#the first time i watched it it surprised me so bad i had to pause because i fucking started crying
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festered wounds
— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.
© zhongrin | 2023 ✼ no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡
✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley
✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’
✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.
ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)
“i’m sorry.”
zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.
“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.
“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”
“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”
zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.
belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.
zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.
“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”
“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”
“a-are you sure you want me?”
out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.
“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”
“oh….”
“….”
“….”
you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.
“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”
you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.
and it angered him.
but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.
funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.
“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”
“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”
“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”
wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—
he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.
“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”
he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…
“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”
“then is your own head telling you that?”
“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.
he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.
he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.
“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”
the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.
he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.
“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”
✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#al haitham#al haitham x reader#wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#rin writes
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The Big Part
Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut
You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.
warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words
Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan
minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut
It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?
For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.
You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.
“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.
“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.
Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.
“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.
His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.
“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.
Alastor nodded.
You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”
His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?
“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”
You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”
“Take it where?”
You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.
You nodded, “Yes, please.”
His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.
Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.
“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.
“Oh. I wasn’t-,”
“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.
It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.
“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”
“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?
“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”
“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.
You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”
He nodded.
Maybe this was a mistake.
After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?
Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.
“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.
“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.
“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”
Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.
“Show me.”
All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.
Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.
A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.
Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.
“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”
You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.
He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”
You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.
But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.
Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.
“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.
“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”
“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.
He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.
It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.
“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”
You nodded.
“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.
Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.
Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.
“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.
“Full, so full.”
His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”
You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.
His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.
Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.
“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.
You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.
“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.
“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.
You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”
Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.
The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.
“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”
You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”
“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.
More. You could take more, he was positive of it.
Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.
Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.
Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.
“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”
He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.”
Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.
No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.
His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.
Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.
“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.
“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.
That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?
You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.
Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”
“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”
You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.
His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”
I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖
༻Masterlist༺
Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.
#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x reader smut#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#alastor smut#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor x you#hazbinhotel#hazbin#x you smut#fanfiction#smut#smut writing#smut fanfiction#x you#x reader#reader fic#reader#reader insert#the radio demon#radio demon#alastor the radio demon
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something nice — sub!fem!reader x dom!yeonjun x servicetop!kai
cw. reader is in an established (open) relationship with yeonjun, cucking? (kai eats reader's pussy while yj watches lol), cunnilingus ofc, nipple play, orgasm denial, edging, pet names (baby, jjun), begging, mention of "punishment" but nothing's ever done, yeonjun and kai talk about reader and what they're gonna do to her (without her understanding—everything is consensual in the beginning, but read note below), let me know if there's anything else.
notes. IMPORTANT: ok so the tea with this one. the idea here is that the reader doesn't speak korean well and kai and yj are speaking korean to kinda talk about the reader and what they're gonna do to her so she doesn't understand. nothing aggressive, just describing what to do to her body so she's kinda surprised? SO!! anything in italics is in korean. thats important!! also idk how i feel about this???? smut under cut.
wc. 1.5K
“Did she give you a reason or did she just break up with you?” You’re eavesdropping on Yeonjun and Kai—not that they’re being very secretive. They’re talking about a woman Kai’s been seeing while you play video games and attempt to translate in your head, but you're not being too successful, catching a few words here and there.
“She did say one thing,” Kai says hesitantly. “But it’s kinda embarrassing.”
“What is it?”
“Well,” he starts, scooting closer to Yeonjun to awkwardly whisper something to him, twiddling his thumbs, running his fingers through his hair.
“Oh,” Yeonjun chuckles. “That’s…man, if you get really good at that, you could date anyone.”
“What are you talking about?” You finally pause your game, curiosity getting the best of you. Looking up, Kai looks like you caught him stealing cookies from a cookie jar while Yeonjun tries to hold back a chuckle. The three of you exchange looks until Yeonjun rolls his eyes to bluntly say—
“Eating women out.”
“Yeonjun—!” Kai says, shoving his arm.
“What?” He chuckles, returning the shove. “I eat her out all the time. She knows what it is. She knows you eat pussy too.”
“But that’s why that woman broke up with you?” You ask. “Because you…you're bad at eating pussy?” He blushes, averting his attention to the floor while he clasps his hands together, nodding shyly.
“Be honest, babe—am I good at eating you out?”
Looking between the two of them, you sit up and say, “Yeah, you’re probably the best I’ve had, but we’re super compatible, you know? We’re, like, super in love. That makes a big difference sometimes.”
Holding back a cocky smile, he asks, “But, objectively, I’m pretty good, right?” You shrug and nod—really, he probably is the best you’ve ever had, but that’s another story.
“What makes it good?” Kai asks.
Humming, you think before saying, “First, he doesn’t go straight for it.” Turning red and ears getting warm, you gush and— “Oh god, Kai, don’t look at me when I tell you this.”
“Ah, this is ridiculous,” Yeonjun exasperates. “Do you just wanna practice on her?” You both whip your heads in his direction. “If you’re comfortable with it, of course,” he says to you. “Just thought it might be helpful.”
Oh, how did you end up here? Laying in Yeonjun's bed, clenching your thighs together out of nervousness. “Remember, this is kinda specific to her. Pay attention to what whoever you’re with wants.” Kai nods, kneeling at the foot of the bed.
“She already said this—” Yeonjun says. “I don’t go straight for it. I kiss her first, then make my way down there.”
“You want him to kiss me?”
He shrugs and says, “If you’re alright with that.”
“If you are,” you say, looking Kai in the eyes. Both of them can’t help but notice the confidence you seem to be exuding, especially compared to Kai. Trembling fingers reaching for your cheek, he looks at you for permission one final time. Finally leaning in, his lips press to yours.
You’d forgotten what it was like to have a first kiss with someone. Kai’s kisses are different from Yeonjun’s. Kai’s are much more cautious, more careful—not necessarily shy, but careful. It quickly turns hot and heavy. But you remember Yeonjun is watching you, suddenly overtaken with bashfulness, you break the kiss to glance over at him.
Him and that sinister smile.
Turning back to Kai, you crash into his lips again, humming into his mouth and smirking to rub how much you're enjoying this in Yeonjun's face.
“Touch her,” Yeonjun says. “Kinda slowly, but then a little more intense.” Kai does as he’s told, his hand dragging up your hip to squeeze your tits. “Under her shirt.”
His hand on the outside of your bra feels new and exciting. Reaching around your back to unhook it, you break the kiss to take your shirt off, pulling at the hem of his.
“Slow down for a second,” Yeonjun chuckles and Kai listens, placing gentle kisses to your collarbone. “Lick her nipples.” Swirling his tongue around your nipple, you gasp, reaching for his hair. “Pay attention to which one she likes better.”
Kai tests both, slyly licking between the two. After testing the waters, he picks correctly. You chuckle thinking about Yeonjun sitting on a chair across the room, smirking in approval. You could look for yourself, but you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes.
“Keep licking her until her hips roll.” This is a bit crazy, isn’t it? The guy you love telling another man how to fuck you the way you like. “Not yet.” Yeonjun switches to Korean, making you roll your eyes. If you didn’t have the energy to translate in your head earlier, you definitely can’t focus enough to translate now.
Lips trailing down your body, he tugs at your shorts, but keeps your cute pink panties on. Yeonjun talks him through every move—to lick his thumb and rub your nipple, to press his nose to the outside of your panties, to skate his lips across your inner thighs.
Your hips roll uncontrollably, practically begging him to taste you.
“Kai—” You whisper, your body instantly burning at the sound of the both of them chuckling. Pulling your panties down and off your legs, he throws them to Yeonjun who happily wads them up to sniff them and smell how delicious you are.
Licking his thumb again, he keeps rubbing circles over your nipple as he finally licks your clit, your back arching as soon as he touches it.
“Fuck—” You say breathlessly, looking down at him as his eyes sparkle up at you, your head dropping to your pillow with a thud. “Who the fuck is this bitch that says you’re bad at this?” He shakes his head, digging deeper into your pussy.
Smiling cockily, you look over at Yeonjun, trying to control his breathing. He can’t help it—the two of you are just too hot together. He's never been able to enjoy this kind of view before. Seeing how every part of your body reacts to being touched—it's an incredible view.
“Please tell me he’s allowed to make me cum, baby,” You beg.
“Of course,” he chuckles smugly. “If he can.” Kai’s eating you out like he’s absolutely starving. And it’s true—he can’t help it. You taste too fucking good.
Your eyes squeeze shut as you start squeaking, throwing your head back.
“Okay, that sound means she’s gonna cum soon. Try to bring her as close to the edge as possible and then stop.”
“Fuck, Kai,” you breathe. “Right there—yes.” You can’t believe how good he is at this, especially given the reason you're under his tongue right now. He’s supposed to be bad at this, right?
You’re so fucking close and he can feel it. “Don’t stop—” he brings you right there. And then he does it. He stops. “Agh, fuck you,” you groan. Looking down at him, his smirking at you, eyes flashing between you and Yeonjun.
He doesn’t waste too much time before getting back to your pussy, flicking his tongue over your clit.
“Take it away from her for a bit. Lick her nipples again.” He does just that. You’re aching, bucking your hips over and over, desperately trying to relieve some kind of tension. But his tongue does feel amazing on your tits. Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it hard. He groans, his mouth dropping open like you just unlocked a new kink of his.
Now he can’t take it anymore. Hips jutting forward, you feel the roughness of his sweatpants drag against your center, relieving some of that tension. You gasp, resorting to begging him to get back to licking you.
“No, don’t,” Yeonjun says sternly.
“But I want to,” Kai whines back, looking at your pussy hungrily, sticking the tip of his tongue out, giving his best begging eyes. But Yeonjun just shakes his head, satisfied with watching you uncontrollably rolling your hips up toward Kai’s mouth. Kai compromises, wrapping his hands around the backs of your thighs to yank you closer to him and presses his lips to the skin right around your clit, teasing you even more.
“Babe—” you breathe, begging Yeonjun with your eyes to let him continue licking you.
“I know, baby, I know…” he responds, his voice low and rough. He finally lets him lick you again. But he doesn’t show much mercy. He repeats the same tactic over and over—having him bring you right to the edge, even to the point of tears, then he stops right in his tracks.
"I'm gonna tell you to stop, but I want you to keep going, okay?" Kai nods, agreeing to his instructions. Bringing you to the edge again, you're begging for mercy, begging to cum. "Don't let her cum, Kai," he says, making tears form in your eyes. "Stop—"
And he does.
"I told you to let her cum that time."
"Sorry," he smiles up at him, licking his lips. "It's so fun to see her beg like that though." Tilting his head toward you, he says, "Look at her...she's got tears in her eyes. Isn't that the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen?"
"It's okay, baby," he says, fingers flowing through your hair while Kai's mouth finds your clit again. You're moaning, gasping for air, swearing, screaming, anything to try to find a release. "Not yet. Don't let her fucking cum, Kai." You don't think you can handle this much longer. Edging is nice, yes, but this? This is bordering torture.
"Please, please, please, Jjun..." you trail off. "Just please let me cum. I can't take it anymore."
"I know you can take it, baby. Fucking taking it so well..."
It's building again. That knot in your stomach that gets tighter and tighter with every second. That white hot fire in the pit of your stomach waiting to explode.
"Don't stop, Kai," you blurt. "I'm gonna cum—" Slamming your palm over your mouth—you shouldn't have said that. He's gonna make you regret saying that.
"Don't let her cum," he orders.
But his grip gets tighter. His tongue licks furiouser. His face digs deeper. You're so fucking close. Closer than you've ever been tonight.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kai..." your orgasms crashes over you like a bolt of lightning. "Yes, fuck yes, that feels so fucking good." You feel like you're having an out of body experience. It's one of the best fucking orgasms of your life. "Don't stop, right there." You chest heaves with heavy breaths.
Coming down from one of the best orgasms of your life, your vision clears up and all you keep thinking is how much Yeonjun's gonna make you pay for this. You came without his permission—what's he gonna do now? Everything flashes across your mind: not letting you cum for a week, spanking you until your ass had his hand print on it, tying you up for hours, you're not sure.
But he doesn't do any of that. His hand caresses your cheek as he smiles down at you, "Did that feel good, baby?"
Confused, you nod, "Mhmm." You're still nervous, looking around at everyone's reactions. Kai's smirking while he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Bad at eating pussy my ass," you say, shoving his shoulder with your foot.
"Ah, I knew you a had a little crush on him...I've seen how you look at him." Your face turns beet red. He's noticed that? Oh god... "I just wanted to do something nice for my baby."
#hp's writing🪲#hueningkai smut#hueningkai hard hours#hueningkai hard thoughts#hyuka smut#hyuka hard thoughts#hyuka hard hours#hueningkai fic#hueningkai ff#hyuka fic#txt smut#txt hard thoughts#txt hard hours#txt ff#txt fanfic#kpop smut#kpop ff#txt x reader#hueningkai x reader#hyuka x reader#yeonjun#yeonjun smut#yeonjun ff#yeonjun x reader#yeonjun x reader smut#txt x reader smut#choi yeonjun#choi yeonjun smut#yeonjun hard thoughts#hp's hard thoughts ☁
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the prettiest boy in the paddock | op81
hi there, here comes the 1.3k of wholesome fluff with the pastry boi. its just-uh, i already know that i wanna write a part two for this so watch out!
summary: oscar is feeling a bit down but little does he know that for two people out there he is the prettiest boy in the paddock
warnings: none
pairing: fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri (ft. lando)
Oscar never had an opinion about his appearance.
Whenever someone asked him if he considered himself as an attractive guy, he would just shrug. Passing by shop windows, mirrors, or surfaces reflecting his image, he never stopped to check if he looked good. The same applied to taking pictures of him. He never needed to have a say in them; he didn't feel the need to improve any shot, as he might not look favorable in it. If the photographer thought he looked great, who was he to judge?
This, of course, didn't mean that Oscar didn't take care of himself; quite the opposite. The Aussie was always neat, smelled good, and sometimes even used hair conditioner, lip balm or even a hand cream. Looking at him, you could notice a handsome, young man with a well-built, slim figure, a pleasant gaze, and an infectious smile.
The fact that Oscar was attractive was especially noticeable on social media. He was adored by fans. The papaya army loved the McLaren duo, and Oscar was no less popular with the ladies than Lando. If anything, sometimes it seemed like his name was shouted even louder.
His teammates also shared the same opinion. Oscar was a good-looking lad, so it wasn't surprising that during conferences, interviews or casual conversations Lando couldn't take his eyes off him and Y/N took every opportunity to throw compliments at him. However, these compliments were one hundred percent sincere and true and Oscar took them very personally, blushing like never before. These compliments were perceived as harmless, friendly jokes by the public, but both Y/N and Lando believed that their friend was the indeed the most beautiful.
However, this didn't change the fact that sometimes Oscar had a bad day. This was one of those days.
With the hood pulled low over his head, the person in the orange McLaren hoodie entered the dining room. Y/N was slowly having her breakfast, scrolling through social media. She usually went for meals early to avoid crowds and have some time to clear her head. Her surprise was evident when someone pulled a chair next to her and took a seat.
"Oscar?" the girl asked in surprise, barely able to see her friend's face under the hood. "What are you doing here so early?"
"I couldn't sleep."
He muttered under his breath and opened a small chocolate packet, pouring it over his pancakes.
Y/N blinked several times, holding her phone in her hand. Clearly, something was off.
"Is something wrong?"
Oscar shook his head and leaned his elbow on the table. He ate in a hunched position, with his back slouched. It looked like he was hiding from someone. Or hiding something.
"You haven't convinced me."
She replied, putting down her sandwich.
The Aussie ate in silence. Only his chin and chocolate-stained lips were visible under the hood. Y/N looked at him, waiting, but when she saw it was better to drop the subject, she returned to her breakfast and scrolling through Instagram.
When Y/N finished eating, she glanced at her friend one last time. He still sat with his head down, swiping his finger on his phone screen. She gathered her things, planning to leave the dining room, realizing there was no chance for a normal chat with Oscar.
"See you around, grumpy."
As she stood up, she heard a quiet question.
"Can you help me?"
Y/N paused and finished her coffee.
"Of course I'll help you, but first I need to know in what matter."
She replied without hesitation, looking down at him. He raised his head and for the first time that day, she had the chance to look at his face.
"Do you have a moment now?"
The girl checked her phone's clock and nodded.
"To my room, then."
Once they were in her room, she sat on the bed and Oscar, after closing the door behind him, walked slowly into the room.
"I'm all ears."
He took his hands out of his pockets and sat next to his friend. He sighed and took off the hood, turning his face toward Y/N in silence. She looked at him surprised, studying him.
"What? You don't have the answer written on your face."
"I do," he replied tartly "You don't see gow terrible i look?"
Y/N furrowed her brows. She had no idea what he was talking about. He looked exactly the same as always.
"You look cute, just like every day."
She said playfully, smiling, but he wasn't in the mood for jokes. He lowered his head and rubbed his face with his hands.
"Acne," he said, resigned, lowering his hands to his knees. "It's worse than ever."
She gently touched his chin and turned his face towards her. Oscar avoided eye contact. He felt embarrassed, unsure whether he was more ashamed of coming to her with such a thing or of his appearance.
"If you want me to help, first, don't touch your face like you did a moment ago."
The girl smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead with her hand.
The Aussie looked into her eyes and, seeing her smile, he felt a little more confident.
"Can you help me with this? I have no idea what to do."
"You're lucky you're friends with someone who has half a Walmart in their makeup bag."
Y/N smiled and stood up, going to the bathroom. After a moment, she returned with a pink headband, which she placed on Oscar's head to keep his hair away from his face.
"Have you washed your face today?"
Oscar nodded.
"What do you use for face wash? Tell me about your skincare routine."
To be honest, there was nothing much to talk about.
"Uh, I wash my face with water, morning and night, when I take a shower."
Y/N blinked several times and looked at him in shock.
"And that's it?"
He just nodded. To his surprise, his friend smiled and clapped her hands.
"Great, I can teach you everything."
"I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Oscar replied uncertainly, but he obediently stood up and followed the girl to the bathroom.
"Don't worry; it won't be anything crazy" Y/N said and took her face wash gel in her hand "It's gonna be Piastri's friendly skincare."
He listened to her even more carefully than when he analyzed the race result with the strategists. He asked when he had doubts, trying to remember every word she said. When he finished washing his face, she applied a gentle scrub and face mask after. After that, it was the time fot rest of the skincare routine. Y/N took a bit of cream on her fingers, which finished off all the major skincare. She crouched down in front of him and smiled, applying the cream to his face.
"Smile, Osc. You are beautiful."
Piastri involuntarily smiled at her compliment.
"Immediately better."
She added, massaging the remaining cream into her hands. For some imperfections, she applied a clear, specialized ointment and removed the headband from his head. She stood up, taking a brush and combing his hair.
"Thank you, Y/N."
Oscar replied, looking at her from below. His brown eyes sparkled as he raised his head to look at his friend.
"You are welcome, pretty boy."
She replied. She wanted to kiss his cheeks but refrained, partly because of the multi-step skincare routine on his face, and partly because Oscar was her friend. But mostly, it was about skincare.
"And you're beautiful, don't forget that."
"Of course, I am" a loud interjection from Lando was heard as he entered the room, making himself comfortable in it, quickly appearing in the bathroom "What's going on here and why without me?"
"You miss everything because you're the last one to get up"
Y/N replied, putting her things back into her cosmetic bag.
"Not true, don't be mean."
Lando retorted, but quickly his gaze turned towards Oscar and the Brit smiled at the sight of him "Wow, Osc, what a glow, mate!"
"Y/N did her hundred-step skincare on me."
"Really? Why are you torturing our friend?" Norris asked, sitting on the edge of the bathtub next to the Aussie.
"I asked her myself," the younger boy replied before the girl spoke up, ready to throw some sort of retort at her friend, "I wasn't feeling very confident this morning, my acne was killing me a bit and it's gotten worse lately."
Oscar admitted, still a little embarrassed by his problem.
"Aw, Oscar," Lando wrapped his arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "You'd win the competition for the prettiest boy in the paddock."
Piastri blushed and lowered his gaze. A slight smile appeared on his rosy lips.
"Oh yes, you would definitely win."
Y/N replied and put her makeup bag aside, also sitting next to Piastri and kissing his other cheek, feeling a bit more confident after Lando did the exact same thing. Oscar blushed even more and raised his hands to hide his face, but lowered them halfway.
"I can't touch my face, damn it!"
#f1 imagines#f1 oneshot#f1#formula 1#f1 oneshots#f1 imagine#lando norris#ln4#op81#op81 x reader#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you
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come on home
in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid
inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers
wc 2857
warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending
a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3
She hung up on you.
Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.
Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.
You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.
So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.
What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.
“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.
“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”
Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.
“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”
“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”
You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.
“Nice, nice. What else?”
“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”
“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.
“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”
A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.
“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”
“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”
When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.
“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”
You bite the inside of your cheek.
“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”
“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.
“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”
Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.
“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”
Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.
“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”
“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.
“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”
Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.
“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”
Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.
“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.
Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.
“Then I’m on my way.”
Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.
After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.
You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.
“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”
You shake your head and gasp a small sob.
Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.
His hand smooths over the back of your hair.
“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”
You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.
Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.
“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”
“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.
“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”
“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”
There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”
You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.
Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.
“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.
At least, until he goes home.
Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.
“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.
“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.
“That among other things.”
“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”
The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.
“Okay.”
It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.
“Thanks,” you murmur.
His lips pull into a melancholy smile.
“Anytime.”
There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.
But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.
“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.
“I can’t do that, honey.”
“Why not?”
His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.
“Because we’re not together anymore.”
“Why not?”
Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.
Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.
“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”
In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.
“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”
He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.
“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”
You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.
“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”
Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.
“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”
When he kisses you, it feels like home.
#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fic#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁 | 𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗑 𝗀!𝗉 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
tara calls you to rescue her from a bad date and things take a surprising turn.
tags. mdni! no ghostface au, g!p reader, no pronouns used tho. friends with benefits (?), clothed sex, language, smut in general. | word count. 3726
author's note. will you guys believe if i say the date part was inspired by a terrible date my coworker had? because it was and @wesstars is the proof of it!
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When the 7th episode of season 4 of Stranger Things started you felt your phone vibrating somewhere in between the cozy blankets. As you blindly looked for it, eyes focused on the TV in front of your bed, you felt it vibrating once again, but this time more than once.
Holding the phone in your hands, the name “tara” followed by a small heart emoji showed on the screen with 4 messages attached to it. Pausing the episode, you unlocked the device.
tara ♥︎
can you come pick me up?
please
this is the worst date ever
😭
Sewing your eyebrows together, you were quick to reply, asking for her location.
tara ♥︎
im at the motel near the campus, green valley or something
chad is showering and i told him i’d take an uber home because i wasn't feeling well and didn’t want to stay anymore
please come fast
Typing a simple “omw”, you grabbed your hoodie, throwing it over the white tank top you usually wore to sleep along with sweat shorts that easily became a second skin.
It was easy to spot the building as a gigantic green neon sign took over most of the illumination of the empty street. You parked in front of it, patiently waiting for your best-friend as you sent a message letting her know you arrived. The place seemed expensive and well cleaned, unlike most cheap motels that took over the right side of the street near the campus of your college, still, it didn't appetize you to walk in.
Soon, the younger Carpenter ran towards you, sighing in relief when she jumped into the car.
“That bad, huh?” You asked with a laugh, setting the first gear ready to go back home.
“You have no idea.” Tara whined, turning on the heat, complaining about how cold it was outside in a whisper. “I'll tell you everything when we get home.”
“I'm watching Stranger Things.” The focus on the road in front of you as you took a right turn didn't allow you to see the indignation expression on her face, more dramatic than it was necessary.
“Is Stranger Things more important than me?”
“I’m about to find out what happened at the Hawkins Lab…” You continued, trying to convince her of your cause, but her next words made you look at her with raised eyebrows, a convinced smile of someone who won drawing her lips.
“He has a small dick.”
“I'm all ears, princess.”
The return home didn’t take more than 10 minutes, especially with empty roads and yellow sign lights. Tara started telling about her date from the second it started, which was 5PM, the exact time she started to get ready. Honestly, none of that was necessary to reach the part that it all went downhill, but you didn’t dare to interrupt, you paid attention to every word Tara was saying as you carefully parked your car in your designated spot.
The second the elevator stopped on your floor, Tara had finished telling you about the dinner part of her date.
According to her, the food wasn't bad, but the place was crowded and the music playing was so annoying that it became a bit too much for her. It was already hard to pay attention to anything Chad was saying as the others' conversation was caught in the middle, stealing her attention, all she could was nod and smile, like one of the Penguins from Madagascar.
You laughed at her indignation and the small wrinkle in between her eyebrows, opening the door and giving her space to walk in. Kicking your shoes away, the both of you automatically walked to the door at the end of the small hallway of your apartment, the episode 7 of Stranger Things’ last season still on pause when you sat on the bed being followed by Tara; Jamie Campbell’s beautiful blue eyes on the screen.
“... and after we got to the motel, things were heating up and his hands were on my ass and he kept pushing me against him and…” Tara stopped talking after noticing the disgusted expression on your face as you made yourself comfortable on the bed. The girl sat right by your side. “I will not spare any details.”
“I’m seriously considering automatically deleting every explicit part of it.” You retorted, shifting uncomfortably against the headboard.
Despite the years of friendship you and Tara had, from Junior High all the way to college — where you both were right now, nothing touchy ever happened between the two of you, not even a single, drunk kiss at parties. You two were close, of course, but not this close, and hearing the vulgar words easily slipping out of her mouth was creating a weird feeling inside your chest.
“I don’t care.” The girl rolled her eyes, moving closer to you. “Continuing, Chad is gentle, nice, and it feels good to be with him, but ugh… I couldn’t even feel anything when I was sitting on his lap.” You let out a small laugh, scratching your eyebrow. That wasn’t the first time Tara rambled about a bad date, but this was Chad, a common friend, and someone that the young Carpenter had a genuine interest in. At this point, that interest had disappeared into thin air. “And when he removed his pants, he had this military patch underwear and black socks on and it was a huge turn off.”
“Black socks really do sucks…”
“I know!” The exasperated way she agreed with you made you laugh, her hand resting near your knee. “Can you believe he didn’t want to take them off? He said he has cold feet.” Her face fell against your thigh, a tired sighing leaving her mouth, hot breath hitting your bate skin. “I should’ve ran when he said that.” Tara mumbled.
Your hand naturally rested on her head in a soft petting, “You really should have.”
The brunette moved a little, laying on her side with her cheek still resting on your leg to feel the soothing moves of your fingers on her hair. The new position gave her a small vision of what's beneath the thick fabric of your shorts, the hem of black boxers peeking through. She looked away, crimson color on her cheeks as she continued the events of the night.
“But, it’s Chad, so I decided to ignore that ridiculous sock and continue.” You nodded your head. “He removed that equally annoying underwear and I swear to God! It was smaller than my hand, and my hands aren’t that big! Look.” To prove her point, she held your other hand, measuring it with her own. She intertwined your fingers together after you agreed with her, resting them both on her chest. “But I was like… okay, it’s not big but maybe he can be good with his tongue.”
“Oh, God.” You choke, closing your eyes. “I will never be able to look at him again.”
“Imagine how I feel!” Tara whined. “But then I thought to myself, he’s a terrible kisser; if he doesn’t know how to use his tongue on my mouth, imagine how bad it’ll be when he use it on my pu—”
“Okay! Let’s not use those explicit words, please.” You interrupted her, shifting again. “But damn, is that guy good at anything?”
“He has a nice body… from the waist up.” This time neither of you could hold back the laugh, the delightful sound of her laughing mixed with yours filled the room for a couple minutes, your hand still playing with the soft strands that spread across your leg. “Chad is a nice guy, but… that’s not enough for me, you know? I crave touching, feeling something. And he was so small I would barely feel anything.” Tara cried out, covering her face with her free hand as the other still held yours against her chest.
“I’m not a sexual freak or anything but I agree, at least the kiss has to be good. So that’s when you messaged me?”
“I wish.” It was your turn to sigh loudly. “We kept going and when I asked him to wear protection, you won’t believe it…”
“He didn’t have any?”
“Oh, he did.” She bit her lower lip, hand still covering her eyes as the images played like a broken record behind her closed lids. “After that awkward moment where he put it on, he got soft.”
“Maybe it was too tight or something, that can be an annoying bother.” You tried defending your friend, but the girl denied with her head, pursing her lips together, deciding if she should say it or not, but after all the details she already had shared, this one wouldn’t matter either.
“It was loose. It was the smallest size and it still was big for him.”
“Jesus Christ. I am deleting every photo I have with him. I can’t bear looking him in the eyes after knowing all of that.” Once again, your laugh filled the bedroom, making Tara look at you with narrowed eyes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Is it me?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion. “Am I the problem?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe I’m a terrible kisser and that’s why it didn’t fit.” She explained, looking at you.”Do you think I’m hot?”
“Where did that come from?”
“The deepest part of my curious brain.” Tara sat back up, resting her hand and yours on her thigh. “Now answer me, am I hot?”
“You are hot, Tara.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the problem wasn’t you. Maybe he was just nervous to be with you, I don’t know.”
“That does make me the problem.” Her eyes never left yours, looking for a small sign of a lie that was never found; after all, you did find Tara hot. “Why did you never kiss me?”
You let out a deep sigh. “Because we’re friends.”
“You kiss your friends. Amber, Mindy, and I’m sure you tried to kiss my sister once too.”
“Please, don’t bring that to the table.” The pinkish tone that colored your cheeks made the other smile. “And it’s different, they’re just friends, and you’re my best friend.”
Tara moved on the bed, sitting on her calves, still looking at you, and still holding your hand.
“Kiss me.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Kiss me.”
You let out an awkward, breathy laugh, trying to pull your hand from hers and moving away just a bit, but the brunette was determined, you could see it in the dark brown eyes.
“Stop joking around, Carpenter.” You said one more time, her slender fingers tracing random patterns on your thigh with her free hand, feeling the goosebumps all over your skin, big bambi eyes staring at you. “Tara…”
“Please…” She cried out, the tip of her fingers trespassing the hem of your shorts, only a few centimeters away from your clothed cock. You could already feel it twitching inside your boxers just from those small touches. “I just wanna prove to myself that I can do it and that there’s nothing wrong with me. You, as my best friends, should help me with that.”
“There’s nothing wrong with you, I truthfully believe you can get someone hard.”
“Then why wasn’t he hard?”
“Maybe it was just a bad day or he was nervous, I don’t know.” You repeat what you said earlier, hoping that it was enough for the small girl. It clearly wasn't though.
“But we were having fun! He was sweet, polite, respectful, and paid for dinner and the motel, which was not cheap. It makes no sense!” She whined like a spoiled kid. Tara sat on your thighs, holding your face in her hands. “Lemme touch you. Please.”
“Can’t we just watch Stranger Things and forget about this terrible date?” You asked in hopes she would let that stupid idea go; she obviously didn’t.
“We can, after we kiss.” Tara fixed herself on top of you, moving up. Your hands instantly grabbed her waist, before she could sit on your hips. “You know I won’t stop.”
“You’re like the donkey from Shrek.” You writhe under her.
“Please…”
“Dear Lord.” Your head fell back, hitting the soft headboard. “Why does it have to be me? And now?”
“Because you’re my best friend.” The girl shrugged. “Plus, you never let me see it.”
“I swear you have the strangest obsession with my dick.”
“I’m just curious about it.” Feeling the loosen on your grip, Tara moved slightly up, sitting right on top of it. “And I can definitely feel it.” The brunette pushed herself down, biting her lower lip.
“Please, stop moving.” You whined, trying to hold her still, but she was determined, you could see it in her eyes. It wasn’t going to take long before your underwear became a bother. “Tara, I’m warning you.”
“You sound so hot, you should use that tone with me more often.” Her hands grabbed you by the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, pulling you closer until her mouth was yours. You didn’t stop her or kissed her back, but your grip on her waist grew stronger. She smiled against your lips, one of her hands sliding down your body, nails scratching your belly under your hoodie, threatening to trespass the waist of your shorts. “Can I touch you?”
You gulped hard, staring at the brown eyes that looked soft, unlike her hands. “Are you sure you want to do this? There's no point of return.” Tara nodded fast, not giving a second thought to it, playing with the waist of your shorts. “You can touch me.”
When you gave Tara permission to touch you, you thought the girl was going to wrap her hands around your soft shaft, but all she did was kiss you, slowly and enticing, and this time you kissed her back. Your hands on her waist helped her move against your lap, grinding on you at a torturous pace.
You wanted to turn around, change your positions so you could control whatever it was about to happen, but you allowed her to be in charge; this was all about Tara proving to herself she’s not the problem, right? So you held back the urge.
Tara’s hands moved up again, wrapping around your neck as she got closer, pushing herself down on you, moaning against your parted lips when she felt your dick pressing on her even though you weren’t hard.
Her kiss trailed down your neck, gently nibbling on the skin there. You threw your head back, moving your hands down her ass, under the skirt of her dress to push her harder against you, increasing her hips’ speed.
“Fuck…” You let out a sharp breath, completely affected by the delicate touches coming from your best-friend, and that only made her more eager to pleasure you.
“Do you like this?” Tara whispered in your ear, softly biting on your lobule, tracing the cartilage with her teeth. All you could do was nod. She could feel you slowly getting hard against her ass.
Licking your lips, you thrust your hip up in a strong move, making the both of you moan lowly. You could come just with that friction if she continued moaning with her mouth so close to your ear, only for you to hear it.
Tara’s hands trailed down your body once again, but this time she pushed down the elastic of the waistband of your gray shorts, in a silent request for you to remove it. She lifted herself just enough for it to slide down your legs, pooling just before your knees, the black boxer still hugging your thighs tightly.
She didn’t want to look down, too shy to do so, but when she sat back against your bulge, it was impossible to not look at it. She pursed her lips together, the moan choked in the back of her throat as she felt you pressing hard against her. A wet spot taking form on the dark, thin cloth the more she rolled her hips on you.
It was an agonizing pain to let Tara in control of the situation. You could feel the warmth and wetness dripping for her cunt, you would easily slide in her, if she allowed you to. But you didn’t know how far she wanted to go with you, after all, this was just a test to see if she could get you hard, and she definitely could as she felt you twitching against her in desperate need to release.
This could've stopped here and now, you were hard after all, but in a bold move, her hand slipped into your underwear, her hand holding your dick in a hard squeeze that almost made you scream against her mouth. Pulling your length out, Tara wrapped her hand around your shaft, moving it up and down in a provocative way, smiling against your parted lips. Her eyes were dark, staring at you with luxury dripping from the brownish just like she was dripping on your thighs. You could feel the hot, thick liquid oozing on your skin as she rubbed herself on you.
“Fuck, Tara.” You breathed out again, broken, lewdly.
The brunette dipped her hand in her own underwear, eyes threatening to close as she rounded her swollen clit with two fingers, but she kept them open with a wicked expression on her face. Tara pulled her dress up, giving you the privileged view of her ruined underwear, the white fabric completely transparent. You couldn’t help yourself as your finger traced the wet stain, Tara’s mouth hanging open at the agonizing slow touch.
“Stop.” She asked in a trembled voice, shakingly holding your hand with flushed cheeks. “I don’t wanna cum like this.”
“And how do you wanna cum?”
Letting go of your hand, she watched with focused eyes as you took two of your fingers in your mouth, sucking at the slick that coated them with a satisfied hum. Tara seriously considered saying she wanted to ride your face and fall apart on your lips, but she just, messily, removed her underwear. A thin line of arousal followed the cloth as she tossed it somewhere in your bedroom, your mouth watering at that.
Tara pulled your boxer slightly down just enough for your member to be released, proudly hitting your lower belly, before placing herself on top of your cock, the blood flowing in your veins reverberating against her clit, making both of you choke on your breath. She fitted your length in between her slick folds, almost crying at the warm feeling.
She started grinding on you, shaking at every small move.
“This feels so fucking good.”
Throwing her head back, Tara supported her weight on her arms, gaining a fast pace. Your hands held the skirt of her dress up, giving you the perfect view of her shining cunt, smearing herself all over your cock. You could feel that tight knot on your stomach at that.
Moving one of your hands up and taking the dress with it, you crossed a barrier when you exposed her perfect tits, holding the stiff nipple with your thumb and index finger in a hurtful squeeze, earning yourself a crying moan that only made you throb against her center, while the other hand bruised the skin of her ass. You could see the red marks of your fingers all over her waist.
Pulling her torso towards you, your lips wrapped around her other nipple, trembling your tongue on the hardened nub, making Tara’s hands pull on your hair, keeping you close to her chest. Her hips started to lose speed, squirming in your arms as she neared her release; you weren’t going to last much, not when she started whispering your name over and over, shakingly violently in your arms. You came right after her, shooting thick ropes of cum directly into your hoodie.
Your arms were fast to hold her against you, keeping her body close as you came down from your high together. Tara's head fell on your shoulder, her hot breath tickling the skin of your neck, you could feel her smile.
“You okay?” Being the first one to break the silence, you asked in a soft voice, running your hands up and down her back, feeling her heart beating like crazy; yours weren't different, smashing itself against your ribcage.
“I'm great.” She mumbled out, weak and out of breath. “Are you okay?”
Feeling the nod of your head, she pulled away from her hiding spot. When you met her eyes, a pinkish color was filling the skin around her cheekbones, coloring the freckles that spread across her face, and unlike you were wondering inside your head, things didn't look awkward after that; Tara still had that familiar, warm look in her eyes when she leaned in to place a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips.
“Are you proud of yourself?”
“For making you cum without barely touching you?” Tara laughed in a proud voice, avoiding looking down as she felt your length still comfortably placed in between her slick folds.
Your hands were firm on her waist when you lifted her hips, guiding the tip of your cock against her sensitive bundle of nerves before slowly sliding in her cunt at the same time she fell back on your thighs, trying to catch her breath at the sudden invasion. A small smile on her face at the feeling of being full, her velvety walls clenching hard around your shaft, still recovering from her orgasm.
“For the fact that I'm still pretty hard.” Pressing kisses over her jawline, you thrusted up, a surprised moan escaping her throat. “Can you feel it? How hard I am? How good I'm filling you?”
“Yes…” She choked out, wrinkling your hoodie in her fingers, trying to find support on your shoulders when your hands forced her up, your member coated in a thin layer of her arousal before sliding her back down. “I'm very proud of myself.” The breathy confession made you smile against her neck, softly biting on her jugular before your movements gained a steady rhythm, mixing with the wet sounds and the melody tone of her voice calling out your name for every neighbor to hear.
#✍️#tara carpenter#turning point#evilwednesday#tara carpenter x y/n#tara carpenter fanfic#tara carpenter x female reader#tara carpenter x reader#tara carpenter x you#tara carpenter x gn!reader#tara carpenter x g!p reader#tara carpenter x gender neutral reader#tara x y/n#tara x female reader#tara x reader#tara x g!p reader#tara x you#tara x gender neutral reader#tara x gn!reader#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x female reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna x reader#jenna x y/n#jenna x you#jenna x g!p reader
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holi-blaze || jeon jungkook (m)
title: holi-blaze
pairing: dealer!jeon jungkook x (f)reader
genre/rating: f*ckbuddies/unestablished relationship, smut, mature/explicit, 18+
summary: it's your first time spending the holidays together, and jungkook isn't in the mood. but... you think you can change his mind.
warnings: listen…..“that’s OUR man, thank you to OUR man!!!”, swearing, mentions w**d, mentions Christmas/holidays, protected s*x but mentions unprotected s*x, spanking, reader wears lingerie, a** worshipping, back shots, missionary, b*ndage/restraints, f*ngering, teasing/foreplay, a touch of roleplay (Jungkook might have a little crush on Martha May Whovier), back scratching, praise, squ*rting, tongue kissing, make up s*x, Dom/sub themes, n*pple sucking, biting, begging, some aftercare, mistletoe… or not??, idk why i’m smiling but i love them lol
wc: 2.5k
release date: december 30th, 2023; 11:33pm est
note: it’s been about 4 months since i posted. this is embarrassing. anyway, i didn’t edit this bc i didn’t have a computer. this’ll be the last update for this series for a while so i hope this holds you. i have a bigger project i’m working on currently so… i hope to see you in 2024. love you !!
series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 version | inbox | join the taglist
“Aye, I’m home! Where are…”
Jungkook finds you standing in his living room when he enters his apartment. He probably expected to find you bundled up on the couch watching a holiday marathon, and that’s exactly what you plan on doing.
That was until you walked in and discovered everything he’s been hiding from you. Now you know why he hasn’t invited you over in two weeks.
All month he’s been complaining about the holidays and pissing on your parade whenever you get excited about the TikTok holiday DIYs. Only for him to decorate his entire living room like it’s a Holiday Cheermeister. He definitely has outdone himself with this surprise. Now, it’s time to return the favor.
His keys fall on the floor, and you can only imagine what’s going through his mind.
“Oh…” He takes a long pause, processing the image before him. “Damn, love.”
You hope that’s a good sign. This is your first time wearing lingerie, and you aren’t even sure if Jungkook is into it.
“Um… Your keys?”
“Come here,” he beckons.
Your marabou heels move across the floor, feathers tickling your oiled skin with each step. Your matching robe—thin and sheer—barely conceals your lack of clothing underneath it. You can feel the fabric dragging behind you as it's carried by a gentle breeze.
Jungkook’s brown eyes never look away as you strut in his direction. When you approach him, you’re nearly swept off your feet by how good he smells.
His finger motions for you to spin and show him the entire outfit.
“Twirl, baby.”
You purposefully take your time and give him the 360 view, letting your robe fall once your back is facing him. You’re starting to feel a bit more confident now that you’ve gotten the big reveal out of the way. Jungkook biting his bottom lip tells you that he likes what he sees so far.
“Sexy. Like Martha May.”
You whisper to yourself as you take a step closer. “Martha May, huh?”
Jungkook nods.
“ Yeah… I’m high key fucking with it, though.”
Now, that’s good to hear because he’s given you an idea.
“Well, thank you… Mr. Grinch.”
Jungkook tilts his head, pretending to be confused. Eventually, he reveals a mischievous grin.
“I’ve been that bad, huh?”
“The worst,” you reply.
You don’t pull away when he reaches for your hand. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve had any contact. You’re deprived; desperate.
Even if you were still mad at him, your pride is long gone. So, instead of pouncing on him, you allow him to guide you to the bedroom.
“It only gets worse, love.”
Well, damn.
“How much worse?” you quiz, already knowing the answer to the question. He looks over his shoulder as he opens his bedroom door.
“You’re gonna fuck around and find out if you keep playing with me.”
As Jungkook guides you into his room, you try to hold back your smile. You always find thrill in testing his patience. Whatever it takes for him to pound you into his mattress, you’ll try it.
Once inside, he walks over to the bed and sits on his bed. You grip onto his green bomber jacket while he caresses and gently kneads your thighs, making you melt into his hands. You push out your chest, so he can have a better look at the red lace that barely covers your tits.
He can’t stop himself from staring. His mouth waters as the sinful thoughts run through his mind. During his journey all over your body, his hand accidentally touches something you’re clutching in your right hand.
He frowns. “What are those for?”
You hold up the cordless lights that you snatched from your little desk tree at work with a smirk.
“Dunno,” you shrug. “They’re yours. Get creative.”
Jungkook stands up, and you place the cord in his hand. He gestures towards the bed, and tells you to get on it.
“Alright, go,” he orders.
“Okay.”
You climb on the bed, positioning yourself on your hands and knees. He didn’t tell you to lie down, but you figured he’d appreciate seeing your outfit from this angle.
“Like this?”
“Just like that,” he approves.
It isn’t long before you feel the palms of his hands touching your ass. They’re still a little cold, but eventually heat up due to the warmth of your flesh. You know that he could do this for hours, just admiring the way it jiggles and how soft it feels in his hands.
However, tonight he wastes no time giving your pussy attention, the opening in the center of your panties giving him easy access to your slit.
“Fuck.”
His reaction makes you want to turn around and see his reaction, but you’re afraid you might ruin the foreplay and beg him to fuck you now. So, with clenched teeth, you try to suppress your eagerness to have him inside of you; but you’re already close to failing.
“One of these days I’m just gonna say fuck it and raw dog you.”
You lose control of your outbursts when he pushes his thumb into your pussy. You beg him for more, but he just pulls out, leaving you disappointed.
“Jungkook!”
He chuckles. “Alright, alright. Give me your hands, love.”
At Jungkook’s request, you move your hands behind you.
He’s so close that his breath tickles the tiny hair on the back of your neck. Your body shivers as his fingers gently touch your skin, sliding down your arm until he reaches your hands.
When he speaks, the sound of his voice makes you weak. No matter how hard you clench your knees are nothing but jelly, making it nearly impossible to support your weight.
“You still like to be tied up and shit, right?”
Oh unholy fucking night.
“I do.”
“That’s my girl,” he boasts.
Your heart begins to race with excitement when you feel the cord tightening around your wrists. It doesn’t take Jungkook a long time to secure a few knots.
“Is this okay? Not too tight?”
Despite your position once he bends you over again, your body is still relaxed. You know you’re in safe hands. He’s earned your trust when it comes to your body, so you don’t mind if he takes control. You actually enjoy it more than he does.
“No, I’m fine,” you answer. “I’m excited.”
“Hm. I can tell.”
It is then you realize that your thighs are rubbing together, smearing a mess of your sticky juices between them. The sound of Jungkook spreading your legs has you burying your face in his sheets.
“No hiding.”
You lift your head and nod. “Sorry.”
“It’s all good. Do you remember we play?”
“You call the shots. I’m in control.”
Jungkook hums his approval, but before he can ask you anything else.
“...And I remember how to free myself,” you add. “Just in case.”
“You’re so perfect,” he praises.
A bit of pride swells in your chest when he says this. He tells you this almost every day, but it still makes you smile from ear to ear.
The next thing you hear is Jungkook fishing for condoms in his nightstand drawer. Once he finds them, he returns and removes his clothes. You catch a glimpse of his figure behind you, and it’s that image you’ll hold on to when he’s taking you from behind.
When Jungkook spreads your globes, a small moan escapes your lips despite your attempt to bite it back.
“Ready?”
“So, so…ready,” you reply.
You whimper as the tip of his dick probes gently at your entrance. Your body is shaking from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. It feels like it's been months since you’ve felt his thick cock stretching you open.
“I know,” he coos. “Just relax, sweetheart.”
You take a deep breath to calm yourself; and eventually, your muscles relax. Jungkook steals this moment to slowly slide into you.
“Fuck!”
“Gotta fuck you now, love,” Jungkook groans.
He starts fucking you slowly, but fast enough to have an orgasm brewing deep within your core.
You can hear him panting as he digs his nails into your skin. Your shoes drop to the floor because your toes are curling from the pleasure you’re receiving. If Jungkook weren’t gripping your waist, you’d be lying on your belly because you’re trembling too much to keep yourself up.
“You feel like a fucking glove.”
You know he can feel your walls squeezing and hugging his cock, desperately trying to keep him inside. Your moans become louder which each slap Jungkook delivers to your ass. The pain ripples down your globes, traveling straight to your dripping pussy—leaking onto his throbbing dick.
“So deep…”
It’s not long before you’re squirting all over him. He laughs, not caring about his ruined sheets.
“There she goes.”
Jungkook then starts loosening your restraints, leaving you confused. You’re afraid you messed up, but he assures you that’s not the case.
“I need to see you,” he utters.
Jungkook frees your hands and flips you over swiftly, leaving your head spinning. He allows your eyes to focus before he lowers himself and aligns with your entrance once more. You wrap your limbs around him, bringing him closer so you can feel his warm skin pressed against yours.
Your wetness allows him to enter you smoothly. The intrusion isn’t as intense as before, but it leaves you breathless due to your sensitivity.
You accept the kisses he leaves down your neck. He drags his hot tongue across your skin agonizingly slow while he’s buried inside you, not moving an inch until you’re begging him to.
“Baby, please fuck me. I can’t—”
“Just give me a second, love,” he whispers.
Jungkook’s mouth finds your breasts, and he takes his time giving each of them attention. Your back arches off the bed when he wraps his lips around your nipple.
You try to be patient, but your body can’t handle any more teasing. Your hips begin to move on their own, immediately grabbing Jungkook’s attention.
“So eager,” he teases, gripping your hips to stop you.
“Jungkook, I need to cum.”
“Yeah?... Wanna make another mess?”
“Please.”
He pulls out and then with a snap of his hips, he slams into you. He does it again, and again—making you scream his name. You drag your nails down his back, making him hiss from the stinging pain traveling across his skin.
“Do it,” he grunts, fucking you deeper. “Cum.”
“Oh, fuck.”
You stop holding it in, and finally allow the tightened coil to snap. Pleasure ripples through your body, and everything goes silent except for the familiar ringing in your ears. Your eyes roll back and your body stiffens in Jungkook’s arms.
“Fuck! You’re squeezing so tight.”
“I’m cumming!” you scream.
He keeps fucking you, talking you through it until you finally calm down enough to relax your limbs. Jungkook’s soothing voice brings you back to reality.
“Good, baby. That’s good.”
You lie on your back, tears in your eyes as you watch him above you. His body trembles as he tries to hold on, but you know he’s close. You can tell by the way he twitches inside of you.
“This is my shit, understand? My pussy,” he claims. “Okay?”
You nod weakly, still feeling the bliss of your release.
“Yeah, it’s yours. Only yours.”
“And you’re mine too, right?”
He doesn’t even have to ask. Of course, you are.
“Always.”
You pull him closer and kiss his lips, but both of you become greedy for more. His strokes are gentle but you still gasp, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure start to fill the room as you deepen the kiss.
You’re dizzy by the time he pulls away, unable to focus on anything but the lingering taste of him on your lips. Once again, his voice brings you back.
“Damn it,” he growls.
After two more uncoordinated thrusts, he reaches his peak and spills his warm cum into the condom. Panting and breathless, he falls on top of you, and you start running your fingers through his hair.
You stay in this position for only a few minutes, before he’s climbing out of bed.
“Wait—”
You try to grab his arm, but he grabs his sweats and slips away, leaving a small pout on your face.
“I’ll be right back, love.”
You sigh. “Okay.”
You wait a few minutes before you let your curiosity run wild. You begin to wonder what he’s doing, so you decide to go look for him.
Just as you enter the living room, Jungkook appears from the kitchen with an ice pack and a bottle of water.
“How are you?” he asks, handing you the little blue compress. “It’s for your wrists.”
“I’m okay, you?”
Jungkook nods. “Still seeing stars, but I’ve never felt better.”
Silence follows, but it’s peaceful. You use the moment to take in everything once again.
“Thank you,” you say eventually.
“For?”
“All this!”
You point around the room at all of the decor he must have spent hours putting up. It could honestly have been a little stocking and you still would have appreciated his effort. You know he only did it for you, even though he wasn’t in the mood.
“I was just trying to make it up to you,” he shrugs.
“You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to.”
You smile. “Well, thanks Grinchy. But I didn’t want to force you.”
He promises that he didn’t feel obligated, and you take his word for it. It’s been a challenge but you’ve learned to accept when he offers to do something nice for you. So if it involves spending time with him, you’ll accept every gift he gives you.
Placing the ice pack on the coffee table, you step forward and wrap your arms around him.
“I’m trying, love,” he sighs.
“You’re doing great,” you assure.
“No, I mean… It’s been two weeks, and you’re still wearing that and…”
You realize he’s lowkey asking for round two. All you need is some water and you’ll be good to go.
“I’m on top this time,” you call out over your shoulder. You’re almost halfway across the room when he stops you.
“Hold on…”
You turn around only to find him standing there with his hands in his pockets.
“Hm?”
Jungkook lifts one of his hands and pulls out a tiny sealed bag. It doesn’t take you but a second to figure out what it is. But what leaves you puzzled is the way he’s holding it over his head.
“I don’t know much about this shit but, I think you’re still supposed to kiss me.”
Wow. He can be cute when he wants to. Of course, you return to leave a kiss on his cheek.
“That’s cute, Jungkook. But I think you got it wrong.”
“Oh, yeah?”
This time you grab his hand, and he doesn’t resist when you start dragging him towards the bedroom.
“I think I’m supposed to put my pussy on your face, then you kiss me,” you propose.
“Okay, maybe this holiday shit isn’t so bad.”
Shaking your head, you make your way through the dark hallway until you reach Jungkook’s room.
“Wait until you see the chain I bought you,” you mumble.
“Huh?”
“Nothing, baby. Come on.”
You take him to bed, and his apartment is anything but silent for the rest of the night. This was your first Christmas together; but best believe, a lot of traditions were made.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts fics#jungkook fics#jungkook imagines#bts imagines#jeon jungkook smut#jeon jungkook fanfic#aaagustd.fics
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NOW PLAYING…. SWIM
So hard to ignore ya, keep your body open, swim
ARTIST! CHOSO x FEM!READER
sum. your poor roommate was stumped drawing the naked female body. pictures weren’t working and porn definitely didn’t help. so you did the next best thing, you modeled for him.
cw: reader is black (obviously), body image issues, modern au, choso & reader are 19-21, reader’s a little dumb, porn mention, ooc choso (this is my first time writing for him bare with me 🙏🏾), oral sex (f! receiving), overstimulation, soft dom choso, size difference, pet names, praise, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, roommates to lovers, slight possessiveness, pussy drunk choso(?), etc. unedited, please excuse grammar & spelling mistakes.
this was so rushed i’m sorry, but hope you enjoy it <3
The sweet sound of Erykah Badu surrounded the kitchen, soft murmurs of her lyrics traveling from your lips. Your eyes focused on the pan, sliding your spatula under the bacon strips with a soft hum— flipping them soon after. You were dressed in a simple random tshirt — probably your roommate’s — and shorts. So focused on your food, you became a little startled when heavy footsteps headed towards the kitchen, turning to spot Choso entering.
“Morning, Choso.” You spoke in a soft tone, glancing to see the man approaching the fridge, opening it and kneeling to inspect the shelves. He gave a soft morning back, clearly still tired. It was nine in the morning after all, and he typically spent his nights drawing or working. You knew nothing about being a artist, but it seemed stressful. You always felt bad watching his tall form drag into your shared home and to his room— or even the couch if he was tired enough.
“You want some breakfast.”
“No thanks.”
You pulled a sour face, placing the finished pieces of bacons onto a plate, reaching over for the carton of eggs. “You just woke up.. you should at least eat before drawing.” You were always so worried about him, from his sleeping habits to his eating ones; you were surprised the man was still walking on two legs. You stiffened as his large form brushed across you, reaching for a piece of bacon before turning to leave. You shook your head with a small smile, staring after him. “You know that’s not what I meant!”
After breakfast you had settled down on the couch, staring boredly at the random show you had selected. You turned into the soft halloween themed blanket, sighing softly to yourself as you stretched out upon the cushions. Your attention soon drifted away from the show, rather to the man you called your roommate. Breathing softly, you quickly realized something. You hadn’t seen the poor thing in hours.
Rising up from the couch, you slid your feet into your slides, walking towards the back of the house towards the bedrooms. You approached his door, knocking against it for a moment and softly calling his name. When you got no response, you grasped the door handle, turning it open and entering. Your eyes peered over the room; his bed unmade, black blankets and sheets disbelieved, random posters hanging on the walls, while his lanky form was hunched over his desk. You stepped fully inside, eyes widening a little. “Oh!”
His chair switched around, you now able to fully see the porn playing on his computer. To your relief, you hadn’t caught him doing anything scandalous. Instead, he looked quiet bored. You pursed your lips a bit, “Are you… watching porn?”
“Not pleasurably, no.” Choso muttered, clicking his computer to pause the video. He sighed a little, leaning back in his chair. You approached his side, glancing down at his desk to spot the many balled up papers and his opened sketchbook. The man watched as you lifted the book of his desk, you delicately flipping through the pages. Each one was littered with sketches of the female body, little notes accompanying a few. Others completely ruined by dark, harsh scribbles. You hummed a bit, leaning against his desk. “You’re trying to draw a naked woman?”
Choso nodded at your words, rubbing his hands up and down his pants. “I tried photos.. other sketches, and now— this.” He motioned towards the raunchy video on his screen, hands falling back to his lap in another soft sigh. “Nothing is working out.” He seemed a bit annoyed or rather depressed, a thought that saddened you just a tad. From the dates residing on the pages, it was clear he was working on this for a while. And while a few of the sketches looked good, you were sure they weren’t up to his professor’s standards. You placed the sketchbook back down with a little hum, thinking to yourself.
Until, possibly the greatest idea popped into your mind.
You placed your hands on your chest, turning to him with a sweet smile. “I could model for you! I’m sure that’s what you’re missing; something alive and in your face.” You watched as his eyes slowly widened, dipping across your form for a split second before rising back to your face. Choso sat unmoving, quiet as he took in your words. It begun to worry you when a minute had passed and he was still completely silent. You bit the inside of your cheek, hands falling to your sides. “Or… not?”
Choso seemed to finally breathe, blinking as his gaze turned away from you. “It’s uh.. You do realize you’ll be completely naked. In front of me. And I’ll be drawing you..” He spoke softly, slowly; assuring you heard every single word he uttered. He licked his lips hesitantly as you nodded with that same sweet smile. “It could take a while, [Name]. Plus I would be showing my professor this. Are you sure you’re comfortable with that?”
You nodded for about the umpteenth time, as if completely unfazed by this. “I don’t mind! You’ve seen me half-naked when I got drunk that one time and threw up all over myself.” You shrugged; smiling a little as you heard him snort softly muttering something like I remember that. Choso looked over his desk once more, looking over his options. Finally after a few moments he nodded, turning back to you. “Okay, sure. You need like.. ten minutes to get ready?”
Your eyes widened at his words, smile faltering for a moment as you brought your hands close. “Oh, oh! You want to draw me now?” The words came out in a soft waver, the situation finally settling into your mind. It seemed easy enough when you spoke about it, but now that it was about to happen? You weren’t so sure it was a smart idea.
Choso nodded at you, “Yeah. I’ve been working on this a while, I want to get it over with..” He spoke, staring down at the manilla colored pages for a moment before his dark eyes fluttered back to your face. “If that’s okay.”
“Of course! Yeah that’s fine. I’ll.. Ill just go get ready!” You forced a smile, turning on your heel and basically racing out of his bedroom into your own. Shutting the door behind you, you felt your heart drop to your ass. You really fucked up this time, you really just had to open your big mouth. Getting naked infront of your roommate? One that you’ve had a very, very small amount of feelings for? You wanted to shoot yourself just to get out of the situation. That would be much easier then saying you changed your mind and watching the poor artist delve back down his hole of stress and anxiety over his art.
You bit your lip, walking infront of your mirror; glancing yourself over. Your fingers curled under his your tshirt, yanking it off your body before moving onto your shorts and panties. Now completely naked you turned, grimacing a bit at prominent stretch marks etched upon your dark mocha skin. You wrapped your arms around your stomach, anxiety trickling down your spine.
What if he didn’t like what he sees? Probably would tell you nevermind, after seeing your body. Oh, you wanted to cry from that thought. Instead, however— you slapped your cheeks, the sting knocking you away from your insecurities. Everything was going to be fine. As nonchalant as Choso was, he wouldn’t comment on your body in a negative light. He simply wasn’t that type of person. So, with a different pep in your step; you approached your closet to grab your black silk robe, pulling it onto your body and securing it at your waist. You waltzed out of your bedroom with a false sense of confidence, approaching his open door and walking in.
Choso’s chair was now turned towards his bed which was now made, a silk blanket tossed across it. He was sitting waiting, sketchbook rested upon his lap as his leg bounced; eyes shifting to you the moment you entered. You gave a nervous smile, walking inside and taking a seat on the bed. “I’ve never modeled for anyone before, I hope I do alright.”
He smiled a bit at you, the tension of the room dissipating the moment he did. “You’re a smart girl, you’ll be fine.” Choso spoke, not noticing the way your eyebrows shot up at his words. Instead of speaking you simply nodded, hands coming to the knot infront of you. You delicately undid the robe, pulling it off your body and placing it off to the side. Once finished you brought your hands to your chest, legs pushed together as you glanced over at the man. Gauging his reaction— slightly disappointed it was unreadable.
“H-How should I pose?”
Choso breathed softly, straightening in his chair as his gaze switched over you. “Is it alright if I touch you?.. It’s easier then explaining.” He didn’t move until you nodded, standing up from his seat and walking towards you. He gently pushed on your shoulder, murmuring for you to lay across his bed. You obeyed, back hitting the soft silky blankets, dark colored braids fanning around your features. Your skin went warm as he gently grabbed your calf, bending your legs to lay your feet against the bed. The artist took a step back for a moment, looking you over once again before nodding to himself. “We can take a few breaks when you get cold or achy.”
“Okay..” You spoke in a sing-song tone, watching as he sat back down. His hands delicately grabbed his sketchbook and pencil, assuring he was at the middle of the manilla page before gliding the lead across it. You breathed softly, laying completely still as not to ruin the image— while also, trying to ignore his gaze. Which wasn’t an easy task. It was calculating, focused completely on your body and nothing more. Sketching you with his eyes and then his fingers, pressing the pencil into the paper. It was intense, and you felt as if you couldn’t breathe under it.
Moments of silence passed, his scribbling, soft swears, and brief erasing the only sound. You soon began to relax under his gaze, feeling your anxiety seep away from your body. With how comfortable the blankets were, you could almost fall asleep. Almost.
His soft swears and scribbles kept interrupting you, and eyes blinking open to spot the small frustrated look over taking his features. You frowned a little, tapping your finger against your collarbone and adjusting your hips. “Is something wrong?” You called softly, watching his eyes snap from the page and over to you.
“No its.. it’s fine.”
You pursed your lips, sitting up for a moment and reaching for your robe. “We can take a small break if you’re not.” You grabbed it, pulling it over your body lazily. You stood up from his bed, walking over to stand beside him. On the page were a few sketches of you, some started while others were scribbled out. You hummed a bit, “These look nice.. why didn’t you finish them?”
“It’s..” Choso sighed softly, rising the sketchbook up higher. He seemed to search for the words for a moment, finally looking at you. “I can’t focus.”
“Focus?” You questioned, squinting at the pages with a confused expression. You glanced back at him, giving a nervous smile. “You seem to be focusing just fine, you just have t..” Your words drifted off as the male set his sketchbook off to the side, standing up from his chair. You glanced up at him, sucking in a breath when you noticed how intense his gaze was. Before you couldn’t distinguish it at all, but now? Oh, you knew that emotion all to well— that desire swirling in his eyes. Your breath hitched as he came close, hand reaching towards your own and gently grabbing it. Your grip loosened, the silky black robe falling to the ground before you, revealing your body to him once again. He breathed the moment he laid eyes on your form, hands hovering as if scared to touch you.
“Can’t believe you allowed me to see you like this..” Choso murmured more to himself then you, lips dropping as if in awe— as if he was truly seeing you for the first time. His eyes couldn’t remain on one point, dancing across your form and soaking you in. You felt so hot under your skin, despite the fact he hadn’t laid a finger on you.
“Choso.. Please touch me.” You finally spoke, voice coming out in a small whine. His eyes snapped back to your face, gauging the way your pretty lips formed a pout. That was enough for him, enclosing his arm around you and tugging you into his body, planting his lips against you. The kiss was slowly and calculated, a hand of his rising to gently grab the back of your head; tilting it so he could kiss you how he wished. His tongue prodded your plump lips, slithering into your mouth as he pushed forward. The moment the back of your knees hit the bed he was laying you on it, large form hovering above you; a hand pressed beside your head.
Your hands slid up his covered arms, gripping his shirt as he somehow deepened the kiss, taking your mouth as his own; tongue curling around and sucking your own appendage. Moments continued of the sweet lip locking, pulling away when air was needed. Soft pants entered the room, Choso leaning on his hunches, hands carrying down your body to your thighs, bending your legs and spreading them. You breathed as his eyes traced your form, heat emitting from them.
“I wasted your time, [Name]..”
“Hm?” You blinked in confusion, hands falling from his arms and to the bed, tilting your head up at him. Choso glanced at your face for a moment before he came to lean over you again, sucking kisses into your neck.
“I’m never letting anyone else see you like this. Never. Doesn’t matter if I drew it or not.” The words flew from his mouth in a deep tone, tracing his canines across your skin. His kisses lowered down your body to the valley between your breasts, lowering to your stomach, and finally.. where you needed him most. His strong hands grabbed the underside of your thighs, spreading your legs open for him. Choso breathed heavily at the sight of you, leaning down to kiss your mound. The action caused you to twitch, glancing down at his fluffy buns between your legs.
A soft oh, escaped you the moment his tongue separated your folds, lazily carrying across. The action alone causes your hands to travel to his hair, fingers curling and gripping the moment his lips wrapped around your clit. He was so gentle; carefully sucking, tongue gliding across the sensitive bud as his hands gripped your legs. Choso pressed his face against your wetting sex even more, lapping you up— slowly getting drunk from your taste. The man couldn’t believe you offered to model naked for him, completely bare; across his blankets. And he definitely couldn’t believe his head was between your legs, eating you up as if you were his last meal.
The pleasure trickled across your body, eyes pinched closed as you struggled against closing your legs around his head. The feeling was far too foreign, far too much— you couldn’t think about anything but his tongue and his lips, pulling soft moans out of your body. Your hips rose into his face, smothering him with your pussy; a groan of his vibrating your body. The man pulled back for a moment, gaining his breath back before he was diving back in; tongue circling your clit, making you a mess. Your fingers began to ache from hard you were clenching him, gasping as you felt him rest your legs on his shoulders, hands now falling to your ass to grip you. Pulling you even closer.
His name fell from your lips in a sweet tone, back arched as your eyes were pinched closed from the pleasure. It didn’t take long for your end to build closer and closer, moving your hips along to expert movements of his tongue. The moment the appendage pushed inside you, however, you were lost; crying out as your came all over his face.
Choso gripped you tighter, lapping up your mess, ignoring the soft whines you exhibited from the sensitivity. He finally released you once he was done, pulling back and breathing as he leaned his against your thigh, eyes looking up at you. From the way you were panting; pretty lips parted with a glossy film in your eyes, he had half a mind to go right back between your legs.
Instead he rose over your form, hand grasping your hip as your legs hung loosely on his waist. He smiled at you, leaning down to kiss your chin. “So beautiful…I’ve always thought so. The moment we became roommates.” His words were kind, soft, a distraction to the hand carrying down your body until his two fingers curled inside you, pushing all the way down to his knuckles. He followed as you jumped from the pleasure, watching your hand wrap around his wrist. “Now I get to make you feel good.. get to see you all beautiful under me.” Choso murmured, leaning to kiss you once again. His fingers started a slow pace inside you, pushing against your velvety walls, stretching you open from the thickness of them.
Your legs shook, moaning into his mouth before breaking the kiss to gasp the moment you felt his thumb circle your swollen bud. “Choso..” You spoke sweetly, eyebrows pinched close nails digging into his skin as his thrust grew faster. As amazing as it felt to you; his strong, long appendages pushing you open— you needed more. Your eyes opened, leaning up to brush your lips across his own. “Need you..” You spoke against them, other hand coming to wrap around his neck. To your dismay, the man shook his head at you, continued to scissor his fingers inside you.
“Choso—“
“I’m not going to rush.. I don’t want to hurt you.” Choso spoke against your lips, curling his fingers up to brush across that spongy spot inside you. He smiled at the muffled whine that escaped you, sliding a third finger inside. “Be good.. just wait.” He promised, pressing his finger harsher against your clit, soft rubs turning into fast tight circles. The artist continued this treatment for a while, you feeling another orgasm approaching. Despite how close you were, the careful thrusts of his fingers stopped, pulling them out of you.
Despite missing the warmth, you watched in excitement as the man began to push down his sweats and boxers, breathing softly as his cock came into view. A lighter color than the rest of his body, heavy and long, reaching just below his navel. The tip was flushed a soft red, thick— sure to stretch got completely. The thought alone caused our legs to shake, warm flushed hot in anticipation.
Choso came close, crown of his length gliding across your wet heat; coating himself in your essence. The movement alone had the two of you hissing, his hands tight on your hips as he slowly rocked his own. Once he felt he was lubricated enough, he was using a hand to line up with your entrance, slowly pushing in. The man swallowed as he felt your walls clamp around him, hunching over your body as he breathed. His eyes looked you over, leaning down to gently kiss the pained expression away.
“Takin’ me so well, princess.. I’m almost there.” Choso whispered into your skin, slowly pushing the rest of himself into you— bottoming out. He shuddered as he felt you pulse and throb around him, attempting to keep his hips still, struggling entirely. He closed his eyes, placing his face into your neck, smiling when he felt your hands grip his shirt. Gentle kisses traced your skin, a hand massaging your hip to coax you into relaxing. Moments passed before he was sure you were fine, pulling his hips backs slowly and experimentally. When he pushed in, and you only moaned in pleasure rather than pain; he knew he was fine.
Rising away from your neck, the man pulled his hips back again only pushing back in with more much force then before. He watched in awe at the way your lips fell open, honeyed moans escaping you as he rocked into you. The man wasn’t lying when he said he found you beautiful the moment you became his roommate. He hated himself, actually. Knowing any glance at you and his cock was twitching, imagining what it would be like to be with you.. to touch you, to feel every single part of you. Choso truly hated himself for thinking of his roommate in such a way.
But, he was grateful you returned the sentiment.
The moment he was placing his weight behind his thrusts your soft mind turned into sharp cries, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you held onto him for stability. You were losing yourself, succumbing to the pleasure he was giving you, opening your body to him and only him. “Ch..choso, fuck!” You keened out, legs shaking around his form. You gasped as he came closer, pushing deeper inside to fuck right against your g-spot. Your hand lowered to his stomach, the man catching your wrist to turn it— locking your fingers.
“I know, I know.” The man cooed, soft swears escaping him each time he plunged in and out of your wet entrance. He pressed your hand against the bed, watching the way you attempted to hide your face— causing a disgruntled sound to escape him. Choso released your hand, grabbing your throat gently to turn you to face him. He grinned down at your wide eyes, “Keep your eyes right here, focus on me [Name].” The artist’s words came out soft, a complete contrast to the way he was bullying your insides. Even so, you obeyed; staring up at him even as your eyes grew blurry from the pleasure filled tears that collected in your vision.
You felt a familiar pressure in your stomach, legs wrapping around his waist tightly as your moans became shaky. In the midst of your babbles of his name and swears, you informed him you were close, causing the man to chuckle softly. “Hold it.”
“Choso..” His name came out in a whiney drag, tears trailing down your cheeks to which he kissed away. Again, a completely sweet contrast to the way he was fucking you.
“I—I can’t.”
“You can.” Choso confirmed softly, angling his hips so he brushed against your swollen nub with each thrust. “I know you can.. be good and wait for me, beautiful.” He breathed, slamming into your before his words could even escape. Though you whined again, you quickly listened, holding back your orgasm— which much trouble given the way he didn’t let up with his thrusts.
Moments of torture passed, your mind lost to the pleasure but still holding on just a bit. Choso was close now, thrusts desperate and uncoordinated as his groans turned guttural, face falling into your neck. Just when you thought you would burst he rasped into your ear, “Make me a mess, princess.”
You listened instantly, creaming all over his length, walls clenching tightly around him. Choso stuttered, plunging himself deeply before releasing inside you, filling you to the brim; shaking as you milked him. Your mixed pants entered the room, his hips stilling as he simply laid on top of you. Your arms wrapped around him, breathing him in with an exhausted smile.
“Are you really not gonna use my model?”
You whined a bit as he rolled his hips, grasping your leg and hitching it close to him. Choso pulled back to glance at you, thumb caressing the stretch marks on your skin.
“You’re all mine. No one else is allowed to see.”
#mani writes ━━ ★#mechahrt#mdni#jjk smut#jjk x black reader#black!reader#jjk x fem!reader#smut#choso kamo#kamo choso#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo x female reader#choso kamo x black reader#choso kamo x black!reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x y/n#reader insert#curvy reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n
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omg hii i haven’t requested stuff before anywhere so idk if i’m doing this right but 😭😭 i would loveee a luke castellan imagine where it’s like an angsty friends to lovers with a happy ending… kind of like the song friends by chase atlantic idk sjdieie (ps i loveee ur writing ur so talented)
brutal — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns (yknow the drill), slight cursing
a/n: did i watch mamma mia twice today? yes. will i watch it again tomorrow? yes.
masterlist !
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱
y/n l/n wasn't sure why luke castellan was acting weird. was it something she had done? maybe it's his time of the month. she'll never know because she's too afraid to ask. she hasn't seen the hermes' boy all day, and wasn't going to bother looking for him now.
y/n was supposed to be mad at luke. the two have been inseparable since they both arrived at camp. so she was pleasantly surprised when luke had just shoved her off whenever she asked if he was okay.
the girl busied herself this evening by collecting hay bales to bring to the stables. this was usually grover's job, but he was with percy and annabeth on a quest chiron gave them earlier that week.
she wasn't expecting any visitors, so to say she was taken aback by luke showing up would be an understatement.
"what are you doing here?" she asks, not bothering to look up from her wheelbarrow of hay. she continued filling it while luke walked closer to her.
"i wanted to check on you. you seemed to he distancing yourself today."
y/n scoffs, "i haven't been the distant one."
luke rolls his eyes, "what are you talking about?"
y/n doesn't respond.
"you think i'm the one being distant?" luke asks.
y/n shrugs before responding with sarcasm laced in between her words, "i figured since you haven't talked to me all week, and every time i asked if you were okay you'd turn around and avoid answering me. that's just a guess."
"i'm not trying to avoid you," luke responds, yet y/n scoffs again, not believing a word the boy says.
"you don't believe me?"
y/n finally looks at luke, "what was i supposed to think? that we were fine? while you were busying ignoring me and making me feel like a shitty friend?"
it's luke's turn to stay silent, which only makes y/n groan and go back to her task at hand. luke follows her. he grabs her shoulder to try and stop her. y/n only shrugs him off.
luke takes in a deep breath, "do you want to know why i've been so standoffish with you?"
"only if you don't avoid me this time, sure, have at it," y/n doesn't stop walking, and she can only assume luke's following her as his voice doesn't falter.
"i started realizing i have feelings for you," he pauses and y/n takes the silence to turn around. she drops the wheelbarrow and faces luke.
"i'm not used to it okay? so i- i figured if maybe i ignored you the feelings would go away. gods it's stupid, believe me i know. it hurt to see you get so upset."
"so why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" y/n questions.
luke shrugs, "i was worried it'd ruin our friendship."
"oh so ignoring me wouldn't ruin it either? okay," y/n turns back around and starts pushing the wheelbarrow in the direction of the stables again.
luke runs his hands over his face in annoyance, "y/n can you please just listen to me? this is hard okay? i'm not used to liking anyone, especially not you."
y/n stops again, but doesn't look back towards luke.
"especially not you," luke repeats.
"would this be a bad time to say i've liked you since i first got to camp?" y/n still hasn't turned around, and her voice is quiet as she plays with her fingers as a distraction.
luke chuckles, and y/n can picture a blush is appearing on his cheeks.
"i wouldn't say it's the best time, but definitely not bad timing," luke jokes.
y/n finally turns around, with her arms crossed. luke has his hands in his jean pockets. the pair awkwardly stand four feet away from each other. the silence between them is defeaning, and they both know it.
four feet turn into three.
three feet turn into two.
two feet turn into one.
luke brings his hands up to hold both of y/n's cheeks.
"what are you doing?"
"kissing you."
before y/n can get a proper response out, luke pushes his lips against hers. it catches the girl by surprise. she kisses back, because she isn't an idiot, and her hands hold onto luke's wrist. luke pulls away first, and can't help but laugh at y/n's frazzled state.
"you alright?"
"i hate you."
but luke knew she didn't mean it.
#shelbi writes#keerysfreckles#luke castellan#luke castellan pjo#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan x you#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x fem reader#luke castellan x y/n#luke castellan x fem!reader#pjo#pjo tv#pjo show#pjo tv show#pjo series#percy jackson#percy jackson show#percy jackson tv show#percy jackson series#percy jackson and the olympians show#percy jackson and the olympians
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Thanks! My request, please, for Jack is with shy, new to hockey reader, maybe with him getting busted for spoiling her in ways she didn't know (I love every single dynamic you write). After the first game she attends Jack has to brush off Nico's comments that he got her a front row seat, claiming it's just because it was her first hockey game. Especially Luke teasing because Jack just so happened to give her his jersey from his best game, and the skates Jack got her are coincidentally top of the line. All the while he's trying to not seem to desperate to go all in with her bashful self. This is so bad tweak or ignore all of this please and thank you.
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
Everyone had noticed it, yet it was none other than Ellen Hughes who pointed it out.
It was a somewhat surprise to the people in Jack’s life when he told them he had a girlfriend. Like a proper, ‘she’s the one for me’ kind of girlfriend. Ever since he had been drafted, Jack had been hesitant to dive into anything serious, anything beyond a fling or a situationship.
He was the new face of the franchise. He had the weight of everyone’s expectations on his shoulders. He had to prove that he wasn’t just some pretty boy who was decently good at hockey. He had to prove he deserved to be in the NHL, that he deserved to be first pick of the draft.
And at his age, a serious relationship wasn’t exactly high on his priority list.
Until he met you.
The boys had noticed a shift in his behaviour in the early stages of Jack’s relationship with you. The way he would be quick to check his phone after games and practices. The way he seemed quick to shrug off any advances in bars, more than happy to nurse a few drinks and giggle away to whoever he was texting before he disappeared early into the night. The way he just seemed…happier.
Luke was the first to notice something really odd.
“Yeah, my job means I travel around a lot,” he overheard Jack one day, when the boy hadn’t realised Luke had returned early from the option skate. “They are, uh, like road trips, I guess? We are heading down to Dallas tomorrow.”
And then Dawson heard something weird after a game.
“You don’t have to watch,” Jack reassured the person on the other side of the phone, a giddy smile on his face and a blush on his cheeks. “It can get quite long. It doesn’t last twenty minutes, just twenty minutes of actual playing time. It pauses when calls need to be made.”
And then it was Nico.
“No, not a suite seat. I need it beside the glass,” he overheard Jack asking one of the workers at the front office. “Preferably behind the bench. For the next home game.”
It was easy to piece together that Jack was seeing someone. It was clear that she didn’t have much knowledge on the hockey world or how the sport itself worked. And it was clear that Jack seemed eager to teach you, splurging on you in any way he could without you really catching on.
But that plan quickly failed when you finally met Ellen Hughes.
It was coming up to almost a year together when Jack asked you to come to the family skate. It wasn’t the first time you would be meeting his parents, but it would be the first hockey event you showed up to outside of the games. It was the first time you would really be setting foot on the ice yourself.
“Are those your own skates?”
You lifted your head, finding Ellen standing a few feet away with a kind smile on her face. She was already laced up and ready to get on the ice, wrapped up warmly in a similar fashion to yourself. After all, she was the one to give you tips after Jack was unhelpful with his ‘I don’t know, my jersey is pretty warm’ response.
“Yeah, Jack got them for me!” You answered, unable to bite back your smile as you glanced down at your unlaced skates. “He said they were a good starter pair, nice to have a pair of my own so he could drag me out on the ice more.”
“A starter pair?” Ellen questioned, something quite like amusement in her voice.
“What? Are they not?” You asked, a hint of hesitation lacing your words as you glanced down at the skates with doubtful eyes.
“I mean, they are hell of a pair to start with,” Ellen said with a gentle laugh. “Recognise the brand?”
You glanced back at the older woman, shaking your head.
“They are skates for professional skaters, quite a renowned brand too,” Ellen told you, still seeming like there was an underlying joke you weren’t understanding.
Your brows furrowed together. “Oh god, are they…expensive?”
Ellen simply smiled in response.
“Oh my god,” you breathed out, staring down at the skates with a conflicted expression.
“I think I’ll let my son explain everything,” Ellen said before she wandered off, the silence quickly being replaced by Jack who approached with a huge smile on his face.
“Need help?” He asked, but never gave you a chance to answer as he kneeled in front of you, already reaching for the laces of your skates to begin tying them.
You watched him closely. “Jack?”
“Hm?”
“How much did these skates cost?”
The boy froze, his fingers pausing for a few moments too long before muscle memory began to take over.
“Uh, I don’t remember,” Jack eventually blurted out, making a point of keeping his eyes on your skates. The swift movements were quickly slowed down, like he was purposefully dragging it out so he wouldn’t have to look up.
“Jack,” you scolded, though your voice was softer than he expected. “You have to let me pay you back.”
His head snapped up. “Baby, no—”
“You can’t just spend insane amounts of money like that on me!” You argued before he had the chance. “Especially on skates I’ll hardly be using!”
“But we could make you use them more?” Jack bargained with a bashful smile.
You shot him a look.
“Baby,” he sighed as he placed his hands on your knees, squeezing them softly. “I want to splurge on you sometimes. I just wanna show you I care, you know? And I wanna share my love for hockey with you. Help you love it just as much as I do.”
“You don’t need to spend stupid money to make me love it,” you retorted, but you melted at his admission as you placed your hands over his. “No more big purchases without telling me, okay?”
He sighed deeply before nodding. “Okay. Promise.”
“Good,” you smiled as you leaned down to quickly peck his lips whilst you had the chance with no cameras on you. “Now, c’mon. Teach me how to actually use these skates and make them worth your money.”
Jack snorted. “I’ve got you, baby.”
“Good because I haven’t even stood up and I still think I’m about to fall over.”
.
#jack hughes#nhl#new jersey devils#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes x you#jack hughes x y/n#jack hughes fic#jack hughes one shot#nhl x reader#nhl x you#nhl x y/n#nhl fic#nhl one shot
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Something Special - Dean Winchester (smut)
After watching SPN with @writethelifeyouwant this weekend, I needed to write a fic about Dean's "sex has always felt really good" monologue. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader tells Dean that she doesn't get the hype around sex, Dean is set on showing her that it's something truly special
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), friends to lovers, just pure smut basically
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (about 2k words)
header and plot idea by @deathofpeaceofmind
No longer was (y/n) used to the calm beat of her heart, not urged on by the adrenaline thumping through her veins because she was chased by someone, or rather something. No longer was (y/n) used to sitting back with a smile tugging on her lips, allowed to take a few deep breaths without following either Dean or Sam to wherever they were called to. But tonight – for the first time in weeks – (y/n) found herself sitting next to Dean, head placed on his shoulder, hand holding onto a cold bottle of beer. The sounds of the movie the two were watching filled her room, but neither Dean or (y/n) found themselves concentrating on the plot, sharing jokes, thoughts, and questions as the minutes kept blurring by.
“You know,” (y/n) took another sip of her beer, eyes focused on the scene flickering on. The two main characters were about to tumble onto the mattress of their now shared bed, momentarily leaving (y/n) wondering how it must feel to be touched like this by Dean. “I never got the whole excitement about sex. I mean, yes, I guess it can feel good, but it’s nothing special.”
“What?” Dean’s raspy chuckles bubbled out of him, hand reaching for the remote to pause the movie. “Nothing special? It’s the most special thing out there, sweetheart.”
(Y/n) couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling, drowning another sip before she placed the bottle down, fully turning towards Dean. His forest green eyes studied her as if he was trying to figure out if she was possessed, no longer able to guide herself. “Then please, enlighten me. What’s so special about it?”
“Fuck, the guys you’ve been with before must have sucked in bed, huh?” No longer were Dean’s eyes filled with the almost childish glee (y/n) found herself admiring whenever he didn’t notice her staring, no, by now they were filled with something rather serious, something that forced the hairs on her arms to rise. (Y/n) shuffled around, breaking eye contact for a second before she let go of a deep sigh.
“I don’t know, I mean, I never got close to an orgasm with them.” Dean’s warm hand found her chin, forcing (y/n) to look at him. For a few moments neither one of them dared to speak up, trying to communicate without sharing any words, listening to the silent whispers of their hearts like blind wanderers forced to rely on the whispers of the breeze, guiding them along uneasy paths.
“Will you let me? You deserve to experience how good it can actually feel.” It was just a whisper, a sound so quiet (y/n) wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly, and yet her curiosity got the best of her. Slowly she nodded her head, gasping in surprise as Dean’s plush lips found hers, kissing her without another warning. She was pulled into his lap, finding comfort close to his racing heart, to his strong thighs, and the hands that wandered up her spine to explore unfamiliar territory.
Dean tugged her shirt over her head, dilated pupils flickering down to her chest, to the skin he kissed moments later. Every now and then their eyes met, just for a few seconds, and yet the seconds felt more sincere than any moments (y/n) had once shared with the men she had dated. But there had always been something special about Dean Winchester, the man that owned her heart without even knowing so.
“You see, sex has always felt really, really good. But, sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know?” Dean’s lips found their way back up to her throat while his hands worked on her bra, letting the fabric fall to the ground, taken from her before she could even try to cover herself up. “You’re drunk. You shack up. Then, it’s the whole morning thing. You know, “hey, that was fun.” And then, “adios,” you know? Always the “adios.” But, you know, when you get down to it, what’s the big deal, right?” The green colour of his eyes seemed to grow even greener as he sucked on her hardening nipples, set on leaving marks that would remind (y/n) of this very moment for days to come.
“Dean,” she mewled his name, begging him to move down further. Another gasp ripped through her as Dean ground her core against his bulge, letting her feel how hard he was, just for her. Her clit was pulsing, secretly wondering if she’d be able to cum just like that, just from searching his closeness with most of their clothes still on. “More, please.”
“I mean, sure, there’s the touching and the feeling all of each other. My hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body. The two of us moving together, pressing and pulling… Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds. I want you to feel that, all of it.” He chuckled at the desperate gaze swimming in her pupils, letting go of a soft “So impatient”.
Dean clicked his tongue, flipping them around so that he could tower over her, hands tugging his own shirt over his head. Fuck, this wasn’t the first time (y/n) got to admire a shirtless Dean, and yet she had never dared to admire him for long, just a few seconds where he found himself distracted by something. But now Dean wasn’t distracted, no, he was awfully focused on (y/n), on the woman that would choke on his name in a few minutes. “I think I want you to cum on my tongue first, and then on my cock.”
“Oh fuck, do something, please.” His chuckles reverberated through the bedroom as he helped her out of her jeans, panties following shortly after. She was completely bare, naked for his eyes only, a sight so beautiful Dean found himself frozen. Both their hearts were racing, calling out to one another, very well knowing that this wasn’t just a quick hookup, not something they’d ever be able to forget.
(Y/n)’s eyes followed Dean’s every move, watching him kiss his way down to her heat, eyes flickering up to meet hers as he brushed his tongue along her folds, moaning at her taste. She could already tell that this wouldn’t end like it had with the guys she had been with before, Dean would be able to make her cum in no time, pushing her over the edge before her mind could catch up with her body.
Dean’s skilled fingers took care of her pulsing bundle of nerves, smirking against her skin as he dipped his tongue into her tightness. Her moans kept clawing through her, hands grasping her sheets in a desperate try to ground herself, unable to keep on breathing. Her body grew tense as she felt her orgasm creeping closer, forcing her to breathe faster, scared that she’d pass out from the tension now clinging to her.
This very sensation had something so unfamiliar to it, (y/n) couldn’t help but wonder if she’d ever get to experience this again, already addicted to the feeling of Dean’s tongue taking care of her every need. Her moans urged him on to add more pressure to his movements, tongue fucking her faster, in sync with the movements of his fingers.
“Oh god, Dean, I’m so close, please don’t stop.” Her sobs left his heart roaring in pride, tugging on his muscles as he watched her come undone. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close, teeth buried in her lower lip as she let the sensation wash through her, allowing her vocal cords to produce the sweetest sounds Dean has ever heard before. He found himself marvelling at her, wishing that he’d be able to grasp his phone, to take a picture of the pleasure drunken expression tugging on her features.
Dean had always known that he was in love with her, and yet he had never dared to act on his feelings, preferring to secretly harbour a crush that was stronger than any emotion he was used to by now, instead of ending up with a broken heart and a broken friendship. But in this very moment, Dean found himself growing more confident, finally understanding that she was tied to him in the same way he was tied to her.
“Dean,” a deep sigh left her as he pulled away, smirking down on (y/n) before he kissed her. “Fuck me, please.”
“Such a good girl, I knew you’d love this, you deserve to be touched by someone who actually wants you to enjoy this.” Dean rose from the bed to tug his trousers down his legs, allowing (y/n) to take in the sight of his clothed cock, of the way his cock was pressed against the fabric of his dark boxers. Fuck, she had dreamt about this very moment for way too many times, wondering how he’d fuck her, how he’d push her closer and closer to the edge with his cock buried deep inside of her.
Dean rolled a condom down his cock before he aligned himself with her heat, fingers interlaced with hers before he slowly sank into her. Both needed a few moments to adjust, exhaling the tension tugging on their muscles, urged on by the emotions that made this very night more special than all others they got to live through before.
(Y/n)’s trembling hand tugged Dean down to her, sharing a passionate kiss as she wrapped her legs around his waist. He moved slowly at first, building up a rhythm that shot sparks down their spines, leaving them drowning in the heat thumping through their veins.
“Shit, you feel so good.” Dean’s praises left her heart skipping beats, racing in her chest as if she was on another hunt, guided by the adrenaline rushing through her system. But this very moment wasn’t filled with the same kind of adrenaline she was all too used to, no, it had a new touch to it, allowing her to silence her racing thoughts.
Her walls fluttered around his cock as his hand found its way back to her sensitive clit, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, very well knowing that they’d both cum any moment now. Heavy breaths left them, mixed with moans and groans that echoed through her bedroom, a sound that would forever cling to them, reminiscent like the emotions filling their bodies.
“There we go, can feel you clenching my cock. Let go for me, sweetheart.” Dean’s raspy words pushed her over the edge, hands finding his shoulders to claw her fingernails into his skin. He fucked her through her high, staring down on her with a proud smirk before he followed her, releasing himself into the condom.
Dean slowly pulled out of her, tossing away the condom before he searched her closeness again. For a few minutes neither of them dared to speak up, trying to catch their breaths with closed eyes and wandering fingers that stroked one another’s warm skin. With a kiss pressed to her forehead, Dean pulled (y/n) into his chest, tightening his grip on her.
“You’re right, this is truly the most special thing ever.”
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I need Dick Grayson with a breeding kink so bad. Hed see you with some kids at some wayne family event and the moment your hone hes jumping you. Whimpering about how bad he needs to fill you up 🙏🙏
started levitating and speaking in tongues when I read this…..it’s like ur inside my head🧎🏽♀️
holy spirit took over so it’s longer than anticipated oops hope y’all enjoy 🫶
18+ minors dni
warnings: breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, dick grayson going feral
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
you and dick grayson had just attended a wayne foundation fundraiser for the development of a local school, where he had witnessed for the first time how you interact with children. he watched as you chatted with the little guests of honour and laughed at their silly jokes, and how one of the smallest girls in the group shyly approached you to ask about your princess dress, as she called it. you engaged with each of the kids so naturally that his mind instinctively wandered to what it would be like to see you with his children someday.
he brought the idea up on the car ride home to gauge your reaction. “I mean, think about it,” he said. “a mini-me. or a mini-you—teaching them to ride a bike, or something. going to recitals. I don’t know.” a fond smile ghosted over him.
you laughed, surprised by his words. “that’s sweet, grayson,” you said. “I think you’d make a great dad.” he glanced at you expectantly.
“but…?”
“but,” you continued, “we’d have to make the kids first, you know. it takes time.” hearing that made him pause for a moment.
“oh, yeah. right,” he murmured. he hadn’t thought about that part—the process of getting you pregnant. you didn’t notice the way his jaw tensed, or how his knuckles whitened around the the steering wheel, or even the sudden tightness in his suit pants. the engine roared as he sped up, his sole focus on getting you home.
★・・・★・・・★・・・★
you can barely recall what happened between him parking the car and you ending up on his bed. all you know is that your gala clothes are strewn across the floor, your legs are being pressed open against you, and dick’s starving mouth is on your soaking pussy, sucking desperately. his ministrations are impatient and disorganised, not at all like the dick you’re used to. what’s gotten into him?
beneath him, his cock aches as he ruts against the mattress, precum leaking onto his stomach. he’s already worked you to two generous orgasms despite his state of desperation. unable to wait any longer, he crawls his way back up your body until his cock is flush against your wet folds, his strong hands keeping your thighs wide open and pressed back so he has a full view of your sex.
your jaw falls slack as he gradually plunges into you until his length disappears in your walls. he’s deeper than usual, and your hand lurches to push him back. he intercepts your wrist instantly, pinning it down next to you.
“c’mon, baby, you can take it,” he coos hoarsely, his breathing ragged as his eyes travel your body. “feel that, baby. feel how deep I’m going. it’s intense, huh?” he leans down closer to you, pressing his body onto the back of your thighs as he fucks you slowly. “try to relax, pretty girl. this is the best way for me to fill you up, okay?” realisation hits you as he says the words. so that’s what this is about.
his thrusts speed up, and he feels you tighten with each intrusion. “fuck…you trying to squeeze it out of me? that’s how bad you want it, huh?” his smirk is arrogant, but it wavers as your walls spasm around him again, a lewd whine slipping through your lips. dick watches as your needy pussy grips his length and pulls him back in, practically begging to be filled. his moans grow louder as he drills into you, the pressure in his lower abdomen building quickly.
you’re taken by the primal way he’s is fucking you tonight. you’ve never experienced this side of him—messy, greedy, filthy—and it’s truly a sight to behold. the way his sweat-sheened muscles strain with each thrust sends another rush of wetness through you, and you feel it pooling around dick’s length.
“I wanna fuck a baby into you, pretty girl,” he keens, more to himself than to you; “wanna see you take it all.” his eyes screw shut in pleasure, feeling the way your walls contract around him; you’re almost delirious from the sensation of him pounding into you, and it’s driving him over the edge. his breathing is irregular when he speaks; “I’m gonna fill this little pussy up—that’s what you want, huh, baby? you want me to cum inside you?”
“yeah—yes,” you gasp, your voice barely above a squeak, “cum inside me, dick, please!”
as you say the words, you feel his cock twitch, and his strokes grow sloppy; he whines into you when he climaxes, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his hips buck. you hear him moan your name as he finishes, and his movements slowly come to a halt. breathlessly, you hold him in place, your arms clinging to his shoulders in an attempt to preserve the feeling of him buried inside you like this, with his breath fanning across your neck.
after a moment, dick sits back up and pulls out of you slowly, his length ringed in both your fluids. his face is frozen in admiration as he watches his load dripping out of you and sliding down your ass. he reaches down and smears the liquid over your folds before pushing it back into your sensitive entrance with his thumb, not intending to waste a drop.
“fuck…you take it so well, baby,” he breathes as he leans back down to kiss you feverishly. he then holds his thumb to your mouth, and you suck it clean, staring up into his blue eyes through your lashes. a loving expression settles on his features as he runs the pad of his thumb along your jaw, and your belly tenses at the feeling of him still dripping out of you while your legs relax by his sides.
“y’know,” he says after a beat, a teasing smile on his lips. “I hear it takes a while for this kind of thing to stick. we’re probably gonna have to do this a few more times.”
“alright, grayson,” you laugh, your fingers absently running through his hair. “but you’re washing the sheets.” he cracks a playful grin and rests his forehead against yours.
“deal,” he murmurs, kissing you again.
#kicking my feet while writing this#dick grayson#dick grayson smut#dick grayson x reader#nightwing smut#nightwing#nightwing x reader#nightwing x you#dc comics#batman#martiniluvr’s asks#dick grayson x you
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so close - m.yg.
genre: major angst, fluff, second chance romance (13.5k)
summary: words are not enough for people who are so close and so in love, or a fic in which yoongi loses you but will do everything in his power to win you back.
note: writing after so long felt liberating, i hope you feel through my words.
this one is dedicated to my soulmate, @hopefuldreamlove
masterlist
“you know what? i’m done, i’m fucking done with your nonsense, i hope this stupid roof falls on your head!” your screams bounced off the walls loudly as you dragged your bags to the front door, you no longer recognized yourself.
when had it become this bad?
“i hope so too, at least that way i don’t have to hear you scream like a banshee on drugs, just get the fuck out already” yoongi huffs as he matches your vicious tone, but his chest tugs at him, begging him to move and stop you before it was too late, before you actually left and never came back. but his pride was stronger, he wasn’t going to beg you to stay, he was stubborn enough to pretend this didn’t affect him at all.
you don’t respond or even turn back to look at him one last time, you slam the door and trudge your luggage impatiently to the elevator.
yoongi couldn’t move, he watched the front door with pursed lips, he couldn’t believe that after all this time, this was how you two were going down.
he should’ve stopped you; he shakes his head at himself, he shouldn’t have even let the fight get so far, he should’ve stopped the second your voice wavered with unshed tears halfway through the argument but he didn’t, he waited for those tears to turn into simmering anger and yoongi didn’t do anything to make you stay. as always.
that was why you fought in the first place because yoongi had seemingly given up on putting any effort into your relationship.
halfway through the parking lot, you pulled your suitcases behind you with heavy steps, letting out puffs of breath with furrowed eyebrows, and then you paused. your heel stuttering as you narrowed your eyes, your hands loosened around the handles of your bags.
why should you leave?
you both were still owners of that apartment, both of you paid the rent and if you left now, you don’t even have a place to stay and you didn’t want to inconvenience your friends because yoongi was being an asshole, you also didn’t want to go through the trouble of finding a new apartment when you had a perfectly available one right above you (with three bedrooms!).
you smiled wickedly, if yoongi thought he was getting rid of you this easily, he was dead wrong because now, you were determined to make his life hell by living right next to his door and doing everything you could to make him uncomfortable.
yoongi didn’t hate a lot of things, but his personal space was always important to him and you were determined to make that space as worse as it could get and if he had a problem, he could always leave and find another place, he had the money to buy another apartment anyway.
with that happy revenge plan, you walked back to the elevator with a bounce on your step, you couldn’t wait to make yoongi’s life miserable.
yoongi, on the other hand, had been watching the clock since you walked away, it took every fiber of his pride to keep himself on that couch and not run after you but eventually, he knew that he needed you, he couldn’t ignore his sinking chest forever, so he ran to get his car keys, begging and praying silently that you hadn’t gone too far.
he reached for his phone as he made his way to the door, already texting your friends to see if you had gone to them.
imagine his surprise when you slam the door open just as his hand moves towards the door handle, he jumps back with a pounding heart and a rush of emotions fills him.
a mix of relief, remnants of his previous frustration, pure joy, and cockiness fill him as he sees you back in your home, his hands almost grab you into a hug but instead clench into fists and tighten beside his body.
“missed me already?” his lips curl into a smirk and your glare hardens, but you give him the sweetest smile in return, and yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion.
you looked furious when you left so, yoongi didn’t understand the smile on your face even if his heart jumped at the smile he hadn’t seen for a while now.
“don’t flatter yourself, min yoongi, i’m not back for you, i’m back for my apartment” you sing to him as you purposefully shove his shoulder on your way in, even running your suitcase on his toes accidentally as you walk past.
he winces and curls to grab his stinging foot, “what the fuck is wrong with you?” yoongi growls, any idea of needing you had left him swiftly as his anger returned with a vengeance.
“oops, sorry, didn’t see your foot there” you tried not to snicker as you said but you still had that shit-eating grin on your face and yoongi huffed, annoyance filling his every crevice.
“okay, what are you doing back here? i clearly remember you hoping that this roof falls on my head, did you come back for it to fall on yours too?” yoongi followed you as you walked to the guest bedroom, his footsteps speeding up to catch your pace but you remained one step ahead.
“you mean, what am i doing in my house? i don’t know yoongi, what do people do in their houses?” your voice was sickeningly sweet and yoongi ran a hand across his face in exasperation, “this is our house, can you stop being sarcastic for one minute and give me a straight answer?”
“as far as i remember and you are free to correct me, both of our names are on the lease, making both of us rightful owners, why would i go anywhere else when i have a home right here?” you level your glare with him as he stares back with an unreadable expression, “are you doing this just to be petty?” yoongi thought you had come back for him but now knowing that you didn’t, filled his chest with a bitter, ugly feeling.
“i have no idea what you are talking about, i am just choosing to live in my house” you shrug your shoulders as you put your clothes into the guest room’s closet, yoongi looks away with furrowed eyebrows, “stop calling it your house, it is our house” your hand paused at the longing in his voice but remembering all the nights you went to bed crying because of him, pushed you to just keep arranging your things.
“it is mine and yours, not ours,” you concluded and yoongi tried to shake off how heavy your words made him feel, “besides, i won’t even be bothering you anymore, think of us as roommates and nothing more until i find a new place.”
“roommates?”
“roommates.”
“you are going to find a new place?” yoongi asks, shifting on his feet, it was strange to see you occupying a different part of the house.
“of course, why would i stay here with you for longer than required?” you planned to just ruin his life for a little while and then leave to a place where you could finally breathe.
you just staying here would ruin it enough, you thought.
“you shouldn’t even be staying here right now” he bit back, masking the ache in his heart with insults he normally wouldn’t even think of uttering but that confirmed it for you that your decision to stay bothered him and that satiated your petty heart.
“if you have a problem with me staying, you can leave and find a new place” you gave him a large, sarcastic grin and yoongi’s eyes further narrowed on you. “i don’t give a fuck about you staying or leaving, just stay out of my way” yoongi mumbled and slammed the guest door shut.
you rolled your eyes as you continued shoving your belongings in place, you couldn’t wait for this lease to be over, just as much as he did.
-
the lease was supposed to be renewed after three months and you were hoping to find a place by then because as much as you taunted yoongi, you were planning to move out the next chance you get because you couldn’t stay around him and hate yourself for liking him still.
you spent the first two weeks, mostly staying out of home, you couldn’t stand seeing him working all day, even at home. that was why you two had fought and ultimately broken up over, and as much as you hated to admit it, you were hurt that he didn’t even try to change his ways.
your eyes glared at the eggs sizzling in the pan sitting in front of you as your hands tightened impossibly around the spatula you held.
were you supposed to cook eggs with a spatula?
were the eggs supposed to look that dark in color?
was whatever you’re holding, even a spatula?
your head tilted in confusion as you tried to rake your brain for things you learned from cooking shows and let out a sigh of frustration as the eggs you flipped had smoke coming out of them.
you never had to worry about cooking, as busy as yoongi got, he always made sure you at least had leftovers to heat up before he left for work but you would rather plunge yourself on a bed of legos than ask him to make your food.
besides, you could do this yourself, you have done much more difficult things than this in life, a couple of eggs and bread weren’t going to be that hard.
“are you seriously using a scooper?” you heard a low, groggy voice from across the room and you sucked in a breath, face heating up in embarrassment.
so, you weren’t using a spatula after all.
you stiffly nodded and yoongi snickered, “if you need a ride to the hospital after eating whatever you made, i will be happy to take you.”
you turned around with an annoyed huff, “as if you have time for anything besides being holed up in your studio, i will die before you even come and get me.” yoongi’s jaw tightened as you pointed your spatula (scooper) at him, and then, he released a long breath as another grin graced his face, “so, you agree? you agree that you will end up in the hospital after eating this?”
“even if i do, i don’t see how it’s any of your goddamn business, min yoongi, just make your fucking breakfast and don’t be such an insufferable roommate” maybe your words were harsher than needed, but you couldn’t stand being around him and not hurt him, as he had hurt you over the course of the past few weeks.
yoongi didn’t retaliate which only made you feel worse, but you held your chin high in defiance of your own guilt as he did exactly as you told, he kept quiet and made his breakfast.
and of course, he made a huge spread of everything from bagels to smoothies to chocolate pancakes, he put them right in front of you as he sat on the opposite side of the long island table as you stared down at your burnt eggs and bread with a clenched jaw.
for yoongi, work could wait right now but annoying you couldn’t.
“i hope you enjoy your breakfast, y/n, if you can call it that” yoongi gave you his brightest smile yet, the stretch on his face covering the otherwise sarcastic tone “because i know i will enjoy mine” he finished by shoving a forkful of the cream cheese and chicken bagel that he knows is your favorite. he knows how much you loved it when he made it for you after a night full of love and attention.
you glare at him with annoyance crawling up your arms and legs as he lets out a moan of approval at the bite, obviously putting on a show to piss you off more, your mouth waters involuntarily as he chews slowly with nods and loud hums of satisfaction but what finally drives you mad, is when he lifts his head from eating and gives you a cheeky wink.
your hands gripping the table's edge turn white as you forcedly push your body away from the table, abandoning your sad excuse of breakfast and stomping out of the room.
you hate that you can hear yoongi’s sinister laughter even after you slam your door shut.
-
this is what continues for you both, you accidentally unplug his computers, he accidentally drops juice on you right before you go to work, you accidentally break his speakers, and he accidentally puts your night plushie in the washing machine and reduces it to nothing but a shapeless fluff. the cycle continues, both of you determined to not let the other breathe peacefully, every night you slept while making a plan to destroy his day, and every morning you woke up to execute it.
it was childish, immature but it gave you the satisfaction you craved. seeing his usually passive face become irritated or waking up to his screams of frustration and curses filled you to the brim with joy.
you did start to question why you enjoyed it so much though, sure you wanted to give him hell but the whole process of planning it wasn’t what made you satisfied, it was purely his reaction to it.
“you just want his attention again” your dear friend, jennie, mutters as she glares at you while sipping her bubble tea. you immediately scoff at her; she had no idea what she was talking about.
“no, i want him to suffer” you correct her and she shakes her head at you, putting her drink down and leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows. “i worry about you, you know.”
“why? i’m perfectly fine” you shrug because you don’t see anything that she needs to worry about, you are moving on, you are making yoongi suffer like you wanted to, your work performance is still intact, and everything was smooth sailing. “no, you are not. i thought it was weird that you wanted to stay in the same house as your ex, but i didn’t say anything because you were in a sensitive place then. now, you have to admit that you are delaying staying away from him.”
“i’m staying in a house that i own and that i am paying rent for, it has nothing to do with min yoongi.” you jab a finger on the table as irritation fills you, but you also feel embarrassed? humiliation crawls on your insides as you try to maintain a passive face. jennie’s face softens and she reaches out for your hand, “i know how much he hurt you, don’t punish yourself by thinking you have to prove to anyone that you want to hurt him as he did you. your pain doesn’t need justification.”
-
you couldn’t sleep that night, all you could think of was jennie’s face as she uttered those words, her gentle hands keeping you anchored to the real world, the world where min yoongi shredded you to pieces without caring or knowing about it. before you know it, you feel tears escape down the side of your eyes and your hand shakily reaches out to muffle your sobs.
why couldn’t you just stop caring?
why couldn’t you up and leave?
what kept you tethered to a relationship that was void before you ever called it off?
and why couldn’t you just fucking stop crying?
you wanted to let your hand go, so yoongi can listen to your wails, to what he’s done to you, the damage he’s caused, the broken pieces that you struggle to pick up, maybe in some sick way, you want him to come and wipe your tears away, maybe you just want him to show up this once, to make up for all the months he didn’t. but you don’t let it go, you hold it tighter against your face because as much as you want him to know, you can’t. you can’t have him find out that your tears were because and for him.
-
you didn’t have to justify your pain but you did have to prove that you were moving on, so against jennie’s and all your friend’s better judgment, you decided a date night would just be enough to prove that you didn’t care about yoongi or whatever you had with him anymore.
you hummed lightly as you got your favorite dress out, it had an open back and whenever you wore it, yoongi couldn’t stop touchin-
this isn’t about him.
you huff in annoyance at your own thoughts as you lay your dress down on the bed, you are not thinking about him, not today and not ever, today is only about your date, you are going to have a good time, get lightly tipsy, and maybe even have a full-blown make out session if you get drunk enough for it and you will not think of yoongi at all.
you took a deep breath in as you started doing your makeup.
how long has it been since you got ready for a date? at least, a date that didn’t get canceled as soon as you were ready. your makeup brush slows in your hand as your heart starts feeling heavy again. you didn’t bother getting ready for anything if it was not with yoongi even when he canceled, even when he pleaded with you that he would be there and left you hanging.
you gave such little regard for yourself and you feel angry that you didn’t put yourself first, that you didn’t fight him right then and there, you feel irritated that you quenched your needs for as long as he made you wait.
you start getting ready with more aggression after that, you were definitely going to put yourself first now, yoongi gets none of you. you don’t need him for anything anymore.
except for maybe one thing.
you stand in front of the mirror with a scowl, your arms awkwardly bent to try and zip your dress up but your fingers are just out of reach for it, you start to hop awkwardly hoping that somehow hopping around will magically zip your dress up and start to groan in frustration.
“are you auditioning to be a kangaroo?”
you pause with gritted teeth at his amused voice coming from the doorway that you didn’t realize was wide open all this time.
this can’t be happening right now.
“can you fuck off?”
“and you will go out with your zip wide open, got it, i will be taking my leave.” He snickers and starts to head out, only to pause when a whine comes up your throat, you bite your lip to swallow your pride because you don’t want to ask him, but you have no choice.
“yoongi, can y-“
“can i?” he turns around in a flash, leaning against the doorway with a smirk on his face, that you want to slap off.
“can you zip my dress up?” you mumble out in a rush and shift your feet to face him with half your body. yoongi whistles, looking away, acting like he didn’t hear you at all, and your eyes drop into a glare, you can already feel your irritation crawling up your skin.
“you heard me, stop acting like a kid.” you scowl at him as you stomp your foot.
“i did but a ‘please’ would be nice, you know, zipping a dress is tough work and i can’t just hand it out for free.” he was enjoying this way too much but his heart was dipping continuously as he kept looking at you from the corner of his eye.
when was the last time he saw you, all dressed up?
why can’t he remember the last time he took you out?
why can’t he remember the last time he fell asleep and woke up with you?
he clears his throat loudly as he makes his way across the room, your glare stays on yoongi as he approaches you but you don’t miss how his eyes stay downward as he walks with slow steps. you tilt your head in confusion as you push your hair to the side, to let him zip you up.
but he never does.
he stands behind you, looking in the mirror as you hold your hair up, he looks at you through the mirror, and your eyes meet his.
yoongi doesn’t look away.
you don’t look away.
your zip is long but forgotten.
and suddenly, you feel like the room is running out of air for you to breathe in.
you hadn’t been this close to yoongi in so long.
you can’t tell if he’s thinking the same thing, you can’t tell if he’s finding it hard to find air right now too, you can’t tell if his heart is beating as loudly as yours.
but sorrow fills you because, in all these months, yoongi has come this close to you, only to zip the dress that you’re wearing on a date with someone else.
“yoongi.” you whisper, so quietly, so delicately, as if you can’t bear to utter his name but you have to.
“right, zip.” he shakes his head at himself, quickly looking downwards and his hand’s ghost on the skin exposed to him, yoongi is suddenly unsure if he can zip you up or not, he’s unsure if his hands will let him only zip you up, he’s unsure of where that would lead to.
“where are you headed to?” yoongi tries to sound casual as clears his throat and his fingers finally catch the small zip at the dip of your dress, he takes his sweet time dragging it up, his eyes savoring every inch of skin he hasn’t touched.
you hesitate, you don’t want to tell him. actually, maybe you do, maybe you wanted him to know before but after the shift in the very air around you, it feels wrong. “a date.” your answer leaves you in a choke, just as he finishes pulling the zip all the way to the top.
he removes his hands from you like he’s been stung, and he steps back, yoongi doesn’t even breathe as he stands unmoving.
air rushes in your lungs once you notice the conflict in yoongi’s eyes, once you recognize the conflict forming a knot in your stomach and even air seems like too much for you.
the moment is over and you can feel your defenses climbing up too.
you are ready to fight him, you are ready to argue that you both were done, and that what you do with your time is none of his business and it never will be, and that you can kiss, fuck, do whatever you want with whomever you want.
because you two were done.
because you two were done.
that statement didn’t feel real until this second. something about the statement felt like the most incorrect thing in the world to yoongi.
but he won’t say it.
he won’t hurt you anymore.
he can’t hurt you anymore.
“have fun.” his words are low, and curt and they fall into the silence around you both in a loud thud as yoongi quickly walks out of the room.
you are left in your dress, with a date you were going to be late to and a heart so heavy, you feel that you will drop it at your doorstep before heading out.
-
“isn’t that so exciting?” your date beams at you.
he’s cute, well accomplished from what you’re told and he seems interested in you.
you wish you could say the same.
but all your responses to him have been one-line sentences and tight smiles.
along with your pre-existing obsessive thoughts of yoongi and that goddamn zip, guilt bleeds into your system and so does dread.
guilt, because your date is as good as dates come, and he already mentioned that he would be more than willing to take time out for you and that he will be available whenever you want, that the next date will be whenever you are comfortable.
which should excite you.
which should delight you.
it should make you the happiest person in the world that he’s so openly giving you his time even if you are meeting him for the first time, it should make you the happiest that he seems enamored by you, that he wants to know so much about you. your friend had mentioned that this guy had been asking about you for a while and that when she asked, he had jumped in joy at the idea of going on a date with you, this should make you happy.
but it doesn’t, it sits bitterly in your mouth that it doesn’t make you feel a single thing.
you felt a million more flutters, kicks, and tingles in that one-minute yoongi zipped your dress up than you have for the past hour sitting opposite to your date.
dread also, slowly but surely, starts to consume you from the inside out. it scares you that maybe you will never feel all of that with another person, that you have somehow run out of sensation when it comes to someone else, it scares you that this might be forever, that you will never truly move on, that you can ever only pretend to move on.
maybe if someone else touches you.
maybe if someone else feels you.
maybe you have a chance of forgetting the ghost that yoongi left on your skin, maybe if someone else kisses you, you will be able to forget how his lips felt.
maybe if someone else could be exactly like yoongi but not like yoongi at the same time, you can survive this.
there’s no one like yoongi.
and you can’t do this anymore.
you stand up abruptly, your mind too loud to let you sit and listen to one more word that didn’t come from yoongi. your date sits up alarmed, quickly reaching for your hand to ask you what was wrong, to check up on you.
he is touching you.
his hands grip your fingers tightly.
he won’t let go until you do.
there is security in his touch.
but.
nothing.
you feel nothing.
your breathing stills at the realization.
your body doesn’t even bother with his hands on yours, it doesn’t even register that a person is holding your hand, asking if you’re okay. your body hates you.
before you know it, you are rushing out a half-assed apology and running out of the restaurant leaving your date confused and hurt.
you wish you could turn back and tell him you felt the same.
you were confused and hurt too, just for someone else.
-
a defeated weight held your head down as you walk back to your home.
the home that you share with your ex.
if you were in a better mood, you would maybe laugh at the situation you’ve put yourself in, maybe laugh at how ridiculous all of this is but you can’t bring yourself to even walk without feeling like the world was crashing on you.
yoongi heard your footsteps out in the corridor and he jumps back from the door he had pressed his ear against, running to the couch before you reach the doorknob. and just as the door clicks open, he snuggles himself into the blanket on the couch and evens his breath to pretend like he’s just casually fallen asleep on the sofa with a movie playing.
he wasn’t pacing by the front door a million times, trying to listen in to when you would come back.
he wasn’t going to reach for his car keys and come to find you.
and yoongi definitely didn’t feel the jealousy burning in his throat since the second you walked out for a date with someone else.
yoongi hears a thud and opens his eyes to the smallest amount he can see.
and he sees you.
that dress still takes his breath away.
but he can hear your breathing too.
it’s uneven, rough, and too quick, just like how it always is when you feel overwhelmed or frustrated.
yoongi stiffens in his position, both concern and anger filling him and the blanket slips from his shoulder a little.
was it because of your date?
did he do something to you?
were you alright?
his heart thumps uncomfortably as your step near his figure, he doesn’t know if you can tell that he’s pretending or not.
then you sit right by where he’s laid, on the floor, another defeated sigh leaving your lips, and yoongi wonders of the ways he could kill your date for making you like this.
little did he know, it was because of him.
“i can’t do it, yoongi” you whisper, seemingly to no one even if you use his name like you don’t want him to hear and yoongi confirms that you believe his act.
“i can’t seem to move on” a sad and tired chuckle follows that sentence and yoongi’s skin burns underneath the blanket, he’s never heard you this way. “and i know you have, i know you moved on a long time, long before we ever broke up but i can’t. even if you have, i can’t.” tears build in your eyes as you try to blink them away, you felt ridiculous, talking to him when he was asleep.
but you couldn’t help it, there was so much you wanted to say but you never got the chance to.
“i can’t hate you for moving on, but i can hate our situation for making it so hard for me to move on, i can hate myself for ever loving you, i can hate a lot of things” you nod to yourself, yoongi’s fists curl on his chest, if only he could throw the blanket away and take you in his arms. if only it was that easy.
“i can’t hate you, i can never hate you” you finish, your head falls with the weight of every thought you had.
if only you could tell him this when he wasn’t sleeping, if only he made it easier for you to say it to him.
yoongi’s lips purse, out of all the things he thought you would end the sentence with, that wasn’t one of them.
he was prepared for you to insult him in the vilest way possible.
he was prepared for you to blame him; he was prepared to take the blame.
but he wasn’t prepared for what you said or how you said it.
he wasn’t prepared for the sad kind of joy that filled his heart.
his joy was a paradox, too many faces for him to feel it at all.
you got up, turning the television off and pausing to look at him before you disappeared into your room and prepared yourself for yet another day of pretending to hate him.
yoongi could feel the weight of your gaze on him. he foolishly wonders if his hair is looking okay today, if the pajamas he chose today looked good on him, if he was looking presentable.
he can’t help it, you are standing in your prettiest dress and yoongi knows no one can be more beautiful than you, in that dress, in any dress, or in nothing at all. he only wants to be worthy of you.
then you do something that makes yoongi choke back a long breath.
you tuck his blanket back in place and your hands make quick work to cover his ears sufficiently.
it’s a simple action but it makes yoongi feel everything he did for you when he confessed his crush to you all those years ago.
then you step back and pad away quickly to your room and once your door falls shut, yoongi sits up immediately, breathing heavily.
he buries his head in his hands as frustration and something so similar to grief run through him in waves.
was he really stupid enough to let you go?
why did he feel regret now, when everything was concluded?
why did you have to tell him all of that?
his heart ached, his fingers ached, all of it was for you. and he looks at your door longingly.
you were wrong, yoongi thought. yoongi would die before he ever moved on from you.
and he never really let up a chance to prove you wrong.
at your door, his hand pauses in the middle of knocking when he hears your sobs on the other side.
if someone ripped his heart out, it would probably hurt less than this.
how badly he wanted to break down the door and hug you until your tears became his.
how badly he wished to caress your hair until you fell asleep.
how badly he wished you would fall asleep in his arms.
how badly he wished, against his awareness of the selfish nature of his wish, to see you in that dress one last time.
yoongi could open the door, he could do all of this, he could grant himself everything he wishes for but the door wasn’t the only barrier between you two and he became painfully aware of all the invisible barriers you both held up now.
he can’t just leave and come back when he wants, it wasn’t fair on you.
so, yoongi, regretfully and slowly, takes a step back and disappears into his studio where he catches no sleep.
but hey, he could at least finish a song that night.
that night, yoongi knew he was lying to himself if he said that he didn’t love you anymore. but he was also on thin ice with you, yoongi was going to try his best to stay on the surface.
this would be the last song he would make for a while, he had more important things on his checklist.
-
the smell of-
was that cream cheese?
your groggy, half-asleep mind somehow registers the waft of bagels and cream cheese in the air, which is enough to pull yourself out of bed.
with tangled hair and puffy eyes, you pad into the kitchen with a narrowed gaze.
of course, it’s yoongi.
you glare at his back which moves constantly to put together a cream cheese and chicken bagel which was, as mentioned, your favorite. usually, you would appreciate this view, usually, you would go give him a back-hug as he cooked for you but you knew it wasn’t for you.
“do you have to torture me like this?” you whine out, and yoongi snickers, his apron tightening around his waist as he turns around to look at you, “good morning to you too, you look bright as ever this morning” he gives you his best smile and you return a sarcastic one.
despite his aloof attitude, yoongi was trembling on the inside because he knows there is no single right way to win you back, he would have to earn it, and he would have to work on it every single day.
but if it was going to take forever to win you back, yoongi would try forever.
you buried your pounding head in your hands as you took a seat at the table, wondering how you were going to cook for yourself again without accidentally setting something or yourself on fire.
then, a glass of water with advil comes into view and you look up to see yoongi immediately backing away to work on breakfast again.
“are you trying to drug me?”
“is it working?”
you can’t help the small smile forming at his amused tone, but you don’t say anything which makes yoongi sigh in failing irritation. “come on, it’s just advil. you don’t need me to drug you, you do that with your cooking every day.”
“geez, thanks for reminding me i’m not freaking gordon ramsay in the kitchen” you continue his banter, somehow, you’re in a good mood even after how terribly last night ended. you go mute when he places a plate filled with your favorite bagel, an omelet, bacon, and even mini jam sandwiches in it.
you just stare at the plate before dragging your gaze to yoongi who turns away once again, this time with a dust of pink on his full cheeks that you catch.
“your side of the table is that way” you point to the opposite side, albeit regretfully because it’s been a while since you have had a proper, not-burnt breakfast, but he must have mistakenly placed this beautiful plate of food in front of you.
it has to be a mistake.
there’s no other reason for yoongi to feed you.
but oh, yoongi’s just so full of surprises.
“that one’s for you.” he shrugs casually as if it was normal to make you breakfast, after he’s only eaten it in front of you for a few weeks.
“what?”
“do you have hearing problems?”
“do you have mental problems?”
“yeah, but a dining table is hardly an appropriate place to discuss those, don’t you think?” maybe it was his flat tone as he said, indicative of his sense of humor, maybe you were just in a more fantastic mood than you had anticipated.
but you burst out laughing. you couldn’t help it; your laughter took over your entire system.
you can’t remember the last time you laughed like that.
yoongi had always managed to make you laugh or smile; this magical ability made you fall for him hard and fast, and after a rough day, he was the reason you at least slept peacefully, when you were together.
when you were together.
right, that wasn’t you two anymore.
that realization slows your laughter to a hesitant chuckle, yoongi wishes he didn’t notice that shift.
"don’t try to cook ever again if you want this roof over our head.” he jokes again as he sits down on his side of the table, suddenly the table seems too long to him and he hopes you’ll laugh again.
"are you saying you'll kick me out?" you dramatically gasp at him with an undeniable smile on your face.
it’s all right, yoongi will take a smile too.
"I’m saying you'll burn it down.” he continues with a playful whine that has you giggling again, swinging your legs under the table, a true indicator of your happiness in that minute which yoongi doesn’t miss.
“don’t you have work today?” you ask, finally digging into your food as yoongi does to his.
god, that’s good.
you swear his hands are magic.
“i took the day off” yoongi shrugs again, the second time he’s shrugging over things that aren’t half as casual as he makes them seem.
as long as you know, yoongi only ever took one day off, which was on your first anniversary.
he was always late to the other anniversaries.
you try not to think of that now, especially when both of you were in a civil mood.
“why, are you sick or something?” though concern fills you, you don’t let it show as you stuff your mouth.
“nope, just like that.” you hum in reply with poorly contained surprise.
“i don’t have work today either.” you don’t know why you tell him but you do.
“i know.”
“okay.”
“okay.”
you feel embarrassed at the disappointment that filled you when he didn’t say anything about it, what did you expect he was going to do, ask you for a date? if he wanted to, he would have done it when you were together.
“do you want to watch a movie?”
you almost drop your fork.
yoongi is surely full of surprises because you don’t even process his request for a second.
“what?”
“do you really have hearing problems?”
“no, i just didn’t quite catch what you said. are you asking me to watch a movie with you?” you repeat his words in disbelief, the plate of food that you loved so much, completely forgotten on the table.
“yes, that is what i said.” he confirms and you tilt your head in suspicion that yoongi notices too quickly which causes him to rush out, “as roommates.” it pains him to say it but he can’t come up with anything else to convince you.
“as roommates?” your confusion only grows.
“as roommates.”
“but why?” you can’t help but ask.
“just think of it as me trying not to be an insufferable roommate” he offers his explanation and in theory, in practicality, it makes perfect sense.
but both of you know it’s not that simple.
nevertheless, you don’t pry anymore.
yoongi’s shoulders fall in defeat when you don’t agree or deny, he just watches you continue to eat his food with furrowed eyebrows.
he took it too far, he should’ve stopped with breakfast today and tried to convince you to a movie another day, when you’ve warmed up more to him. you are probably still stuck in whatever happened last night and want your space.
“there’s this new horror one i saw on instagram the other day, i must have the link somewhere, i’ll put it on in a bit.” you look away with heated cheeks as you struggle to swallow your food.
oh.
you just agreed to the movie.
yoongi believes he could fly.
-
“man, this is not as scary as everyone said it was” you complain through a mouthful of popcorn, and yoongi nods in agreement, stuffing his face with a handful of popcorn too.
“by the way” yoongi sits up after hours of slouching on the couch and you signal for him to continue. “how did your date go yesterday?” he mutters, as casually as he could, reaching for more popcorn to avoid the tension surrounding the question.
last night comes back in flashes, your cute date, running away from the cute date, coming home to yoongi and confessing you would never get over him, covering him with a blanket and crying yourself to sleep.
shit, did he hear you?
“it went well, i came home pretty late though.” the lie tumbles out of you in lack of a better response.
yoongi knows you’re lying but he’s happy to play along with you because last night did a number on him too.
“glad to know it went well. i wouldn’t know when you came, i fell asleep watching some documentary” he munches on his popcorn loudly, he misses the error in his lie.
he wasn’t watching a documentary.
he was watching ‘finding nemo’.
and you know that because you were the one who shut the tv off.
you know that he’s lying. but instead of confronting him about that and that possibly leading to a conversation about what you uttered into the night, thinking he was asleep, wasn’t a risk you were willing to take.
“right, i did see you asleep.”
and i poured my heart out, right next to you.
yoongi in unaware his lie is caught; you prefer that he stays unaware. because if anything you said last night is what prompted him to act the way he did today, you are glad it didn’t all go to waste.
“we should sleep” he slouches back on the couch, too close to you, he’s hyperaware of your arms pressing against his but now that he’s already fallen back, he can’t quite get up as easily anymore.
he doesn’t want to get up.
“we should.” you agree.
neither of you moves a single inch.
laughter explodes into the room at that, both of your heads falling to the side to look at each other with squinted eyes full of happiness.
but when the laughter dies down and you are left to catch your breath, you are suddenly too aware of yoongi’s face being so close to yours, you don’t move away.
yoongi knows you know that you two are far too close.
he doesn’t move away either.
you start to lean in, your body is on autopilot as your hands sneak up to sit on the top of his knee, yoongi shudders from your touch.
how long had he gone without it?
how had he survived for so long?
how did his heart continue to beat without yours in his hands?
he panics internally as his hands come up to grab onto the sides of your face, like he won’t let go, like letting you go once was enough pain for him.
and when your lips touch, every bit of control you had left on your body evaporates into the air around you, you are grabbing his hair, and he is pulling you closer, and not once do you stop to take a breath.
because you know that when this moment is over, both of you won’t speak a word about it.
you can’t remember the last time yoongi kissed you this way, like his hands would disappear if they weren’t holding you, like his entire life purpose was to take your breath away and never give it back, like every part of him had been aching to do this.
and then it does end, painfully, too slowly, you pull away before your chest burns away, he pulls away because he has to.
you were right.
you don’t speak a word about it.
-
there was no ‘good night’ after that, there was no ‘see you later’, there was nothing left in that moment except the hope stored away in yoongi’s eyes. you pretend you don’t notice it as you, once again, eat the food he makes you in the morning.
yoongi knows he has to say sorry though, he hadn’t planned on that happening, he was just another lucky idiot that night, he was aware enough to know it wasn’t right for two to do that even if you’ve been together for years.
things were different and yoongi always hated change but he had to overcome this change instead of walking away from it, if he wanted to even dream of having you back.
so, he is the one who starts the uncomfortable conversation that you’d been anxiously waiting for.
“about last night-“
“you don’t have to worry about it.” you answer, as quick as lighting, and you even surprise yourself with your speed.
“oh?” yoongi raises an eyebrow at you.
what the fuck was he supposed to understand from that?
“come on yoongi, it’s not like we haven’t done it before” your chuckle following your words, is uncomfortable, tight, and completely unnatural.
“right” yoongi drawls, still not quite getting what you were hinting at.
were you okay with it?
were you not?
would he just have to kiss you again to find out?
“it was just a mistake, it happens, it’s not a big deal, i’m still moving out, you are still very much in love with your career, we don’t have to discuss it anymore” you eat as you speak, trying to bury the longing and bitterness in your voice with cold cereal.
so, that is what you meant.
yoongi doesn’t reply as his head stays down, he gets up soon after, cleaning up after himself and you, he doesn’t speak a single word or spare you a glance and disappears into his studio.
you are all too familiar with this scene.
you only watch as he does all this, you wouldn’t admit to another living soul that your heart grew heavier than it had ever been and that your chest felt tight enough to snap.
yoongi angrily walks around his studio, you could think it was a mistake but yoongi would break his computer before calling it a mistake.
but he realized he still had a long way to go.
yoongi had to be patient, he had no other choice.
but he doesn’t realize every second he goes by without telling you what was weighing on his heart, was another second your already dying hope vanished.
he can’t help but think back on the day he overheard you talking to your friend about your relationship, he subconsciously never really let go of that day, that day, he concluded that it was out of yoongi’s hands to do anything.
“i can’t believe you called, it’s been way too long” he heard your sigh of happiness outside the door, and yoongi paused, he doesn’t exactly know why he stayed to listen but he does.
your relationship, by then, had already been on the rocks, but neither of you acknowledged it.
“i wasn’t going to call, but rumi was telling me you were on a date with a certain someone” your friend sang from the other side of the speaker, clearly trying to tease you but you don’t say anything to that.
yoongi knows why you went silent, making him dig his heels deeper and listen closely to see what you would say.
“yeah, about that” you let out a hesitant chuckle, your voice struggling to keep your cheery tone. “hey, you good? what happened?” your friend’s concern was palpable and yoongi almost scoffed at her, he cared about you too, it wasn’t just her.
but yoongi couldn’t deny the weeks you both had gone without so much as exchanging a proper conversation.
yoongi would never take the blame for it, though.
“we didn’t end up going” yoongi peeks through the door to see your face turned away from the camera and he hated that he noticed the pain etched in your furrowed eyebrows. your friend stayed silent at your simple, but heavy answer, she could tell this wasn’t the first time it happened.
“but today is your anniversary?”
“it is.” you agree with a gulp, still refusing to meet her gaze.
“how long has this been going on?” her voice comes softly, so softly that your chin starts to wobble.
“nothing’s been going on, yoongi and i are fine.” you wanted to believe your words but anyone with two eyes and ears could see nothing was fine with you two.
“is that what you are telling yourself?”
“what else am i supposed to do?” your glare turns sharp and angry, you were fed up with everyone coddling you, you felt claustrophobic enough when you were with yourself.
“you know, if you want to cry, you can. none of us would judge you, you know that very well.” she tries to comfort you and yoongi’s breath turns impatient.
why was she trying so hard to convince you something was wrong, when you were telling her that everything was fine?
why did yoongi feel like she was trying to start a fight?
why did yoongi, a small part of him, feel like a fight was inevitable?
“there’s nothing to cry about, my boyfriend is just busy for an anniversary that might come again, it isn’t as important as what he does.” as you say it, a dread falls over both you and yoongi that there might not be another anniversary.
his heart free falls to his feet.
he had been busy; he wasn’t lying about that but yoongi hadn’t checked on you all this while. he can’t remember how many dates he canceled.
but that wasn’t his fault, that was life, that was his life and you knew about his life before you entered it.
it couldn’t be yoongi’s fault, it had to be yours.
yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch in bitterness at the defeat in your voice, at the absurdity of the situation he never thought you two would have to be in, at the world for keeping you apart.
he looks away just when your sobs break the silence in the room.
“i thought i couldn’t breathe without yoongi, but i am, i am living many days without him, with only glances of him, i am living and breathing.” yoongi’s head leaves the doorway before you finish your sentence. if you wanted to live without him, he would let you go, he didn’t need you to stay out of pity.
“but it all hurts, and i don’t want to do any of that without him” is what he fails to catch in his anger.
yoongi looks back at the day mournfully now, he should’ve taken you out right then and there, he shouldn’t have given up just because it seemed like you did, his head falls in his hands as he rakes his hands through his hair in agitated motions.
he wasn’t sure if he could win you back.
but he wasn’t going to give up, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
-
your days continued, as usual, he made you breakfast and packed you lunch, did your laundry and set them aside, he made sure you ate after you got off work and you both watched a movie or listened to songs together, or anything at all, together at the end of the day.
you were feeling good.
too good.
things were going well enough to make you nervous because suddenly, everything you knew from your breakup to the two weeks of enmity that followed those two weeks, changed drastically.
it felt like everything went back to the way it was and as much as you should be enjoying it, you didn’t, without confirmation of where you both stood, you couldn’t.
and soon, there came a catalyst that changed everything once again.
it was a mistake.
yoongi would never intentionally do this.
he took your pile of clothes as he usually does, placing them in a bucket and preparing to do your laundry along with his.
yoongi’s heart thrums in satisfaction as he places them in the washing machine, he always felt good doing chores for you, he doesn’t know why and with how well things were going, he dances and sings his way to the laundry detergent and whistles happily as he pours it heavily over your clothes, making sure to add extra fabric softener.
he leaves to do some light work in his studio, not knowing the mistake he committed.
yoongi was gunning to ruin your life, you were so sure of it.
nothing else could explain your sopping wet blouses, supposed to be white, at your feet.
you gape in horror as you pick the pile apart frantically to search for any blouses that could be salvaged, after all, these were all you wore to work, and your head falls in defeat once you see all of them in multi-colors instead of their usual stark white.
your hands tighten by your side as you feel hot all over with pure rage, you quickly grab the ex-white blouses and storm into the living room where yoongi scrolls casually on his phone, his pout whistles out tunes which fade away as he catches sight of your heavy steps towards him.
you throw your blouses at his feet and your nose flares, yoongi jumps in his seat.
“what the fuck happened?” he gasps out, not understanding the anger in your eyes.
“yoongi, this isn’t funny.” you manage to say beyond gritted teeth and he scrunches his eyebrows.
“what isn’t funny?” he frowns in confusion.
“stop acting dumb, i will fucking force detergent down your throat” that raises concern in him, he looks down at the pile of clothes by his feet.
none of the whites were whites anymore.
fuck.
“okay, listen i swear this is an accident, i’ll get you new on-“
“i wear these to work! what is wrong with you?” you point down at the pathetic pile of clothes by his feet with hands shaking from anger.
“you know, i wouldn’t do this intentionally, i am aware you wear these to work, let’s go out now and get you new shirts, i’m sure some shops will be open” he gets up from his seat, searching for his keys.
“don’t act dumb yoongi, it doesn’t suit you at all.”
yoongi starts getting frustrated, why don’t you believe him?
“let’s go and get them before the shops close” he tries to remain calm.
“i’m not going anywhere with you.” you stay rooted in your place and yoongi’s patience starts to run thin. “i’m telling you, it was a mistake, i’m not crazy enough to do this intentionally, now let’s not fight and get you shirts you need for tomorrow before we can’t.”
“don’t act like you are some hero, you are the one who ruined them!” you don’t understand why you are so angry or why you can’t seem to move from where you stood.
“and i’m trying to fix it.” he grumbles out, slamming the keys on the counter beside him.
you stare at the keys with heavy breaths and he stares at you, his anger melting as quickly as it came to the surface.
“let’s go.” he takes the keys in his hands again.
maybe it was the confusion that finally manifested with an ugly head.
maybe you hated how comfortable you got around yoongi again.
maybe you are seeing nothing but all his mistakes until that minute.
maybe you aren’t being fair at all.
but you snap.
“you think you are the only one who does important work?” you didn’t mean to get personal or bring up the topic that broke you both up again, but you couldn’t help it. your arms cross against your chest as yoongi spins on his heels to turn back to you.
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“you clearly think you are the only one in the entire world who does meaningful work, the rest of us are just slaving away for money and security, but of course, the great min yoongi works for the greater good, for the comfort of many, for millions who adore him, that is why any work that is not his, is not valuable” your voice drips with venom and mocking as you take slow steps towards him, yoongi’s face falls into his usual glare as he watches you speak.
you poke your finger against his chest, your voice quivering with poorly controlled fury, “who the fuck do you think you are? do you think that writing a few songs and getting some records will erase how horrible you make people you are supposed to love, feel? do you think that you can get away with everything because your name is not just a name, but also a brand? i can at least say that my name belongs and serves only me, can you? you are nothing but walking merchandise that anyone can buy.” again, you never meant to say all of that, you know better than to call anyone an object but that was the thing about your anger, your anger had the power of making you say the most vicious words in the world and you had never learned to control it.
“you don’t mean that” yoongi forces himself to say because those words from anyone else, wouldn’t mean jack shit to him but coming from you, they speared his heart over and over again. he waits, he waits with his sinking heart that you would agree with him, he doesn’t believe in god but at that moment, he wished for every power to let you agree with him.
the air grew heavier around you both as you let out a sarcastic laugh.
“i have never meant anything more. you fucked with my work life, you know how much of an asshole my manager is about dress codes but you did the one thing that could ruin weeks of work for me, and you did it all by yourself, so congratulations min yoongi, you have once again proved to be the worst thing to ever happen to me” you clapped slowly as you stepped away from him, your face grim and dark as you turn away.
yoongi’s heart clenches as your words circle his body in a dangerous tornado.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can buy.
walking merchandise that anyone can b-
your glare slips as the words you uttered sink into your skin, and by the time you turn back around, yoongi’s eyes already gathered enough tears that they run down his face.
“is that what you’ve thought of me till now?” his voice breaks and so does your heart. “yoongi, no-“ you step towards him but he backs away, his defenses climb back right infront of your eyes as his body suddenly looks too far away.
“that’s not fair, you don’t get to tell me now, that you thought i was merchandise, that i keep hurting everyone i love, when all i’ve done these past weeks is try and win you back.” your world stops spinning as yoongi admits to his trials.
you feel like the biggest asshole in the world.
“yoongi, you were right, i didn’t mean-“ you walk over to him with hesitant steps, he doesn’t back away this time but he doesn’t let you finish either.
“i know i’ll never be worthy of you, i know i can only try but i’m trying, god knows i’m fucking trying because even if you can live and breathe without me, i can’t do any of that without you.” your own eyes start to tear up as you reach to wipe the wetness of his cheeks and yoongi takes a shaky breathe in as his face involuntarily cuddles into your palm.
“and you were wrong that night, i will never move on from you, i am simply not capable of moving on from you, because i have never loved anyone more than i’ve loved you, i’ve never wanted someone as much as i have wanted you, every bit of me belongs to you, none of me is mine anymore. and it took you being away for me to realize that.” yoongi’s confession stops time and space. he feels exposed like someone stripped him naked and threw him into traffic but he finally lets you know everything he’s dreamed of telling you.
you press your forehead against him with a wobbling chin and cup his face with shaky hands.
“did you ever think, that by loving me, you were hurting me too?” you needed him to know the extent of his pain, the depth of his scars. yoongi lets you tell him, he needed to know as well.
“every day, i waited.” the ball in your throat gets tighter as you speak and yoongi hates that he’s the reason why.
“every single date you canceled, every night i fell asleep without you, every meal i had without you, all those days i went without seeing you, i need you to know that it killed me slowly, that it made me a shell of the person i am.” yoongi felt shame rushing through him at your words, at the pain he caused you.
he would understand if you didn’t let him in again.
he wouldn’t try again if you didn’t want him to, he has too much respect for you.
“i love you too much to not give you a chance, heck i would probably give you a chance even if you don’t ask for it.” he looks up with blurry eyes.
“but i need to believe that it will be different this time, not just know that it will be.” you step away at that, staring at yoongi who was left standing with a burden that suddenly fell on his shoulders.
how was he supposed to make you believe that?
could you not trust his word alone?
but then again, his words haven’t exactly ended things well for you both.
“how do you want me to show you?” he needed to know, there was nothing he needed to know more.
your breathing stalls at his words.
“please tell me.” his voice breaks as he whispers that, yoongi’s eyes gathering tears again and your heart falls to your feet at the redness coating his eyes.
you wished none of today would have happened.
“yoongi.” you whisper back but you don’t even know what he could do to mend things, you are not sure he can but you can’t deny him a chance.
you don’t have an answer for him.
“i am going apartment hunting soon” you confess finally, and he feels his breath get knocked out of his chest. “oh really?” he asks, sniffing as he looks away.
“my friend knows this real estate agent person who set me up for a few tours, you have to understand why i had to do it.” he knows exactly why you had to do it and he hated knowing that it was all because of him.
but he wasn’t going to give up after ripping his heart out for you.
“i’ll come with you.” yoongi nods and you frown at him, “yoongi, you really don’t have to, i know you are bus-“ he cuts you off, “i am not busy, let me come with you, i want to at least make sure you move into a nice place.” that was a total lie but it wasn’t like yoongi had a lot of options left.
you ponder for a while, and yoongi waits patiently for your answer, he won’t push you if you deny but he will be as stubborn as he can be without frustrating you.
“fine, i’ll let you know by tomorrow.” you finally give in and without another word, go back into your room. you close your door with an exhausted sigh, your face aligning with your reflection across the room.
your eyes were redder than ever and all the energy had been sucked out of your face, making you look sick and you felt sick too, your entire body was aching and you wondered if yoongi felt this way too, if he was as tired, if he felt like the world was pulling his body down, if he maybe wanted to give up because of this feeling.
you stay several minutes this way; you hadn’t thought you would call yoongi merchandise. you, of all people, knew how stressful his job got but you no longer wanted to use that as an excuse for how he treated you.
“how do you want me to show you?”
those words sent a shiver down your spine at that moment, it was the desperation that drenched his voice, the way his hands were shaking beside his body, and his eyes that looked through every inch of you, trying to find ways to convince you.
a slow knock drew you out of your mind, your hand locking around the doorknob to pull it open, and there stood the reason for all your pain and yearning.
yoongi held a tray of hot soup with ginger tea, and a bunch of chocolates, his gaze settling everywhere but at you, as he stood with shifting feet.
“you didn’t eat anything.” you didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten all day but apparently, yoongi had and that tightened your chest around your heart a little more, suffocating you with the love you held for him a little more.
with trembling fingers, you hoped he wouldn’t notice, you take the tray from his hands and place it on a table, and yoongi turns to leave, he didn’t want to bother you too much, he just wanted to make sure you ate.
you pulled on his wrist, not exactly sure of what you will do next but somehow, you needed to touch him, feel that he was real and that you both were here, so lost but still together.
“t-thank you.” you stutter out, every other word you had woven all these months stayed trapped in your mouth. yoongi stared at the hand that held his wrist, he had almost forgotten how out of breath this used to make him feel. how he used to lose nights of sleep imagining you and him, in a house, waking up next to you, falling asleep with you, long before you had both ever committed, yoongi had imagined every day in his life with you in it.
he can’t believe how close he is to losing all of it.
“we should talk, yoongi.” you feel tired but you won’t be catching any sleep in the state the both of you were in, he would spend all night worrying about you, and you would spend all night worrying about him.
yoongi silently followed you into the guest room, it was still strange for him to see you in another part of the house, he eyes the makeup that was scattered on the vanity, the clothes lying around on the sofa, your socks at the edge of the bed and as silly as it sounded, he hated that none of this mess was in the room you two shared.
“i’m still going to see the apartments” you start off awkwardly, taking a seat on the bed and yoongi stood at the corner of the bed, hating that it felt wrong to sit next to you at the moment.
when had it become so bad?
“and i’m still coming with you to see them.” he concludes and gathers all his courage before plopping down next to you. if today didn’t go the way it did, you would laugh at the distance between you two and pull him closer and tell him to stop acting funny, but none of that felt right.
“i think you understand you fucked up” you say, finally looking up at his figure next to you and you shouldn’t have, your resolve already was spread thin, and looking at yoongi didn’t help. “i do.” he agrees and nods shamefully.
“what are you going to do to fix it?”
“anything you want me to.” his answer is quick and firm, he was prepared for anything you would ask for, but you were tired of asking.
“it’s not about what i want, yoongi. i need to believe that you want this as much as i do, and that you’re prepared to fight for it, asking me about what to do is you just handing over the responsibility to me instead of at least trying to figure it out by yourself.” he listens intently, and puts himself in your shoes.
“i took a break from work.” your eyes widen at him and you have to force your jaw shut because you could’ve imagined anything but not those words leaving yoongi’s lips of all people.
“you, what?”
“work is good, very good but it was keeping me from you and it was hard to make that decision but i can always work, i can’t lose you. i can lose millions of dollars, this house, all my clothes, everything but nothing mounts to losing you.”
you have to force yourself to look away when he says that, because you never could have imagined that you were worth all of that and more to him and you are well aware of his deep affection for his work which makes it all the more sentimental that he was taking a break for you.
“i want to be worthy of you again, i want to spend time with you, i want to take care of you, i want to be anywhere around you as long as you want me. i thought i was working for us, for us to be comfortable, but i got selfish in the middle, and i ignored the person who kept me going when it got too hard.” he pauses, his breath shaking as his eyes fall shut. he remembers the exact second his chest almost blew up at the sight of you leaving home, he never wants to experience that again.
“it’s all on me, i should’ve never let you feel like i didn’t love you, loving you is one of the only things i can do right.”
“besides music.” you add in hopes to lighten the mood and you are successful when a full grin grows on yoongi, one that has your cheeks warming up with joy.
“besides music.” he agrees, “but i’ve done it for enough time now, i just want to love you, in the way you deserve to be loved. which is why i’m asking, no i’m begging for you to let me do this right, one last time.”
“what will change? if i say, yes?”
“all my time will be yours; all of my attention has always been yours and it will remain yours, i will make your food like i always have, we will go on dates whenever we want, and we will watch all the movies we’ve wanted to watch but couldn’t, we’ll do everything we used to do but better. it won’t go back to how it was but i don’t want us to stay as the shadow of who we used to be, because we’re meant for more than that.” he says sincerely, with his heartbeat echoing in every word and you couldn’t just pretend like you didn’t hear it.
“as much as i try to will this feeling away, i can never stop hoping for us.” in the next second that he utters those words, you throw yourself in his arms, and your final resolve breaks as his shaky hands snake down the length of your back like he can’t believe he gets to hold you like this again.
the first tear slips without knowledge, secretly and it disappears in his shoulder, his tear disappears in the crook of your neck. the tears that follow, fall shamelessly, without any intention of stopping and none of you say another word, not another ‘i need you to stay because i’ll lose the important piece of me if you go’, not another ‘i love you, like i’ve loved nothing else and losing you scares me like nothing else’, all of those remain unspoken but they hang in the air around you.
“i believe, with everything in me, that we’re meant for more than this.” yoongi braves to look at you, his eyes zeroing in on the curves of your cheeks, he hates that he was the reason for the tears that have fallen on them.
he can’t let it ever happen again.
“do you?”
-
“this one has beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows, i heard you have a passion for reading, so the sunlight will be perfect.” your agent says enthusiastically as he walks you through the sixth apartment you’ve seen today.
“she also has a passion for sleeping so that won’t work.” yoongi groans as he walks behind you, your face grows red as you slap him on the arm.
“if you’re going to complain about every house, just stay outside, i will look through them.” you grit your teeth at him but your heart softens when his mouth pulls into a whine, “our house is perfect, i literally don’t understand why you’re moving.”
all yoongi has done since he’s stepped out of home is complain about every single house you’ve been to.
“the closet won’t hold half your clothes.”
“a big kitchen is useless for you.”
“this literally looks like a druggie’s hideout.”
“it’s too white.”
no, you are not sure what he meant with the last one either but all you know is that he’s whisked you away from all of them before you could even consider them as options.
“we’ve talked about this, and we agreed that space could do us some good, and no, our house isn’t perfect, my bookshelf has no space left.” you complain lowly so that the agent doesn’t hear you but lo and behold he does. yoongi, on the other hand, can’t remember when he agreed that space would do you good, hell that’s the last thing he wants.
“which is why this house would be perfect for you, the bedroom offers a stunning full wall bookshelf that you can stock up with all of your reads without compromising for space!” he cheerfully chatters and yoongi’s jaw tightens, he hates this agent with all his body and soul even if he’s known him for an hour.
“i can build a bookshelf from scratch” he mumbles grumpily but he can’t help the way his heart flutters when he sees you catch sight of the bookshelf. it’s everything you ever want in a bedroom, a proper vanity, a low-set bed, perfect lighting, and of course, the majestic bookshelf.
your smile grows as you trace your fingers over the plush vanity and the bookshelf and yoongi’s face breaks into a half-smile.
it’s bittersweet, to have you, but in a different house, not the home you’ve built for years but yoongi would never deny anything that grew that smile on your face.
“i really like this one.” you beam at the agent who sighs out in relief but maintains a professional smile, “if you’re all set for it, i’ll get the paperwork ready.” he offers immediately and your eyes pass on yoongi’s figure in the doorway. he smiles at you encouragingly, as if he’s okay with it, but you know he’s not.
just then, yoongi’s phone rings and he excuses himself to step out to take the call, right before he leaves, he hears you say, “i’ll take this one” in a lovely, sing-song tone that he knows you only use when you’re truly happy. his shoulders slump but he knew that this would happen today, he had told his heart all night to not give up on him.
he answers the phone with an irritated tone, he didn’t know how to feel, he could barely listen to the person speaking to him on the phone, he wanted to be happy just for the fact that you agreed to give him a second chance, and that you were excited to spend time with him, but he couldn’t help the sinking in his chest at the thought of waking up and not seeing you.
“no, i am not coming in for work next week, i already told you this, don’t call me again.” yoongi says in a calm but stern manner, the person tries talking again but you were out of the house, and yoongi could care less about anything else.
“did you sign the papers? did you need a pen? i think i have one in my car, let me go grab it.” he rambles and hastens to make his way to the car but you bite back a smile and grip onto his hand.
“yoongi.” you step into his open arms and hug his torso, yoongi is confused but his arms wrap around you, and unconsciously you both are swaying in each other’s embrace.
the house was great but being in yoongi’s arms for these two minutes felt more like home than any house in the world and every corner of the house reminded you of the lack of his presence.
the kitchen, where he won’t cook, where he won’t make fun of your dishes.
the couch, where his headphones don’t lay carelessly.
the bedroom, where his side is neatly arranged while yours stays a mess.
the balcony, where he won’t sip his coffee dramatically at sunset to amuse you.
and the bookshelf, that he won’t help you fill with all the books he gets home, just because they reminded him of you.
you had wanted a home and space but you could find both of those in yoongi.
“you can build a bookshelf, right?” yoongi’s eyebrows scrunch at your question, he almost feels offended that you have to ask that.
“um duh, you know i can.” he whines and you giggle into his chest.
“then, i’m not moving.” yoongi’s arms almost fall away at your words, a strange mix of relief, gratefulness and content fill his every crevice as he tries not to hug you tighter, a punishment for even thinking of keeping you away from him.
and he will take this mix of emotions and remember it forever, the day you gave up on space to stay with him, he will remember the favor you did for his heart for as long as he breathes.
“i will build a million bookshelves if that’s what you want, all you have to do is stay, forever.” forever is a big word, a word yoongi never believed in, always saying that everything in life was on borrowed time but with you, it feels like too short of time.
you knew how he felt about forever so for him to say it to you, rushes into your chest and spreads with a warmth that makes you feel all things giddy and good.
he says nothing, no words, just keeps you in his arms after time had kept you away for too long.
“let’s go home, yoongi.”
#bts#bts fluff#bts imagines#jungkook smut#bts angst#bts smut#bts scenarios#jeon jungkook#jungkook fluff#yoongi moodboard#min yoongi#min suga#yoongi fluff#yoongi one shot#yoongi angst#yoongi x reader#yoongi fic#yoongi aesthetic#yoongi smut#bts yoongi#yoongi fanfic#namfinessed#yoongi fic recs#kim taehyung#jhope packs#park jimin#jin fic recs#bts masterlist#bts fic recs#bts fics
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Sub!stepbro!rafe please 😩
Summary: You steal coke from your stepbrother/fuck buddy, and he’s absolutely pussy whipped.
Warning: drug use, stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), Rafe is in love, mommy kink, edging, spanking (m recieving 😇), oral (m receiving), ball sucking, p n v, body worship, mild mentions of feet kissing, doing Coke off his dick and ass oops, ball sucking, squirting, creampie, sub! Rafe, dom! Reader, literally not canon at all but idc I wanna dominate him
“I know you took it!”
Rafe’s voice screams out throughout the incredibly large Cameron estate as you walk down the stairs, his fists clenched at his sides as he watches your retreating form. You roll your eyes, used to his tantrums and spoiled personality from the many months of living with him. You’re both alone, the house echoing your words and otherwise being completely empty.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Rafe.” You reach the end of the staircase to grab your jacket and slip it on. But before you can, Rafe’s hands grab your wrists harshly. He yanks you to him, his breath heavy and uneven.
“Give me my fucking coke back.”
So maybe you do know what he’s talking about. But so what? Rafe isn’t like you. Whereas coke makes him violent and corrupted, it makes you… well, an average coke addict. It isn’t a surprise for anyone to learn that what’s wrong with Rafe’s brain goes far beyond addiction. So, stealing it isn’t necessarily wrong.
It’s definitely not something anyone with half the balls you have would do, though.
Rafe’s voice on the edge of threatening,, but you merely bat an eyelash at the boy. His face is flushed, mouth mere inches away from your face as he looks down at you with a hesitant angered expression. Your eyes avert to the incredibly long fingers wrapped around your wrist, and then back up to him again with a clenched jaw.
“Let go of me, Rafe.” You demand. He hesitates, and the nervous softening of his grip doesn’t go unnoticed. You move closer, getting on your tip toes to reach his tall height. “Let go of me…now.”
He doesn’t remove his fingers from your wrists at first, but after a moment his hands drop from yours.
Rafe isn’t one to be told what to do, but when it’s you… it’s like he can’t do anything but follow your orders. The other times before this, the times when you had fucked him up in secret, in so many more ways than one, doesn’t help the situation. And as messed up as it is, you’re the only woman who can make him fall to his knees.
Even if you’re the daughter of his dad’s wife.
A small smirk forms on your face, eyes wild, and you’re taking another step towards him. He stumbles back into the wall. You laugh at the look in his eyes. One at first glance would say it’s annoyance, but you know better.
It’s fear.
“I don’t like boys who don’t do what they’re told the first time.”
Rafe scoffs, body moving to walk backwards up the stairs as you follow him with slow steps.
“I don’t like thieves.”
“Don’t be greedy and I won’t have to steal it.”
He chuckles nervously, reaching the top of the staircase.
“‘M not greedy. Just wished you would’ve asked first.”
You pause. You’re both off the steps now, eyes following each others as you beckon him towards your room.
“If you want it so bad, maybe you should come in my room and get it.”
The insinuation doesn’t go unnoticed. Rafe’s face flushes a deep crimson.
“Yeah?” He replies. He reaches for your doorknob, right across from his. “Guess I have to find it, then. Right?”
You don’t say anything, but a smile quirks your lips as he brings himself inside. When his knees hit the edge of your bed you push him down harshly. He gasps, his body hitting the mattress underneath him with a loud thud. He lifts himself up onto his elbows as you approach your bookshelf. Seated on the highest shelf is a golden jewelry box. You pull out the third drawer. You grab the packet of white powder sitting inside and turn around to show the boy.
“This what you want?”
You can tell by the way his mood changes, excitement glazing his features as he looks at the drug. “Yeah.”
“Gonna have to earn it.” You say, coldly.
“I’ll do anything.”
And you know he means it. So you walk over to the bed and grab him by his ankles. His jeans are still on, and your fingers begin to undo his belt. He looks at you with a desperate gaze; you know he could take his clothes off himself, but where’s the fun in that? And so, once the belt is through the loops, you unbutton his jeans and push them down. Dior briefs are exposed to you, and you snicker.
“I didn’t even know dior made underwear. Preparing for something, Cameron?”
The boy huffs. “I just- I know it’s your favorite brand, that’s all.”
“So you wore them for me?” Your fingers ghost over the large bulge accompanying the fabric. He lets out a low groan. “That’s so cute. But it sounds like you came to me looking for a fight. Just so I’d put you in your place.”
“Maybe I did. So what?” He snarks. You narrow your eyes, and your palm lands harshly on his thigh. He whines.
“Don’t be a fucking brat. Now take your shirt off and turn over.”
Of course, he obeys; hands going to the hem of his striped top, he pulls it over his head and exposes his naked chest and torso to you. He’s gorgeous, perfectly chiseled and tense with arousal. He uses his legs to turn himself around onto his stomach.
“Like this?” He asks. Faux innocence drips off of every honeyed syllable.
“Yes, baby. Just like that.”
You sit down on your pink sheets next to Rafe’s pliant body. He’s breathing shallowly, waiting for you next move. You grab his ankles once again and maneuver his body so he’s laying across your lap. His brows furrow in confusion, but they quickly lift into pleasure as his mouth falls open. Your palm comes down on his left cheek. A teasing slap, one that isn’t meant to cause pain, but enough to present the idea of spanking to the boy’s mind.
“Yeah…” It’s all Rafe’s brain can muster, the feeling of being bent over his stepsister’s knee making blood rush to his cock a lot more than it should. “Thas’ good, momma…”
“Jesus...” You pull down his briefs, exposing his pretty round globes to the room. You grab the bag of coke and quickly poor a line down onto his right cheek. Rafe tries to look back at what you’re doing, but you’re other hand grabs his hair and yanks him back down to look at the bed.
“Don’t. Stay fucking still.”
You pull and adjust Rafe’s thighs so he’s a bit lifted. Careful not to spill the coke, you bring your nose down to his cheek and snort up the white powder. He knows what you’re doing, and his legs clench together as he tries to relieve his arousal and the urge to snatch the bag out of your hands. Your eyes roll back when the drug hits your system, a low groan leaving your lips.
“Fuck, that’s good.”
Rafe just moans, bare cock pressing against your thigh as he tries to rut against it. He’s dripping, you can feel him making a wet spot form on your skirt. Your palm goes down to his ass again; not to hit him, just to feel him under your fingertips.
“It’s okay, Rafe.” you coo. “You’ll get your share. Just be patient.”
“Don’t wanna,” he whines. “Wanna do a line off your tits… wanna fuck your pussy. Want ‘em both so bad.”
“You’ll get to soon. But I think you need a punishment for your smart mouth, first. Don’t you?”
He doesn’t say anything, just rocks his ass back into your hands as confirmation: yes, momma. I do need a punishment. I’ve been a bad boy.
Rafe has always been shy with words. So you don’t scold when he doesn’t reply. You just tilt your hand back, and spank him harshly. He mewls, hands gripping the sheets below him as his cheeks redden from your abuse. Another slap comes down, and after a few more you can feel tears dripping on your thigh. You smile at the sight of his reddened cheeks, the way he squirms when you rub your fingers over him. And after five more hits, the boy is sobbing into your leg.
“Such a sweet boy,” you praise. He shakes when you press a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Taking your punishment so well. I think you deserve a reward.”
“Please, mommy.” He pleads.
“Get up, honey. Sit up on your knees for a minute.”
He obeys, a small sniffle sounding from him as he does so. The sight of Rafe Cameron, your stepbrother, crying for you like this shouldn’t make you so wet. But it does.
When he’s on his knees you make sure to put a pillow down on the mattress before getting him to lay down on his back; he’s a strong boy, and he can handle a lot, so his sore ass is the last thing he’s thinking of when you ask if he’s okay. He just nods, cushioned underneath the pillow and looking up at you with heavy eyes and a large, hardened cock. You pick up the coke bag again, and teasingly hold it in front of your clothed pussy. And when Rafe sees it, he’s like one of Pavlov’s dogs: The two of his favorite things right in front of each other. He looks at you with longing.
“Can I have them? Please?”
“Not yet.”
He goes to whine, but you shush him with the threat of spanking him again.
“Just stay down, Rafe.” You demand. He nods, although he wants to protest.
You grip his cock, and his eyes flutter shut in surprise and pleasure. But it’s all in stride; you’re only holding it right now. Rafe’s bottom lip gets caught between his teeth when he feels your spit pool along his shaft. And then, you pour the coke onto his cock. It’s an odd feeling, and it tingles a bit. But when Rafe looks down, he wonders why he’s never done it before. Your nose is pressed against him, trying to snort up most of the coke. It’s just messy, though. His pre cum just made the coke stick to him, so you’re practically rubbing your face in his arousal.
And Jesus, that makes Rafe’s cock kick.
“Can’t get it?” He teases.
You just reply, “Fuck you, Cameron.” And then move your tongue along his cock. And he gasps, low and throaty, as he feels your tongue lick along the base of his length and then down to his balls. He’s hairless there (of course he is), so it’s easy and makes it all worthwhile. As you suckle the heavy sacks into your mouth, your pussy drips with wetness.
“Oh my god, that’s good, shit—“ Rafe fucks up into your mouth, and you press his hips back down so he can’t. You look up at him and watch as his face scrunches up in pleasure when your teeth graze his balls. You pull off of him with a pop as he continues to beg for his release.
“I’m gonna give you what you want now.” You state.
“Really? Thank you—“ he leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead and cheeks. It shouldn’t be as affectionate as it is. “—thank you so much, momma.”
And he means it. Which isn’t common for Rafe fucking Cameron. But he does a lot of things he usually doesn’t do when he’s with you.
You lay down on your back with the coke in your hand. When Rafe tries to reach for it, you just tsk.
“No, baby. You have to fuck me first.”
He frowns, but he’s also giddy from the thought of being able to stick himself inside you. So he does what he’s told, and lifts up your skirt. The smell of your arousal hits him, and he keens.
“You smell so fuckin’ good.” He mumbles. And he can’t wait any longer, so he pushes your thong to the side and slides right into your soaked entrance. You smile, head tilting back and exposing your neck. Rafe doesn’t hesitate to leave bite marks along the expanse of the skin there. You’re the perfect amount of heat and wetness to make his cock throb in its place.
“Good?” You ask. You know the answer, but you want him to talk to you more.
“Really, really good.” He groans. “You’re always so tight— best pussy I’ve ever had, fuck!”
He’s trying to hold his resolve, but with all the edging you’ve been doing he going to cum quick. He sobs as he bucks up into you, as you drip around his girthy length. And then your arms are wrapping around his back as you start to unzip the bag of coke once again. You pull your top down and expose your breasts to Rafe, and pour the substance in between the valley of skin there. His mouth opens wide, and he just… shoves his face into it. It’s so filthy, and so vulgar, as he snorts the drug up into his nose and licks it off of you. He starts to lick your nipples ferociously, muttering thank yous over and over again. His fingers reach down to rub your clit and you cry out at the pleasure.
“Good boy- good Fuckin’ boy, Rafe!” You moan out. “God.. ‘m gonna cum! Gonna cum all over your cock—“
And that’s exactly what you do. Your high crashes over you in powerful waves, and Rafe lets out a small laugh as he watches you squirt all over him.
“Yeah. That’s it, momma.” He looks genuinely happy, genuinely excited and content. “I’m- I’m so proud of you, holy shit.”
“Yeah?” You try to tease calmly, but the force of your orgasm has you stuttering and shaky. “You have to come for me, too.”
And that brings Rafe back to his cock inside of you, to his unfinished orgasm, and he begins to pummel you with no remorse. His thighs slap against yours aggressively as you scream from the overstimulation. He catches sight of the bracelet you have wrapped around your ankle. It’s made of solid gold, one he had gotten you for your nineteenth birthday, that has Cameron engraved on it in thick letters. Ward and your mom had found it endearing.
‘Your brother got your last name on it!’ Your mother had gushed. ‘How sweet!’
Little did she know that it was a sign of his possession. His possession over his stepsister, his baby sis, as he called you around his family. But although Rafe owns you, he knows you’ll always be the one in control: in control of his thoughts, his mind, his body, his feelings. You’re everything.
He presses kisses to your toes. Not in a weird way.. at least he hopes it’s not in a weird way. His tongue runs along the ridges of your ankle, a little bit up your calf. His strong arms grab ahold of your thighs and push them up, up. Eventually they’re over your head, and you’re crying out for another orgasm. His nose buries itself into your neck, and he can smell you— perfume, sweat, skin, cocaine, and fuck, Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever been with someone this perfect. And when you cry out his name on your lips, when you clench around him just right, he’s filling your cunt up with thick ropes of his cum. He eats you out afterwards, of course. He’s yours, after all, and whatever you want you get. And it’s perfect, even after that: when you’re laying there while he’s on top of you, snorting that last bit of drug that you had stolen from him, his high buzzing through his brain. When your hands run through his hair and offer to put lotion on the spots where you had spanked him. It’s perfect.
Almost. Because how in the fuck are you going to explain this to your parents?
#Rafe Cameron#cruel intentions type beat#Rafe Cameron x reader#Rafe Cameron x fem! reader#Rafe Cameron x stepsister! reader#Stepbrother! Rafe Cameron x reader#Rafe Cameron smut#Rafe Cameron fanfiction#Stepbrother! Rafe Cameron#s2 Rafe Cameron#Obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#obx fanfiction#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe obx x reader#sub! rafe Cameron#dom! reader
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Puzzle Pieces Ch.4
(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)
Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3
Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex
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It was quiet. Aside from the wind hitting your window, there was not a single sound echoing the halls. It seemed as if all of your neighbors had decided to go out shopping for the upcoming holiday. You on the other hand, were enjoying your day off. You were enjoying this rare, peaceful day.
You were snuggled in a large blanket on your couch as you worked on a puzzle. They were one of your favorite pass times and a good way to calm you down. Why did you need to calm down? Well, Miguel had asked you out for a lunch date today.
"I need to get dressed." You whispered for the tenth time.
Glancing at the clock, you tried to take deep breathes again. Putting another puzzle piece in place, you stopped to finally get dressed. You glanced down at the puzzle once more, feeling as if you were staring in a mirror.
You wondered, far too many times, what your life would have been like if you never dated Eddie. You felt like you lost a lot of yourself during that time. Picking up those pieces was hard and you weren't sure where to start. Especially now.
Gripping your sleeves, you hung your shoulders as you tried to hide the state of yourself. It was hard for you to acknowledge your beauty. Every time Miguel complimented you, you didn't have words for him. A thank you felt too obscure for you.
"Okay, you can do this," You whispered to yourself.
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Miguel was standing in front of your shammy building. He scrunched his nose up at the smell, the noise and worst of all, the filth of this place. How could someone as pure and innocent as you live in such a dirty, tainted place.
Not like he has any right.
Checking his phone, Miguel wanted to make sure that you were not skipping out on him. Not like you could. Hearing the loud creek of your main apartment building door, Miguel glanced up. There you were, all covered up as usual.
"S-Sorry, I-I hope...you weren't waiting too...too long." You stuttered, approaching the stern man.
"No," Miguel said simply, glancing at your clothing.
He kept a dull gaze as you entered his car. Your clothes were not up to par with his standards. They were old, raggy and seemed like they would tear easily. Sitting beside you, Miguel paid attention to your behavior. You kept tugging and nitpicking your sleeves.
"You don't need to be nervous," Miguel told you, watching you flinch, "I won't bite."
"S-Sorry, this...this is my first, um, date since..." You paused, recalling your horrible ex. Miguel swore he saw your eyes water,
"You don't have to tell me if you don't want too."
"I-It's fine!" You gasped, hiding your face with your sleeve again, "I was, um...in a bad relationship before...S-So...S-Sorry for being nervous..." You whispered.
Miguel had an idea. He had Lyla dig up as much research on you as she could. He wanted to know who you were and what you did for a living. To his surprise, there wasn't much on you after you dropped out of college. It made him curious about what happened to you during your past relationship.
After all, Miguel didn't like it when his belongings were broken. If you were going to be his, then he wanted to make sure you were okay with him. Miguel wanted to make sure nothing harms you.
"Why don't we lighten the mood. Tell me about yourself."
You glanced at Miguel, caught off guard by the suggestion. With a smile, you gladly started to talk to him. Hoping that you weren't rabbling too much. You wanted this to be a good relationship. You wanted Miguel to know what you liked and didn't like.
Miguel kept eye contact with you as you spoke. He let you rabble on and on, enjoying the sound of your sweet voice. He almost cracked a smile as you started to get excited, talking about little things. Shit that Miguel would never even think about had you gushing in a frenzy.
This was new.
Miguel liked this.
It felt like he could listen to you for hours. Watching you get out of breathe, Miguel resisted a chuckle as he offered you a water from a hidden mini fridge. Your face lit up as you looked at the hidden fridge. You were adorable. Miguel almost felt bad for thinking about last night as he pumped his dick in his hand.
"T-Thank you," You cooed, refreshing yourself, "Um...Sorry if I...talked too much...W-What about you?" You asked.
Miguel decided to play a game, "Hm, tell me, what do you think you know about me?" He asked.
Let's see if you answered like all of the other sluts who tried to bed him. Miguel wanted to see if you were secretly a gold digger, just to have a reason to stop having these feelings for you. It felt wrong, but Miguel wanted to stop this before it got out of hand. All he wanted was to fuck you, but instantly he knew that this was not going to be the case.
"Um, w-well, y-you're uh, handsome," You stuttered, cheeks growing redder as you spoke, "Y-You're voice is low...yet...kind. B-But, you go into the scary freezer at w-work...s-so you do something bad, I think. I-I don't want to think that...um, y-you have a nice car...and um, nice suits."
"Dios Mio. Este conejito va a ser mi muerte. (My god. This little bunny is going to be the death of me.)" Miguel whispered.
"Y-You speak Spanish." You said with a shy smile.
Miguel let out a rare laugh. It spooked even his driver. Unable to stop his little fit, Miguel turned towards you and stroked your cheek. Your eyes widen as if you were memorized by him. Miguel inhaled to the sight of your sparkling orbs.
"That was not what I was expecting." He hummed, his thumb rubbing circles around your cheek, "Do you know how innocent you are? Makes me want to gobble you up."
"Eep," You squeaked, growing even more flustered.
Miguel's smirk widen, enjoying your reaction. Noticing that they have arrived, Miguel helped you out of the car. You were covering your face from embarrassment and noticed that you were in front of a clothing store. You turned to Miguel, looking around,
"U-Um...Is...Is this one of those...fancy places where the r-restaurant is hidden behind a clothing rack...or something?"
"Señor, dame fuerzas para no follarla en el auto aquí y ahora. (Lord, give me strength to not fuck her in the car right here and now.)" He groaned. You titled your head,
"Um," Immediately recalling when Eddie would snap at you for stupid remarks, you winced and lowered your head, "S-Sorry...It was...It was a dumb thing t-to s-say." You stuttered.
Miguel's ears perked up as your stuttering got worse. He glanced at you, seeing you tremble as you avoided eye contact. This made him grind his teeth. He lifted your chin, watching tears threaten to spill. Whoever this ex of yours was, Miguel was going to kill him.
"Nothing you say is stupid. I wanted to treat you to some new clothes before we go to lunch."
"Y-You d-don't have too!"
"But I want too."
Miguel grabbed your hand and led you inside the building. The workers all immediately bowed and started to get to work. Miguel had to raise his hand and direct their attention to you. The male workers immediately moved away, while the women took you under their care.
"Give her something nice, long sleeved." Miguel said simply before taking a seat in their VIP section.
"M-Miguel?"
"It's okay. Pick whatever you want, they won't say anything."
You rolled your lips inward and shyly nodded. It would be rude to deny his offer, you were just worried about what the cost will be later. Such things never came for free.
Feeling dizzy as the workers showed you a bunch of outfits, you took a few of them and went into the fitting rooms. A worker tried to offer to help, but you grew scared. She saw this and left you alone. Once inside the fitting room, you slowly started to undress.
There, in the mirror, you saw the sight you didn't want anyone else to see. You had bruises that never healed, cuts across your arms and some cigarette burn marks. Every time you looked in the mirror, you cried. It felt like these were missing pieces that could never be found like a puzzle.
"Miss (Y/N), are you alright?" A worker asked.
"O-Oh, y-yes, s-sorry." You whimpered.
Finishing up, you hurried out to show the workers. They all clapped and agreed that the new attire suited you. Deciding on it, you went to change, but Miguel appeared and told you to keep it on. The workers placed your old clothes in a bag and Miguel swiftly paid.
"M-Miguel-" Oh, how his name rolled off your tongue so nicely, "A-Are you sure this...this is okay?"
"Of course," Miguel returned you to the car, "Now for that lunch I promised."
You sat beside Miguel, playing with your sleeves. You glanced up at him, seeing a smile on his face. You glanced away for a second, before continuing your prior conversation,
"S-So...Do you think...You can tell me...about yourself?" You asked.
Miguel arched a brow, before giving in. What harm would it be for his little bunny to know some things about him. Miguel started off simple, his likes, his dislikes and his home. He watched you, surprised by how intent you were on listening to him. Normally, the other girls would be bored by now.
"I'm the CEO of Alchemax," He continued, knowing that this was what the girls wanted.
"Alchemax?" You questioned, thinking, "Hm, w-wait, t-the Alchemax?! Like, CEO...B-Big Boss?"
"Haha, yes." Miguel adored your reaction.
"That explains the hidden fridge in the car,"
Unable to contain his laughter again, Miguel burst out. You were truly something else. Miguel was going to enjoy having you for himself. Oh, he could see it now. His precious little girlfriend, all nuzzled up to his side. His innocent little bunny who knew so little of who he truly was.
Explaining a bit more to you, Miguel felt his desire grow larger. This hunting game was turning into something more. Miguel hummed as he helped you out of the car once more and into the restaurant. His grip around your waist was firm, wanting to make sure that everyone knew who his next trophy was.
"Don't be nervous," He whispered in your ear as you entered the restaurant.
You followed Miguel to a fairly size table on the top floor in the balcony. Your heart was racing a mile a minute as you tried to think of the cost of everything. Miguel must have sensed your worry since he reminded you to take deep breathes.
Once seated, you glanced at the menu and nearly froze at the prices. Yes, Miguel just confessed that he was a CEO, but this was too much for a first date. You were almost scared to order anything.
"Hm? Don't go looking for the cheapest item," Miguel said with a casual smile, "Order whatever you want."
"B-But...It's so...pricey. I-I can just have a water." You whimpered. Miguel went to grab you hand, placing his lips against it,
"I took you out of your comfort zone, so I'm treating you. I can just pick something if you don't know what to get?" He offered.
Miguel had to bite the inside of his cheek as he saw the pleading look in your eyes. So submissive. Miguel wondered if you would look at him like that in bed too.
Clearing his throat, he waved towards the waiter and ordered for the both of you. Miguel tried to ease you up, but asking how you liked the city and your job. He didn't want his little bunny to get too frighten and run away.
"I-I'm sure you've seen...h-how nervous I can get...S-So work is a little...stressful, b-but I manage!"
"You've gotten thinner though,"
"Ah-" You tensed, lowering your head, "S-Sometimes...I don't have the um, energy to eat. O-Or I don't eat much."
Miguel furrowed his brows. This was sounding a little familiar. Almost like what one of his close men, Peter, went through after his girlfriend broke up with him. Already knowing how this goes, Miguel started to text Lyla.
He let you rabble, wanting to get your mind off your nerves. That, and Miguel felt at ease listening to you. Once the food arrived, Miguel kept watching you. It was a bad habit of his. He was so used to the fake women who tried to get with him, that he just wanted to find a flaw. But how could he?
You were enjoying every bite. Your smile growing wider as you held your cheeks in awe. You were so thankful for whatever you ate. Miguel slowly drank his whiskey, just enjoying this. For the first time in a long time, he was actually enjoying himself.
"Mhm~ Thank you, Miguel~" You cooed happily as you finished your meal. Miguel finished his as well,
"Of course,"
The two of you ended up chatting for a while longer at the restaurant. Hearing his phone go off, Miguel grunted as he saw a meeting notification. This wasn't an Alchemax meeting either. Miguel had some more business with Vulture and even Ock's gangs.
Apologizing to you, Miguel took your hand and brought you to the car. He wanted to drive you home first before dealing with whatever blood bath he was going to have later.
"M-Miguel, I-I know you said not to worry...B-But...W-What, no, um, h-how would you-"
"Another date," Miguel knew where you were going with that sentence.
"S-Sure!" You chirped happily and thought, "I-Is it okay...If maybe, I pick the place...next time?"
Miguel was surprised by your suggestion. He did have to be careful due to his underworld status, but hell. Agreeing to your terms, Miguel smiled as you started to cheer excitedly in your seat. Your smile was addicting.
Once you arrived back home, you were escorted to your apartment by Miguel again. You stood at your door frame, playing with your fingers. Miguel went to kiss your hand once more, thanking you for the evening. You squeaked lowly,
"N-No, t-thank you!" You chirped and started to rub your arms, hesitantly, "C-Can...C-Can I...I-I text you later?"
Miguel questioned your stuttering and movements. Why were you so nervous now?
"I'll be waiting-" Before he could finish his sentence, you kissed his cheek.
"T-T-Thank you!!!" You squeaked before hurrying inside.
Miguel just exhaled as he stared at your door. His fingers trailed his cheek where you kissed, smirking. You were going to be such a beautiful trophy wife for him.
"Until next time, my little bunny."
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#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel spiderverse#miguel o’hara x reader#spiderman 2099#miguel spiderman#atsv miguel#across the spiderverse#miguel ohara smut
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heal me. (pt 3)
ellie williams x f!reader pt 1, pt 2
warnings: nervous/cutesy ellie, fluff, yearning, eventual kissing !!
a/n: no mentions of medic stuff this time bc i wanted reader to enjoy life outside of that. also i’m sorry for putting this off, i just wasn’t sure how i felt ab it </3 but here’s the final part !!
“Wow… you really do have the whole collection.” You murmur, lightly grazing your fingertips over the spines of Ellie’s comics.
It was the first time you had been to her house. Well… garage. She wasn’t exactly proud of it either, but it was homely.
“Pretty cool, huh?” She says, watching you. “I’ve probably read it about a dozen times already.”
You smiled, turning and looking at her over your shoulder. She shifts on her bed.
“Didn’t know you were a geek.”
“A- A geek?” She stutters, raising her eyebrows. “Wow, okay. Ouch.”
You both laughed, and you bit down on your lip. “It’s not a bad thing. Geeks are cute.”
You turned to look back at her bookshelf as Ellie’s face flushes. She knew you were flirting with her — it was obvious you were flirting with her — but she didn’t know what to do next.
“Mind if I read the second one while I’m here?” You ask, pulling the sandwiched comic out of its spot.
“Go for it,” She says, pulling her converse off her feet. “You can come sit over here. I mean — if, if you want.”
You grinned, spinning on your heel before plopping yourself on her bed. It was soft, and surprisingly comfy.
“Hey, this isn’t fair.”
“What?” She says, eyes widening.
“Your bed. It’s so nice,” You comment, looking up at her. “How do you just casually have the best bed, like, ever?”
The redhead laughs. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“I’m not even kidding,” You sigh. “God. I could sleep here forever.”
As you turn the page and begin reading, Ellie can’t help but look over at you. You were inches away from her, on her bed, in her bedroom. And you said you wanted to sleep next to her. It felt surreal.
She swears she could probably die happy right about now.
About ten minutes pass, and Ellie clears her throat. “So, uh, how are you liking it so far?”
“It’s really good,” You say, still holding the book up. “I think I could get into this series… if you’ll let me, of course.”
“Y-Yeah,” She says quickly. “Yeah, of course. Uh, whenever you want.”
You smiled gently before looking over at her.
“Hey, Ellie?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask. “Or… boyfriend? Sorry. Should’ve asked.”
Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. “G-Girlfriend. And uh, no, not currently.”
“So you’re seeing someone?” You question.
“No— No, sorry. I meant… that I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Oh.” You say simply, before returning to the comic. Her head swarms as she tries to figure out your intentions.
Was that was your way of telling her you liked her? Shit, or were you just being friendly? She couldn’t tell. She didn’t wanna read into it wrong.
A few more minutes pass as she looks down at you. “Um… and you?”
“Huh?” You say, looking up from the book. “Me?”
“Y-Yeah. Do… you have someone?”
“No,” You say. “I’d be surprised if anyone even liked me. I mean… I’m not all that. But you? You get to go on patrol and look all badass and stuff.”
Ellie blushes, looking down at the ground. “You— you look good, too. Better. I meant… better.”
She wants to kick herself. Why does she sound so stupid when she wants to flirt back?
Nonetheless, you took the compliment with a smile. “Thanks, Ellie.”
Ellie gives a thin-lipped smile, desperately hoping she was better at putting her thoughts into words. And that she wasn’t a total dork.
The two of you had spent the next few hours in her room. The sun slowly began to lower in the sky, painting her window blinds a pale shade of gray. You had gone through two comics at most, as you had spent half of your time speaking to her instead of actually reading.
“Alright,” You nudged her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me a story.”
“Alright, alright.” She pauses. “I have a good one. It’s about my friend Jesse.”
“Okay. Shoot,” You reply, looking up at her.
You realized that you enjoyed watching her. More than anyone you had ever met.
There was a sparkle she got in her eyes when she was excited about something, and her nose would scrunch whenever she described something she didn’t like. It was cute and adorable and god, you wanted more of her.
“…And so while me and Dina were sledding, he slips and absolutely busts his ass.” At this point, Ellie’s smiling, making grand hand gestures as she explains.
“I’m talkin’ full on, face first into the fucking snow! It was hilarious, and—“
She notices your staring, and immediately clears her throat. “Uh... are— are you okay?”
“Yeah,” You say, pushing yourself up from the position you were laying in. You scoot closer, so you’re hovering over her face.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask, looking into her eyes. When you’re met with silence, you close your eyes, mentally scolding yourself.
“Sorry… was that awkward?” You cover your face with your hands. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? N-Nevermind. I swear I was listening—“
For a moment, you were worried that maybe you had come on too strong. That just as you began to make a new friend, you had pushed her away, in a rather embarrassing manner. But your fears dissipate when you feel the warmth of her hands on yours.
She peels your hands away from your face, holding them gently. Her fingers were nimble, and rather coarse, but her touch is near electrifying.
“Please,” She whispers, barely audible. And before you have the chance to lean in, her lips have already hit yours.
Ellie’s kiss is desperate; it was something she had been wanting to do since she had first met you. And inside, she’s ecstatic, because she never thought you’d ask her to.
Her lips are warm, and encompassing, and her breath is shallow against your face. She goes slowly as to burn this memory into her brain.
When the two of you pull away, it’s quiet. You were worried if maybe you had changed the dynamic too quickly, but then she speaks.
“I… I really wanted that.” She says softly. You smile, nodding.
“Yeah. Me too.”
You turn your head away in an attempt to ease the fluttering in your chest. Ellie’s eyes are still on you, and she reaches out to brush a stray piece of hair away from your neck.
Your eyes land on the comic cover, and you laugh halfheartedly.
“I, um, barely finished it.” You utter. “The book.”
“Oh,” She says, raising her brows. “You… you can take some more with you, if you want. So you can read them.”
You shrug, looking back over at her.
“Or maybe I can just come back over here.” You add. “So I can read them with you?”
Ellie’s heart skips a beat, and she quickly nods. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s— great.”
You got up from her bed, putting the comics back. When you turn around, you press your lips together, looking off to the side.
“One condition, though.”
“Hm?” She says, looking back over at you.
“I come over as your girlfriend… not your friend.” You say shyly. “It’s my only rule.”
Ellie grins, standing up from the bed as well. She approaches you slowly.
“Well… you’re leaving as my girlfriend… aren’t you?”
“Am I?” You smile coyly, putting your arms around her neck. “This your way of asking me out?”
Ellie nods, face flushed. She thought it was cute, and a little funny, that you had casually assumed she went around kissing people she wasn’t into. She considered herself way too much of a loser to accomplish something like that.
You giggle a bit.
“Okay, then. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend.”
Her girlfriend. Her girl. Ellie can’t help but feel fuzzy at the thought of it.
It sounded good — it sounded right, rolling off of your tongue. She truly couldn’t wait to have you around her arm, walking with you around town.
Ellie doesn’t say anything else, merely smiles bashfully as you lean in to kiss her again.
And even though she couldn’t be sure of the future, she’s sure that in this moment, she wouldn’t wanna be with anyone else besides you.
#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou2#ellie x fem reader#tlou2 fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams fluff
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