him harshly so you could claim his mouth. Kisses with Minho, no matter how sweet it was at first, always turned into a battle of dominance – that you always lost. He was stronger and hungrier and full of passion that consumed you every single time. Tonight was no exception.

Minho was first to break the kiss, but instead of pulling back from you, he pressed his forehead against yours and kept his eyes closed, savoring the sweet moment, savoring your warmth.

“Touch me, please.” You pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.

It stunned you how easily Minho gave in. It should have been your clue that it wouldn’t go your way, not so easily. Slowly, he slid down. Minho didn’t hesitate and hooked your legs over his shoulders as he knelt before you. He pressed soft kisses along the inside of your thigh, slowly, too slowly. You needed more.

“Minho.” You urged him.

“What’s wrong?” He kissed the fabric of your underwear making you whine.

“Not enough?” He teased, knowing damn well it wasn’t enough. “Tell me what you want, come on.” He looked at you from between your legs, looking smug and evil. The temptation to just grab his head and pull him against you was so strong, but it would do you no good.

“Is it my tongue?” He pressed his lips once more against you. “Or do you want my fingers?” He played with your panties, pulling at them before snapping them back. “Or is it my cock?”

“Anything. Just please.” You begged

He tsked in response, unsatisfied. “So needy.” Still, he pushed your panties aside, exposing your flesh. “What should I do with you, hm?”

You didn’t answer that and fortunately for you, he didn’t mind, for once. The first lick of his tongue was all it took to make you throw your head back and moan softly. Minho knew your body like the back of his hand. He knew what made you squirm, what made you jolt, what made you moan his name over and over again.

You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white as Minho played more with you, teasing you with every stroke of his tongue. He took all his time with you, slow yet precise just to drive you crazy.

“Minho.” You moaned, your legs shaking.

“Hmm?” He hummed, never stopping.

You tried to move, to rock your hips against his tongue, wanting more friction, wanting to feel more of it – he didn’t hesitate. He growled and pinned your hips to the desk. One look was all it took to remind you who was in control.

His tongue delved inside and you gasped, trying to hold to your sanity. You were so close, Minho could tell.

“Fuck, Min, I’m so close.” You cried out at the press of his tongue. “Please.”

So close and yet Minho ruined it all by pulling away.

“Minho!” You whined, desperate and incredibly frustrated with your ruined orgasm.

Did it faze him? Not even a little. Instead, Minho smirked and got back to work. Once, twice, by the third ruined orgasm, tears pricked your eyes. You were shaking and panting.

“Minho, please, I can’t. Let me come.” You begged and tried to reach for him. With no use. Minho pulled completely away from you and straightened up to face you, smirking like the jerk that he was. “I fucking hate you.”

A dumb thing to say, you knew, he knew, and yet in your frustrated state, it was the only thing you could come up with.

Minho grabbed your throat, his grip strong, almost bruising. “Say that again, come on.”

But no words left your lips. Not when he was putting pressure on your throat. Not when he was looking at you with so much lust in his eyes and so much fondness. He loved watching you fucked up because of him – and he wasn’t even done with you.

He leaned over, his lips lightly brushing yours. “Not so bold anymore, are you?”

Minho pulled you from the desk only to bend you over it, loving the sight of your exposed ass. He couldn’t resist it; he spanked your ass, once, twice, every slap strong and precise, making you bite on your lips to prevent your moans. He admired how easily your skin turned bright red.

“So damn pretty.” He stroked lovingly your bruised ass, soothing the pain. “And all mine.”

Minho hurried to pull out his cock. Despite being the one in control and all the teasing, he was slowly losing the self-control. Still teasingly, he slapped his cock against your center making you shiver and whine in pure need.

“Please, please, please.” You begged, unable to hold back the tears of frustration. You needed him, badly, him and his cock.

Minho showed you mercy by burying himself deep inside you making you both moan. He stilled, letting you time to adjust to him, to the fullness, to the delicious stretch. Minho tried to resist the urge to simply pound into and seek his release; his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your skin. He was breathing hard.

“Fuck, you feel so good, babe.” He groaned. He leaned over you and pressed gentle kisses to your shoulders, to your back. Maybe it was to distract you, maybe it was to distract himself.

He pulled out slowly before thrusting back with more strength – his thrust making your eyes roll back in your head.

Minho set a strong and fast rhythm. He delved deeper into you with every thrust, reaching all the spots that made your toes curl, that made you cry out his name.

“Shit, babe, feels so good.” You mewled, pushing back against him.

“You were made for me.” His hand found its way to your hair and he yanked them hard, forcing you to arch your back and press yourself harder against him, “Nobody can make you feel this good.”

“Only you.” You agreed in your delirious state.

“That’s right.” He growled, lips latched on your neck, leaving bright red marks. “Only mine.”

His possessiveness was what drove you to your limits – your body shook as you convulsed around him, crying out his name. Minho kept pounding into you, drawing out your pleasure and trying to reach his own climax.

Minho groaned as he came inside you, spilling into you. He collapsed on top of your back, breathless. “I’m a lucky man.” He managed to say. He peppered your back with small, loving kisses which made you giggle even in your exhausted state.

“I know.” You turned to face him. He looked much more relaxed now, a pretty smile on his beautiful face – you melted. “I’m lucky too.”

Minho chuckled and without hesitation lifted you bridal style. He carried you outside of his office. “Hell yes. I should just marry you and make sure you never leave my side.”

“What a terrible way to propose. I expect better.” But despite his attempt, you laughed heartily, your heart swelling with love and fondness for this man. “But it’s a yes.”

Minho halted, stunned with your admission. He stared at you, opened his mouth and closed it right away. It wasn’t his intention to propose, not now and definitely not like this. But just maybe, you drove him crazy enough to forget his initial plans. He shook his head in defeat, and chuckled. “I love you.”

“I know.” You didn’t hesitate and pecked his lips.

#stray kids #stray kids smut #lee know #lee minho #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #remedy

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