#((does it matter? she's already so perfect :3))
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(Tw: blood under the cut)
"~Every single inch of you is a 10, baby!~
~Something so phenomenal, nobody would believe!~
~I ain't overreacting! You really are a Master-
Piece of art! You're a--
Piece Of Art!~"
((Woooah Smitty you ok there? O_o
I bet he's good! But anyway, once again, I made a piece based on a song cover! This time Piece of Art. If you know the song, then you know EXACTLY why I chose Smitten. And if you don't, listen to it and come back to tell me I'm right/jk
#mai art#mai rambles#slay the princess#stp voices#stp voice of the smitten#voice of the smitten#tw: blood#stp spoilers#((kinda???))#((maybe spoilers for his more...dramatic tendecies))#((i have so many ideas that i am negelcting my voice design fuck!!))#((sorry broken you're gonna have to wait!))#((the princess in the painting?))#((does it matter? she's already so perfect :3))
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hold on im still too mad at this one fucking guest to take a nap i need to be a hater for a minute
#so when i say hell on earth kinda day i mean HELL ON EARTH kinda day#we had a large bus travel group from slovakia and then some other guests and it was almost a hundred people for breakfast#the bus group all came at the same time they descended onto the buffet like fucking seagulls i swearrrrr#and i divided tasks like i had two helpers with me in the kitchen so one guys job was just to gather dirty dishes + washing + taking clean#ones back out#and the other guy running around the buffet checking whats needed + restockjng the cold food + telling me all the hot stuff that needs#refilling. so i was in the kitchen making all the hot foods on constant rotation + chopping fruits and making smoothies and shit#and like we managed. WE MANAGED. the buffet was never even half empty at any point like yes there was always something that was empty but#dude who cares if the vanilla yoghurt is empty for 5 mins just pick something else.#and everyone was happy with their breakfast and really nice when asking if we have more of this and that etc and then there was one lady#this ONE FUCKINGGGG lady i swear i almost threw hands#she was complaining about everythinggggggggggg#about there not being any more fried eggs (already in the pan. done in 2 mins. but when helper nr2 told her that she said well why did we#run put in the first place) about the bread station being full of crumbs like girl its BREAD. my giy was running up and down the buffet#wiping it off and cleaning as fast as he could but if you allow people to cut their own bread there will be fucking crumbs. the fuck.#then she also didnt like how the butter looked bc OBV people kept using the butter and no matter how many times you go in and make it look#neat again as soon as the next person takes some it will not look picture perfect anymore#like while i was running back and forth restocking stuff with my arms full she TOOK MY ARM and pointed at things and was like#'this looks shit' so does your fucking face but you dont see me getting physical about it#and then when i came out with a big tray of fresh glasses and cups she pointed to where someone had spilled some water at the dispenser and#went 'there is water on the buffet' (far away from any food + literally its just water) and i said 'yes i know' and she goes 'well it doesnt#look very appealing. this is the worst buffet ive ever seen' and i go 'well surely you have seen how busy we are' and she FUCKING GOES#'i dont care. i paid money for this.' and i go 'well that makes two of us for not caring. we'll get to it when we have the time.' and she#said something else idk what bc i was finished with my task and had SHIT TO DO BC PPL WERE STILL EATING#so i just turned and ran back to the kitchen to keep working#actually i got back to the kitchen and said to guy nr1 'i need to go punch something' and then went out the back and started kicking the#shit out of a pile of paper boxes and THEN i continued working#and then she started TAKING PICTURES of everything she didnt like of the buffet like full offense i hope she gets hit by a bus#like with some people you can just tell they never worked a day in the service industry and no matter what you do theyll keep complaining#anyways :) tag limit. apparently. so its nap time now. honk shoo snork mimimi and so forth <3
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Out Of The Woods
summary: The war is over and Rhaenyra’s daughter gets a fresh start in The North.
pairing: Cregan x Targaryen!Reader
word count: 842
warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, grief, RIP Jace <\3
note: Sooo……. It appears that I’m in Cregan Simp Mode
It is a brighter day than usual when your labors start. The sun even begins to peak behind the clouds, casting a gorgeous gleam over Winterfell. It has been six months since the civil war between your family has ended and it seems as though the smoke-like grief that clouds your mind is finally beginning to clear. After all of your pain and suffering, you are now far away from Dragonstone and even farther away from King’s Landing. As your younger brother sits the Iron Throne, you have a hope for a peaceful realm. As well as hope that you and Cregan will finally be able to start anew.
Things are different in Winterfell, especially now that the dance has ended. There is no pressure for your babe to have silver hair or violet eyes. No pressure for it to be born with a cock. All that matters is that the babe is healthy. Your child will not suffer the same hardships as you and your siblings once did.
You can hear heavy footsteps outside of the chamber as Cregan paces restlessly. While you endure another hour of labor, you try to keep your mind elsewhere. Your gaze is fixed on the flicker of the candle that sits in the chandelier above your head.
One of your earlier memories is your mother being in labor with Joffrey. You remember wincing at her screams and placing judgement on the names she called her midwives. Now you don’t blame her. You even admire her for going through this so many times. You miss her terribly.
Your hand grips tightly onto the wooden headboard as you try your hardest to listen to the instructions of your midwife.
“Push into the pain,” she advises you, “when the pain is at its worst, that’s when you will want to push the hardest, my lady.”
Your knees are at your chest, a thin layer of sweat covers your entire body, and your once white nightgown is now stained red. You inhale deeply as you brace yourself for another painful contraction.
And just like that, it’s happening again. It begins as a dull ache in your spine that eventually overtakes you completely. It feels as if you were being torn to shreds. Your muscles begin to spasm and each wave of pain is worse than the last.
A particularly loud scream echoes out into the hallway and it has Cregan bursting through the door into the room, his auburn brows furrowed.
“This is not the place for men, my Lord,” your midwife sternly warns him.
“I do not care! What’s happened?”
“Nothing!” you bark at him, your teeth gritted. This is a pain he is unable to comprehend.
“I’m fine, we’re fine. It just hurts. That’s all.”
Cregan frowns at you as he comes to stand at your side.
“My lord—” your midwife tries to interject once again.
“I’m staying.”
He keeps true to his word and remains at your side for the rest of your labor, despite your midwife’s wishes — earning him many dirty looks.
Another painful contraction comes and the pain is mind blowing. But it seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. You bring your chin down to your chest and push with all of your might. You push as if your life depends on it, because it does.
“That’s it, my lady! Perfect. I can see the babe already, a full head of hair,” she states.
Just when you swear you cannot push anymore, you feel sudden relief and loud cries fill the room.
“It’s a boy,” your midwife declares, and Cregan squeezes onto your hand tightly.
“And he is one healthy pup! With quite the set of lungs!” she adds.
About an hour later, once you are moved from the birthing bed and all cleaned up, you sit in your large bed that you and Cregan share. Your babe is cozily bundled up and suckling at your breast, his tiny gums gnawing at your flesh.
“Do we have a name for him?” Cregan asks you as he comes to take solace beside you, peering down at the tiny babe.
“I’m not quite sure yet,” you reply, your mind still hazy, your heart full, “did you have something in mind?”
“I was thinking… he holds a striking resemblance to your brother. What do you think?”
You glance down at your newborn son. An angelic face matched with tiny wisps of dark hair that threaten to grow into a thick head of curls.
“Oh,” you coo, “yeah… yeah, he does, doesn’t he?”
Cregan smiles widely at you, in a way that makes your heart want to burst right out of your chest.
You and Cregan both held great love for Jacaerys. It was something you bonded over when you were first getting to know one another. After spending so much time with him at the beginning of the dance, Cregan began to care for Jace as if he was a brother of his own.
“So it’s settled then,” he states with pride, “we’ll call him Jacaerys.”
“Jacaerys,” you breathe out in agreement as your husband places as gentle kiss on your forehead.
#cregan stark#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark fluff#cregan stark x you#cregan x you#cregan x targaryen!reader#cregan stark x strong!reader#cregan stark fic#cregan stark oneshot#hotd#house of the dragon#tom taylor#cregan x y/n#cregan imagine#cregan fanfiction#hotd cregan#dad!cregan#dad!cregan stark
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How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?
<3 fem, 1k
“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand.
“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask.
James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?”
“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.”
You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs.
“You know better than I do,” James says.
You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing.
“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus.
“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.”
“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root.
“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle.
“James, I’m tapping out.”
James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.”
“What did you want?” Remus asks you.
“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.”
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.”
James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.”
Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.”
They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids.
“Be gentler,” Remus whispers.
James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?”
“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer.
“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?”
“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask.
James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.”
Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up.
“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”
You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket.
“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.”
The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel.
“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.”
“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward.
“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.”
Commotion from the front seat.
“James–” Remus warns.
“What? I want to watch.”
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly.
“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.”
“James.”
—
requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!
#the marauders#marauders#poly marauders#poly!marauders#poly marauders x reader#poly!marauders x reader#remus lupin x reader#sirius black x reader#james potter x reader#remus lupin fanfiction#sirius black fanfiction#james potter fanfiction#remus lupin fic#sirius black fic#james potter fic#the marauders x reader#the marauders x fem!reader#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 3:58
No amount of hectic schedules, exhausting patrols, rowdy villains, and never-ending legal paperwork could ever keep Bakugou from attending his daughters’ extracurricular activities—because he’d literally go through literal hell and back than to ever see a disheartened pout along with the silent treatment after he gets home from work.
You think he’ll ever miss any of his daughters’ milestones? Fuck no!
Bakugou insists on being at every event, his phone—and even an actual camera during a good day—in hand, his heart swelling with pride and unconditional love that makes his chest figuratively hurt; it might as well be a medical problem at some point.
Because, if anything, Bakugou Katsuki is a father first and a hero second.
“Shit, ‘m late. Have they started yet?”
He’s sweating as if he just used his explosions to propel himself in the air to get to you quicker, but, in truth, he sort of had to just run since the traffic on the highway today would’ve only angered and slowed him down. He left patrol to Halfie, who offered to take his shift, knowing how many times Bakugou covered for him when he was in his son’s piano recital.
“They just started doing warmups,” you answer. “Did you run? You’re drenched to the bone; you’re going to catch a cold if you don’t get changed into some dry clothes.”
“Hah, doubt it.” He snorts, though he does appreciate the thought of you bringing him a spare shirt for just-in-case purposes.
You're always the one who thinks ahead, aren't you? Bakugou knows he’s a very lucky man to have such a doting, caring wife that humbles him whenever he gets too focused on his pride. The balance that he didn’t know he needed!
Ignoring the gawking stares of the other parents—because it’s not everyday you see the Pro Hero Dynamight in mundane activities such as watching his kid take gymnastics’ lessons—he looks through the glass in search of his little princess.
Just as he saw her, his lips curled to that oh-so genuine smile, one that just said, “That’s my daughter, right there! Look at how awesome she is!”
Bakugou remembers how his parents were the same and how they were very supportive of his interests and hobbies, no matter how odd they may be for a five-year-old. How often do you see someone learning to take on both hiking and archery at the age of five? Bakugou was sure he learned most skills during his childhood that made him a firm hero in the field today.
“She has a bit of trouble with tumbling because of her tummy.”
“Yeah? And does that have somethin’ to do with my awesome cooking?” Bakugou replied smugly. “Besides, ‘ts just baby fat, and I’d prefer to see her like this than to see her thin but often sick.”
“Mhm, and she makes up for the cutest ending pose.”
“And her effortless splits. Have the coaches seen her do that?”
You shook your head. “Not yet,” you say, “but I think they’re about to do it—oh! Look, look!”
And he does; his phone’s camera is already recording his youngest daughter doing a perfect vertical split, while the other girls somewhat struggle to maintain a consistent posture.
“She’s a natural, hun.”
“She is,” you chuckle, “just like her Daddy to a certain extent.”
“Damn right, she is.”
Bakugou tries to hold back his laughter when your daughter once again attempts a forward roll with the guidance of the staff. Her tummy somewhat makes it a bit difficult for her to do so. The way she hesitates but then does the forward roll, albeit a little lopsided with a smile that shows her adorable tooth gap—it was safe to say that your daughter was over the moon with her gymnastics lessons.
It’s all too much for him to take.
And when all is over, he greets his daughter by picking her up and blowing raspberries on her neck that have her squealing in laughter before he insists that he’ll be the one to talk to the coaches about the upcoming schedules and the progress your daughter has made.
“Mr. Bakugou, she’s a good listener, and I believe that she’ll be moving onto the next class with the older children in no time,” they told him. “Has she received prior training before this one?”
“She’s also taking ballet lessons,” he answers, “but gymnastics is what she really likes. Ballet was just a compromise since your services weren’t available in our area at that time.”
“That’s wonderful to hear. It’s a joy to have her in class. I’ve already sent Dr. [Last Name] the schedules we offered, and we are looking forward to having your daughter in the upcoming lessons.”
The walk back to your car was light and quiet for a change. Your youngest daughter, Kusami, was out like a light in Bakugou’s arms, having worn herself out with socializing, rolling, doing splits, and whatnot the gymnastics’ instructors told her to do. And Bakugou was just letting the simple moment sink in because this is what he considers the most rewarding part of his day.
Time spent with his family.
Bakugou also warmed up to the thought of having to interact with other parents. He chatted with a single father earlier, whose daughter was the oldest in Kusami’s class. It was nice to converse with equally enthusiastic and supportive parents that you meet through your children's extracurricular activities.
“Let’s go through a drive-through; get Katsumi her usual order,” Bakugou murmurs, remembering how his oldest daughter, Katsumi, would’ve probably woken up from her nap by now and was probably anticipating her family’s return.
“Alright,” you nod. “Katsumi and Kusami have swimming lessons tomorrow at five in the afternoon, too. Do you think you’d get home that early?”
“Of course,” he answers. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugo drabble#mha x reader#mha fluff#mha drabbles#bnha x reader#bnha drabble#bnha fluff#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou#‹𝟹 𓏲🗒️ꜝֶָ֢ ʾʾ
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vanilla coconut !
pairing: sunshine!sunoo x grumpy!reader
genre: one sided enemies to lovers, sunshine x grumpy trope, barista au, christmas au
synopsis: it's winter break and instead of exploring switzerland with your friends, you're unwillingly working in your mom's cafe. to make matters worse, the new hire is a little too clingy and hyper, always adamant on getting you excited for the holiday season, much to your dismay. as you're forced to be around him for more than half of the day, every single day, you learn a thing or two from each other. he smiles for the both of you, whatever you do is enough for him and whatever he does is too much for you. maybe just maybe you could be friends, or perhaps something more?
warnings: kissing, jealousy, flirty!sunoo, family issues, argument, reader is kinda mean, crying,
note: i finally got to write for my biggest crush—sunoo!(I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM) this has a slight hallmark movie vibe because i lovee them. merry christmas!
word count: 10.1k
i love reading your comments and reblogs, so please do so if you liked reading this<3
the plan had been perfect.
switzerland in winter, cozy chalets, the sparkle of snowflakes in the alps, and hot chocolate that was more melted dessert than drink. your friends had already started posting pictures: selfies by frosted windows, snow-covered towns that looked ripped out of postcards, and captions so carefree they stung.
but no. you weren’t in switzerland. you were here, in the cramped kitchen of your mom’s café, drowning in holiday specials and watching other people live out the joy you were supposed to be having.
“do you have to look so miserable?” your mom asked that morning as you trudged downstairs. “you’ll scare away the customers.”
“it’s not my fault i’m stuck here,” you muttered, your words muffled by the scarf you were wrapping around your neck.
your mom sighed but didn’t argue. she didn’t have to. the weight of responsibility—the oldest sibling’s eternal curse—hung heavily between you. when your mom had insisted you stay behind to help with the café’s holiday rush, the conversation hadn’t exactly been open for debate.
“it’s your responsibility,” your mom had said, her voice as unwavering as ever. “you’re the oldest. you understand that, don’t you?”
she’d said it like it was obvious, like it didn’t matter that you’d saved for months or that this was your last winter break before finishing university. your siblings had been conveniently absolved of all obligations, leaving you to pick up the slack.
and now here you were, staring out the café window at holiday shoppers bustling about their merry little lives.
it wasn’t just the lost trip that soured your mood. normally, you liked the holiday season—the warm lights, the scent of cinnamon in the air, the general buzz of joy. but this year, it felt impossible to muster up even a hint of cheer. maybe it was the bitterness of being left behind. or maybe it was the feeling that everyone else got to celebrate while you were stuck doing the thankless work.
whatever it was, you wanted no part of it. no twinkling lights, no jingly music, no forced smiles. if it were up to you, you’d fast-forward straight to january.
suddenly, the bell above the door jingled, snapping you out of your brooding. you straightened up, putting on your polite customer-service face as you prepared to take their order. but the sight that greeted you stopped you cold.
the man standing in the doorway looked like he’d lost a fight with a christmas clearance bin—and lost spectacularly. his coat was a patchwork of red and green, his scarf glittering with snowflake designs, and atop his head sat a ridiculous pom-pom hat that looked like it came straight from santa’s workshop, bouncing with every step.
you squinted at him, wondering how anyone could walk around looking like a walking holiday advertisement and not feel the slightest bit self-conscious. he practically radiated cheer, and you were already bracing yourself for the headache that would inevitably follow when you took his order.
his curious eyes stopped their surveillance once they stopped at you. he lit up and waved at you enthusiastically(his mittens made a soft fwip-fwip sound against the air as he did that, making him look even more adorable ridiculous in your opinion).
“sunoo!” your mom’s delighted voice rang out, cutting through your internal judgment. she emerged from the back, her face lighting up as if he were her long lost son. “you’re early! perfect timing.”
“always early for christmas,” he replied, his voice as bright as his outfit.
you raised an eyebrow, trying to piece together what was happening as your mom motioned for him to come closer.
“sunoo’s going to be helping us out during the holiday rush,” she explained, turning to you with an expectant smile. “isn’t that wonderful?”
wonderful was not the word you would have chosen.
before you could object, sunoo turned his attention to you, his smile widening like he’d just found the best present under the tree.
“hi!” he said, thrusting out a hand. “i’m sunoo. it’s so great to meet you! your mom’s told me all about you.”
“uh.. hi,” you managed, shaking his hand hesitantly.
“she also said you’re going to be showing me the ropes!” he added, his enthusiasm not faltering for even a second.
your mom patted his shoulder approvingly before disappearing back into the kitchen, leaving you alone with who could only be described as christmas incarnate himself.
“where should we start?” sunoo asked, looking around the café with sparkling eyes. “drinks? decorations? oh, wait—do i get an apron?”
you blinked at him, trying to process how someone could have this much energy so early in the day. “uh, yeah. apron’s over there,” you muttered, pointing toward the storage cabinet.
as he darted off to grab one, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling that this holiday season was about to get a lot more...complicated.
the next few days were nothing short of exhausting and it wasn’t because of the café rush.
it was him.
day one with sunoo was a test of patience.
he wasn’t just enthusiastic—he was relentless. he greeted every customer like an old friend, remembered their names and favorite drinks, and even started a suggestion box for “holiday improvements,” which was quickly overflowing with ideas.
on his second day, came the first incident. while you were preparing an espresso, sunoo decided to take matters into his own hands and “spread holiday cheer.” which apparently meant hanging garlands around the counter while you worked.
"could you not?" you finally snapped as a strand of tinsel landed on your shoulder.
"it’s festive!" he countered, grinning as he perched a tiny santa hat on the espresso machine. "doesn’t it make you feel jollier?"
you glared at him. "i’m plenty jolly."
he blinked innocently. "are you sure? because you’ve been frowning for…well, since i got here."
but it wasn’t just the decorations. sunoo had an uncanny ability to be everywhere at once. whether it was bringing you hot cocoa during your break (“it has marshmallows!”) or attempting to teach you his rendition of “jingle bells” while you prepped the next batch of cookies, he was always there.
“smile more!” he said one afternoon as you handed a cappuccino to a customer.
“i am smiling,” you replied through gritted teeth.
“that’s not a smile. that’s...a grimace,” he teased, leaning in with mock seriousness. “here, watch me.”
he turned to the next customer, flashing a grin so radiant it could have melted an iceberg. “welcome! isn’t it just a great day to treat yourself?”
the customer chuckled, clearly charmed. you, on the other hand, wanted to crawl under the counter and hide.
well yes, you begrudgingly had to admit that his presence had improved the café’s working tremendously. the customers loved him. he remembered names, guessed favorite drinks, and made people laugh. tips flowed into the jar like magic. but he was trying to ruin your plan of not appreciating the holiday season! and you were not going to let that happen.
but, by the end of the week, something shifted.
slowly—very slowly—you had started to tolerate him.
it wasn’t that he stopped being annoying. if anything, his energy seemed to double with each passing day. but somewhere between his absurd carol remixes and the way he handed out extra cookies to kids who looked like they’d been dragged to the café against their will, you found yourself less irritated.
not impressed. definitely not charmed(lies!). just...less annoyed.
but one question lingered at the back of your mind: why? why was he so happy? what made him light up like a human christmas tree every day?
you weren’t sure you wanted to know the answer. but as you caught him grinning at a regular customer who’d just handed him a homemade ornament, you couldn’t help but wonder.
the café was quiet as you flipped the sign to "closed" and started tidying up for the night. it had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to finally go home.
just as you locked the register and reached for your coat, the bell above the door jingled. you turned, irritation already bubbling up.
“we’re closed,” you started, but your words faltered when you recognized the man standing there.
“y/n,” your ex-boyfriend said, his smirk as familiar as it was grating. he stepped inside, dressed in a tailored coat that screamed money and arrogance. god, you can’t believe you fell for someone like him as a teenager.
beside him stood a woman teetering on heels that seemed entirely impractical for the icy streets outside. her outfit was bold, to say the least, a mishmash of sequins and faux fur that seemed more suited for a nightclub than a quiet evening in a café.
“oh my gosh,” the girlfriend squealed, twirling a strand of platinum-blonde hair. “babe, is this the little place you were talking about? it’s, like, so...cute!”
your ex casually leaned against the counter you had just wiped, trying to look cool. “i told her about this café. thought we’d stop by, see if you were still here.”
still here? the condescension in his tone made your jaw clench.
“it’s nice to see you��re keeping busy,” he added, his eyes sweeping over you like he was assessing your worth.
you plastered on a polite smile, one you reserved for particularly rude customers. “we’re closed, actually. maybe come back tomorrow.”
“aw, don’t be like that,” he said smoothly, ignoring your words entirely. “i was just telling tiffany here about how we used to hang out all the time. she couldn’t believe it. right, tiff?”
tiffany nodded enthusiastically, chewing gum as she looked around the café. “totally. i mean, you’re, like, so brave for working here. i could never do customer service—ugh, people are just the worst, you know?”
you stared at her, unsure if she was trying to insult you or if she genuinely had no self-awareness.
“i’ve been doing amazing, in case you were wondering. just opened my own tech startup. big investors, huge growth potential. you know how it is—some of us were always meant to do big things.”
he gave you a pointed look, and you felt your jaw tighten.
“and of course, i’ve got tiffany now.” he draped an arm over his girlfriend’s shoulders, and she giggled, resting her manicured hand on his chest.
“uh-huh,” you said, folding your arms. “well, congrats. i need to finish closing, so if you don’t mind—”
“oh, don’t rush us,” tiffany said with a pout. “we’re just, like, so fascinated by this little place. did you decorate it yourself? it’s so quaint!”
before you could respond, the door opened again, and in walked sunoo, bundled up in his bright scarf, carrying a bag of cookies.
“there you are!” he said cheerfully, making a beeline for you. he barely glanced at your ex before sliding an arm around your shoulders, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “sorry i’m late, babe. got caught up picking these up for you.”
your ex straightened, his brows knitting together. “babe?”
sunoo turned to him, his smile wide. “oh, sorry, i didn’t realize you were talking to my girlfriend.”
the word “girlfriend” sent a jolt through you, but sunoo didn’t give you time to react. he extended a hand towards your ex. “i’m sunoo. and you are?”
“her ex-boyfriend,” he replied stiffly, clearly caught off guard.
“oh!” sunoo said, feigning surprise. “well, nice to meet you. guess you’re the one who didn’t see how amazing she is, huh?”
you blinked, your cheeks warming as sunoo turned to tiffany, giving her a polite nod before focusing back on your ex.
“you know, y/n’s been working so hard lately,” sunoo continued, his voice light but deliberate. “between helping out here and pursuing her corporate law degree, she’s just incredible. i mean, it’s not every day you meet someone with brains, ambition, and kindness all rolled into one.”
your ex’s confident smirk faltered, and tiffany’s chewing slowed as she looked at you with newfound confusion.
“she’s studying law?” tiffany asked, wide-eyed.
sunoo nodded, his smile unwavering. “yep. top of her class, too. honestly, i don’t know how she does it. i feel lucky just to be a part of her life.”
your ex opened his mouth, likely to retaliate, but sunoo wasn’t done.
“and she’s so good with people,” sunoo added, looking at you with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. “customers just adore her. i see it every day—her kindness and how much she cares about others. it’s inspiring, really.”
your ex looked like he’d swallowed a lemon, his girlfriend now staring at him with something akin to disappointment.
“and now,” sunoo said, turning back to you, “i think it’s time we head home, don’t you, sweetheart?”
before you could process what was happening, sunoo leaned in and kissed you. it wasn’t a quick peck, nor was it overly dramatic. it was soft, lingering just enough to leave your heart racing and your mind spinning.
when he pulled back, he smiled at you, completely unfazed. “let’s go.”
you nodded, your voice seemingly lost, and allowed him to guide you toward the back.
as soon as you were out of earshot, you whispered, “what the hell was that?”
“that,” he said, grinning, “was me helping you. you’re welcome.”
you wanted to argue, to scold him for his audacity, but instead, all you could do was feel the butterflies in your stomach.
sunoo, ever the cheerful enigma, simply winked at you before heading to the kitchen, leaving you wondering why you couldn’t stop smiling.
the next day at the café began like any other, the morning rush fading into a calm lull as the afternoon light filtered through the frosted windows. you stood behind the counter, idly wiping it down, the hum of soft café music mixing with the faint clinking of dishes being cleaned.
across from you, sunoo was in his usual element, drying a tray of mugs with an ease that felt almost theatrical. he hummed a festive tune under his breath, the kind of annoyingly catchy holiday song you couldn’t escape this time of year. unlike most people, though, he wasn’t out of tune—his voice was smooth, each note light and cheerful.
despite yourself, your eyes drifted toward him. it was hard not to watch the way he worked, his every movement quick yet deliberate. but what caught you the most wasn’t his efficiency—it was his smile.
sunoo had this way of smiling that was entirely his own. it wasn’t just polite or perfunctory; it was warm, genuine, and impossibly bright. whether it was an elderly regular ordering tea or the grumpiest customer throwing a tantrum over a latte, he treated everyone with the same sunny energy, as if he’d been waiting all day just to see them.
you barely noticed your cloth stalling on the counter as your gaze lingered on him. his lips curved up, eyes crinkling at the corners, his entire face lighting up in a way that could rival the café’s twinkling christmas lights.
“earth to y/n!”
his voice jolted you from your thoughts, and your head snapped up to see him standing there, a mug still in one hand, the other waving dramatically in front of your face.
“you’re staring,” he said with a knowing grin, leaning casually against the counter. his apron hung slightly askew, a splash of frothy milk smudged near the edge, but he didn’t seem to care.
“i was not staring,” you shot back, too quickly for your own good. the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed you, though, as you fumbled to sound indifferent. “i was zoning out.”
“sure you were,” he teased, his grin widening into something playful, yet somehow unbearably charming. “let me guess—you were thinking about me, huh?”
before you could even process a retort, sunoo moved. he stepped closer, his easy grin never wavering. instinctively, you leaned back, only for your spine to hit the counter behind you. the realization that you were cornered sent your heart into overdrive.
“w-what are you doing?” you stammered, your eyes darting up to meet his.
he was close now, too close. his arm came up, his hand braced against the counter next to your head, the air around you enveloping you in his mouthwatering scent of vanilla and coconut. his other hand still held the mug, but that didn’t stop your thoughts from spiraling. the way he leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours—it made your breath hitch. for one wild, utterly ridiculous moment, you thought he was about to kiss you(again?).
but then, with a smooth, almost nonchalant motion, he reached past you and grabbed a washcloth from the counter behind your shoulder.
“got it!” he announced cheerfully, pulling back and holding up the cloth like it was a prize.
you blinked, stunned into silence as your brain scrambled to catch up with reality.
sunoo tilted his head, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “what? did you think i was gonna—” he paused, letting the suggestion hang in the air, a devilish smirk tugging at his lips.
“no!” you snapped, your voice cracking as you shoved past him to put space between you. “as if!”
his laugh was light, melodic, and thoroughly maddening as he turned back to the mugs, completely unbothered.
you busied yourself with refilling the napkin dispensers, determined to ignore the way your heart was still racing. yet as much as you wanted to brush the whole thing off, you couldn’t help the small, traitorous smile tugging at your lips. and you hated that somewhere in the back of your mind, you wondered if sunoo had caught it.
later that evening, you found yourself at the door, keys in hand, ready to lock up. the café was quiet, the streets outside eerily calm. the cold had settled in deeper now, a biting wind nipping at your fingers even through your gloves.
as you pulled the door shut and turned the key in the lock, a figure caught your eye. sunoo was leaning casually against the lamppost just outside, his breath visible in small puffs of condensation.
“what are you still doing here?” you asked, wrapping your arms around yourself to stave off the chill.
he straightened, brushing some snow off his coat. “wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
you froze for a moment, caught completely off guard. “you didn’t have to do that,” you said, though your voice was softer than usual, your usual bite missing.
“i know,” he replied with a shrug, his tone light, almost nonchalant. “but i wanted to.”
the words hung in the air between you, heavier than they should have been. his sincerity was disarming, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him. the light from the streetlamp cast a faint golden glow on his face, catching the warmth in his eyes and the faint pink dusting his cheeks from the cold.
your chest tightened, the realization of how kind he was settling in. it wasn’t a grand gesture, but it felt significant. genuine.
you wondered if he could hear the pounding of your heart in the quiet night, loud and insistent as it was.
“thanks,” you mumbled after a beat, unable to meet his gaze for too long.
he smiled at you, soft and easy. “anytime.”
as you both started walking toward your respective homes, you couldn’t help but glance at him out of the corner of your eye. there was something about sunoo that you couldn’t quite put your finger on—a warmth that you hadn’t noticed before but suddenly seemed impossible to ignore.
the nightly walks home had become a routine you hadn’t quite agreed to but couldn’t seem to stop either. sunoo, had decided somewhere along the line that you needed a chaperone to make it home safely through the wintry streets. you’d grumbled about it at first, muttering under your breath about his unnecessary chivalry, but over time, you’d grown to expect the sight of him waiting outside the café after closing.
of course, you hadn’t told him that. no, you preferred to keep up your facade of mild annoyance, pretending not to notice how his presence made the cold nights feel a little less lonely.
sunoo, naturally, was undeterred by your grumpiness. if anything, it seemed to fuel his determination to get you into the holiday spirit. one evening, as he walked beside you, humming yet another cheerful christmas tune, he turned to you with a sudden burst of excitement.
“y/n, i just had the best idea!”
you glanced at him warily, already regretting whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “do i even want to know?”
“yes, you do!” he insisted, his grin as bright as the fairy lights strung across the street. “i’m going to teach you my famous christmas cookie recipe!”
you stopped in your tracks, giving him an incredulous look. “your famous christmas cookie recipe? who exactly considers it famous?”
“everyone who’s ever tasted them,” he replied, puffing out his chest dramatically. “they’re a holiday masterpiece.”
you couldn’t stop the amused huff that escaped you, though you quickly masked it with a roll of your eyes. “and why, exactly, do i need to learn this ‘masterpiece’ recipe?”
“because,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “you need some christmas cheer in your life, and nothing says cheer like baking cookies with me.”
you groaned, already feeling your resolve weakening under his hopeful gaze. “fine,” you muttered, trying to sound begrudging. “but only because i’m curious if they’re actually as good as you claim.”
his cheer was instantaneous. “you won’t regret it!”
the next day, sunoo dragged you to the grocery store and. you trailed behind him, half-heartedly protesting whenever he added something to the cart that wasn’t on the list.
“you’re buying way too much butter,” you pointed out as he tossed another block into the cart.
“you can never have too much butter when it comes to cookies,” he said with a sage nod.
he practically bounced beside you, a walking ball of excitement, clutching a carefully curated shopping list for his "famous" christmas cookies.
“y/n, we need to decide on the chocolate chips,” he said, holding up two bags like they were precious artifacts. “semi-sweet or dark? this is critical.”
you shrugged nonchalantly, feigning disinterest. “it’s your recipe, gordon ramsay. pick whatever.”
he pouted dramatically, clutching his chest. “gordon ramsay? that’s a little harsh. i’m more of a... what’s the name of that really cheerful baker on tv? you know, the one who smiles a lot?”
“sounds like your spirit animal,” you muttered under your breath, though a faint smirk tugged at your lips.
while he deliberated between chocolate options with the intensity of someone defusing a bomb, you wandered off to grab some sugar. as you made your way back toward the cart, a voice called your name.
“y/n? is that really you?”
you turned to find yourself face-to-face with an old high school friend. their warm smile was familiar, even if their fashion choices now had taken a complete 180.
“oh my god, it’s been forever!” they said, pulling you into a quick hug. “how have you been?”
you exchanged pleasantries, updating each other on work and uni life. it was nice, catching up after so long, until their eyes flicked past you.
“wait, who’s that?” they asked, nodding toward sunoo, who was now examining a bottle of vanilla extract like it held the secrets of the universe.
“oh, him?” you said casually, glancing over your shoulder. “that’s just sunoo.”
they raised an eyebrow, their smirk teasing. “just sunoo? he looks like he’s your boyfriend or something.”
“what? no, no,” you said quickly, a little too loudly. “sunoo’s not my boyfriend. god, no. he’s just my coworker. we work at my mom’s café. that’s all.”
your friend gave you a knowing look, the kind that made your cheeks heat. “coworker, huh? he’s got major boyfriend energy. seems sweet.”
“sweet?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. “he’s more like a hyperactive puppy. always smiling, always humming, always doing something. it’s exhausting.”
your friend chuckled, clearly enjoying your exasperation.
“and don’t even get me started on his christmas obsession,” you continued, rolling your eyes for effect. “he’s like a walking hallmark movie. i swear, if he could marry a christmas tree, he’d probably do it and throw a wedding with carolers.”
your friend burst out laughing, egging you on. “does he sing christmas songs all the time too?”
“constantly,” you replied with mock suffering. “if i hear ‘jingle bells’ one more time, i’m going to lose it. it’s like he’s got a jukebox in his head that’s stuck on holiday mode.”
the two of you laughed, exchanging more exaggerated and judgmental quips about sunoo’s overly cheerful demeanor. but then, as your laughter faded, you caught sight of something—or rather, someone—out of the corner of your eye.
sunoo was standing there, a bag of flour in one arm and a bottle of vanilla extract in the other. his bright smile, the one you’d always teased him for, was gone. in its place was an expression you’d never seen on him before—hurt, raw and unguarded.
“sunoo,” you started, your voice weak and unsure.
he blinked, his eyes darting between you and your friend, as though piecing together everything he’d just overheard. then, without a word, he turned on his heel and walked away, his steps brisk and unsteady.
“wait, sunoo—” you took a step toward him, but he didn’t stop, his figure disappearing around the corner.
your friend shifted awkwardly beside you. “uh... i think i’ll let you handle that. good luck.” they offered an apologetic smile before retreating, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.
the guilt hit you like a freight train. you replayed every word you’d said, each one now twisting like a knife. you hadn’t meant to be cruel, not really, but hearing it all in retrospect made you wince.
you stood there in the middle of the aisle, the festive chaos of the store blurring around you, and all you could think about was the devastated look on sunoo’s face. for someone who always wore his heart on his sleeve, you’d just managed to break it without even trying.
and now, you had no idea how to fix it.
the café felt colder than usual, and it had nothing to do with the weather. sunoo, the walking ray of sunshine who once filled every corner with warmth and holiday cheer, had dimmed entirely. it started the day after the grocery store incident. he no longer greeted you with his annoyingly bright smile or playfully nudged you when you were grumbling about the customers. instead, he was polite—frigidly so.
“good morning,” you said tentatively as you walked in for your shift.
“morning,” he replied without looking up from the espresso machine, his tone flat.
no teasing. no humming. not even a sarcastic remark about you being late again. just a curt acknowledgment, followed by silence.
you couldn’t deny it—it stung. you thought back to the way he used to coax reluctant smiles from customers, how he would hum festive tunes so loudly you’d complain, and how his energy made the café feel like a holiday movie set. now, he did his job mechanically, avoiding unnecessary conversation with you and barely engaging with anyone else.
the decorations he had painstakingly hung felt like they belonged to a different world. they no longer carried the magic they once did.
at first, you told yourself this was what you wanted—a quiet, sunoo-free workspace where you could brood in peace. but it wasn’t peace you felt. it was guilt. crushing, suffocating guilt.
even though sunoo seemed hellbent on giving you the cold shoulder, he still made sure you reached home safely. your evening walks were not the same anymore, with him trailing a few metres behind you instead of him usually sticking right to your side. you couldn’t help but feel even worse. even after you had been inconsiderate about his feelings, he still cared.
one day, during a rare lull, you approached him, the desire to fix things clawing at your chest. you were generally awkward with apologies but you had to try your best. he was wiping down the counter with that same forced nonchalance, eyes focused on the towel, not sparing you even a glance.
“sunoo,” you started, your voice small, breaking the silence between you. “i… i wanted to say sorry about what happened. i didn’t mean—”
“it’s fine,” he interrupted, finally looking up with an expression that was almost unreadable. “don’t worry about it.”
but you could tell it wasn’t fine. it wasn’t fine at all. the tension in his jaw, the lack of the usual warmth in his eyes—it was all proof that you had hurt him more than you realised.
that afternoon, a customer—a girl around your age—came in and ordered a latte. she was attractive, dressed in trendy winter clothes, her hair a perfect cascade of curls despite the weather. you barely registered her order, too preoccupied with the way sunoo’s demeanor had shifted as soon as she walked up. he leaned over the counter with a smile that was just a touch more dazzling than usual, his eyes bright with that cheerful, carefree light you hadn’t seen in days.
“oh, you’re so good at making latte art!” she said with a little laugh, eyes wide as she watched him.
sunoo chuckled, a sound that came so easily, so naturally, it made something sour twist in your stomach. “thanks. i’ve had a lot of practice. what’s your favorite design?”
“oh, anything cute! maybe a heart?”
you clenched your jaw. the way he laughed, the way he looked at her, it was like the last few days had never happened. he was back to being the sunoo who had brightened every corner of the café, the same sunoo you’d ignored and pushed away. a storm of irritation and something deeper bubbled inside you.
you couldn’t help yourself. marching over, you interrupted their conversation, “sunoo, the tables need wiping. i’ll finish this order,” you said, your voice sharper than intended.
he looked at you, his smile fading as quickly as it had come. for a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he stepped back and handed you the steaming cup. “sure,” he said quietly, walking away without another word.
the customer looked at you, slightly startled, but you avoided her gaze, focusing on finishing the latte art. your hand trembled slightly as you poured the milk, frustrated at yourself for the way your emotions had spiraled out of control.
this wasn’t like you. you weren’t the type to get jealous, especially not over someone like sunoo, who you’d spent weeks convincing yourself was nothing more than a coworker.
the silence that followed felt deafening, and the rest of the shift passed in a haze. every time you looked at him, he looked away. every time you spoke to him, he responded with clipped, polite words, his voice void of warmth. he was now a shadow of the sunoo you had known, and it was your fault.
and the worst part? you missed it. you missed him.
every day, the weight of your guilt grew heavier, and with it, the realization that you hadn’t just been cruel—you’d hurt someone who had only ever tried to brighten your world.
you wanted to fix things, but you didn’t know how. every attempt to reach out was met with silence, and every smile he gave someone else felt like another nail in the coffin of what you had ruined.
the festive tunes in the café continued to play, but now, they felt hollow, much like the ache in your chest.
that night, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the ache of regret clawing at your chest. the guilt was like an icy chain around your ribs, squeezing tighter with every passing minute. you could still picture the smile he had given the girl, so carefree, so genuine, and the way he had walked away from you, a hint of defeat in his posture.
the next day, he was back to avoiding you, treating you like a stranger he’d once known. you watched, helpless, as he poured that same energy into talking to customers, chatting with people as if he hadn’t lost himself in the process. it hurt more than you thought it could.
the coldness extended past the café. sunoo’s laughter seemed to be reserved for everyone but you, and you watched as the cheerful light he carried dimmed even further. it made you wonder if you had lost something you didn’t even know you wanted.
the day had been relentless. the café buzzed from the early hours with orders flying in and customers bustling through, each interaction adding another layer to your growing frustration. by mid-afternoon, you were running on fumes, barely holding it together as the weight of responsibility pressed down on you.
it wasn’t just today. it had been like this for weeks. ever since your mom insisted you stay back during winter break to help with the café, it felt like you’d been drowning in expectations. and somehow, the family seemed perfectly content to let you struggle.
you caught sight of your younger siblings in the corner booth, lounging with their phones in hand, sharing quiet laughs. the image stung. while you juggled orders, cleaned counters, and played the perfect hostess, they enjoyed carefree moments, untouched by the demands that seemed to fall squarely on your shoulders.
by the time you escaped to the back room, your patience was hanging by a thread. you slammed a tray of used mugs onto the counter harder than you meant to, and the sharp clang echoed in the small space.
“do you have to make such a racket?” your mom’s voice came from behind you. she stepped into the room, her hands busy with a clipboard, completely unfazed by your obvious distress.
your control snapped. “maybe if someone else around here actually helped me, i wouldn’t have to,” you retorted, spinning around to face her.
she paused, her eyes narrowing. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means i’m exhausted, mom,” you shot back, the words tumbling out in a rush. “i’m doing everything—running the counter, cleaning up, dealing with customers—and for what? so everyone else can just sit back and relax?”
“don’t be dramatic,” she said, her tone clipped. “i’ve been working just as much as you.”
you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “are you serious right now? i haven’t seen you take a single order all day. and don’t even get me started on them,” you gestured toward the café, where your siblings were still parked, oblivious to the world around them. “they get to sit around doing nothing while i’m running myself into the ground.”
“they’re younger,” your mom said flatly. “you’re the oldest. you should know better by now.”
the words cut deep, sharper than you expected. “so what? that means i don’t get to have a life? i don’t get to enjoy a break like everyone else?” your voice wavered, anger and hurt intertwining. “you expect me to just give and give, and no one cares about what i need.”
“stop being so ungrateful and selfish all the time,” she snapped, her eyes hardening. “this is your family. you do what’s necessary.”
her words hit like a physical blow, and you staggered back a step, the air knocked out of you. selfish? after everything you’d done?
she didn’t wait for a response, brushing past you and leaving the room without a backward glance.
the silence that followed was suffocating. you stood frozen, your chest heaving as the tears burned behind your eyes. you tried to fight them, but the weight of her words, of everything, was too much.
your legs gave out, and you sank to the cold floor, pulling your knees to your chest as the first sob broke free. it came in waves, uncontrollable and raw, until you buried your face in your arms, muffling the sound.
you weren’t sure how long you stayed like that. time seemed to blur, your thoughts spiraling in the same vicious cycle of frustration and hurt. the ache in your chest felt unbearable, like a storm raging inside with no signs of clearing.
then, faintly, you heard footsteps. they stopped near you, hesitating, before a familiar voice called softly, “y/n?”
you didn’t look up. you couldn’t. but then you felt it—a warm, steady hand on your shoulder, grounding you in a way you didn’t realize you needed.
when you finally lifted your head, your tear-filled eyes met sunoo’s. his usual brightness was dimmed, replaced with an expression so soft and concerned that it made your chest tighten all over again.
he didn’t say anything at first, just crouched down beside you. then, without a word, he pulled you into his arms. the action was gentle, almost hesitant, but as soon as you felt the warmth of his embrace, you broke all over again.
your fingers clutched at the fabric of his shirt, desperate for something solid as the tears came harder. “i’m so tired,” you whispered against his chest, your voice cracking.
“i know,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “i know.”
his hand moved to your back, rubbing slow circles that seemed to ease the ache just a little. he smelled his signature scent of vanilla and coconut, a scent so comforting it made you lean into him further, seeking out the solace he offered.
sunoo didn’t let go. not when your tears soaked into his shirt, not when your breath hitched as you tried to form words between sobs. he stayed there, holding you, his warmth anchoring you in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.
eventually, the tears slowed, leaving you shuddering against him. he didn’t rush you or ask questions, just kept his hand moving in those soothing circles on your back, his presence steady and unwavering. it was only when your breathing evened out that he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.
“do you want to talk about it?”
for a moment, you hesitated. but then, the weight of everything—the years of bottled-up frustration, resentment, and heartache—came spilling out.
“it’s just… it’s so much,” you began, your voice hoarse from crying. “being the oldest, it’s like… it’s like my life stopped being mine the moment dad left.”
sunoo’s hand stilled for a second, then resumed its comforting rhythm, encouraging you to continue.
you sniffled, swiping at your damp cheeks. “he just—he ran off with some rich woman when i was sixteen, like we didn’t matter to him at all. mom was devastated, and suddenly, it felt like i had to grow up overnight. taking care of my siblings, helping with the café, picking up the pieces he left behind…” your voice cracked, and you bit your lip, trying to hold it together.
“and now it’s like nothing’s changed,” you went on, your words tumbling out faster. “mom still leans on me for everything. the café, the house, the family—it’s always me. i can’t even remember the last time i did something just for myself.”
sunoo didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to fill the silence with empty reassurances. he just listened, his gaze fixed on you with such unwavering focus that it made your chest ache in a different way.
“and today—today was just the last straw,” you admitted, wiping at your nose with the back of your hand. “i feel like i’m suffocating, sunoo. like no matter how much i give, it’s never enough. and it’s so… so lonely.”
you looked away, ashamed of your outburst, but his arms tightened around you. “you’re not alone,” he said softly, his voice steady. “not anymore.”
that simple promise unraveled something inside you, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out, “and i’m sorry. for everything. for being so mean to you, for judging you when i didn’t even know you, for acting like a total brat.”
sunoo blinked, his expression softening even further, but you didn’t let him speak yet. “i know i’ve been awful,” you continued, your words spilling over each other in a frantic rush. “and you’ve been nothing but kind, and here i am, all snotty and messy and—”
“y/n,” he interrupted gently, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
“and i probably look terrible right now,” you rambled on, ignoring his soft chuckle. “like, who wants to deal with this?” you gestured vaguely to your tear-streaked face and disheveled appearance.
“y/n,” he said again, a little firmer this time, his hand brushing against your cheek.
you froze, finally meeting his eyes. they were impossibly warm, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but that made your breath catch all the same.
“you’re perfect,” he said simply, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.
and then, before you could process his words, he leaned in and kissed you.
it was soft at first, hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. but when you didn’t—when you found yourself leaning into him instead—it deepened, his lips moving against yours with a warmth that chased away every lingering shadow of doubt and hurt.
you melted into him, your hands clutching the front of his shirt as if he were the only solid thing in a world that had felt so unsteady. the kiss was everything you didn’t know you needed—comforting, electrifying, and completely disarming all at once.
when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested lightly against yours, his breath mingling with your own in the quiet of the room.
“i’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admitted, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
you stared at him, still dazed, your fingers brushing your lips as if trying to hold onto the feeling. “you… you kissed me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“i did,” he said, his smile growing. “and if i had known it would shut you up, i might’ve done it sooner.”
a laugh bubbled up in your chest despite yourself, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the heaviness inside you lifted.
“i don’t think i deserve you, sunoo,” you said softly, your gaze dropping to the floor.
he tilted your chin up gently, his expression earnest. “then it’s a good thing i get to decide that, isn’t it?”
and just like that, with sunoo’s arms still wrapped around you and the lingering warmth of his kiss, it felt like everything had finally fallen into place.
the next morning, you found yourself standing outside the café, shivering in the early chill. snow blanketed the ground, sparkling under the soft glow of the streetlights. the café wasn’t open yet, and you were earlier than usual, clutching a small box in your hands. the carefully wrapped gift felt heavier than it should, the weight of nerves pressing down on you.
inside the box was a collection of little things that reminded you of sunoo: a cheerful snowman mug, a candle that smelled like warm sugar cookies, and a pair of bright green fuzzy mittens. they weren’t much, but they were chosen with care—a way to apologise properly, to show him you understood now just how much he meant to you.
the quiet street stretched around you, peaceful but lonely. you rocked back and forth on your heels, trying to shake off the morning cold and the knot of anxiety twisting in your stomach. what if he didn’t accept the gift? what if he was still upset?
before you could spiral further, you heard footsteps crunching in the snow. turning, you saw him walking toward you, his breath visible in the frosty air. he wasn’t wearing his usual bright smile, but the sight of him was enough to make your chest ache.
“y/n?” he called out, stopping a few steps away. “what are you doing here so early?”
“i, uh…” you hesitated, holding the box tighter. “i wanted to see you.”
his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. “really?”
wordlessly, you held the gift out to him, your breath hitching as he stared at it. slowly, he reached out and took it, his fingers brushing yours.
“what’s this?” he asked, his tone soft.
“an apology,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “for everything. for being mean to you, for not appreciating you sooner, for—just open it.”
sunoo glanced at you, then down at the box. he tugged the ribbon loose and carefully peeled back the paper, his movements deliberate. when he saw the contents, his expression shifted, his eyes widening as a genuine smile began to spread across his face.
“you got me mittens?” he exclaimed, holding them up like they were a treasure. “and this mug—it’s so cute! and a candle?” he brought it to his nose and sniffed, his grin widening even more. “it smells amazing!”
the brightness in his reaction melted the last of your nerves, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.
“i thought they’d suit you,” you said quietly, feeling a little silly now but also oddly proud.
“suit me?” he repeated, his tone playful. “y/n, this is the most thoughtful gift anyone’s given me in a long time.”
before you could react, he closed the distance between you in one swift motion.
“wait—sunoo!”
but he didn’t wait. he scooped you up effortlessly, spinning you around in the snow. the world blurred for a moment, the sound of your surprised laugh ringing out as he twirled you like you weighed nothing at all.
“put me down!” you cried, though your laughter betrayed any real protest.
“not until you promise you’ll stop being so hard on yourself,” he said, his voice full of warmth and mischief.
“okay, okay! i promise!”
he set you down at last, but your balance wavered, and the two of you tumbled into the snow together, a heap of giggles and cold breaths.
“you’re impossible,” you muttered, brushing snow off your coat.
“impossible to stay mad at, right?” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow beside you. his grin was as dazzling as ever, and it was contagious.
you rolled your eyes, but your heart felt lighter than it had in days. “yeah, yeah. don’t let it go to your head, sunoo.”
“too late,” he quipped, tossing a handful of snow at you.
what followed was an impromptu snowball fight that left both of you breathless, your cheeks pink from the cold and the laughter. by the time the café was ready to open, you’d built a lopsided snowman and shared stories over hot cocoa.
as you sat across from him, watching the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, you realized something else had thawed—your carefully guarded heart. sunoo had done more than bring holiday cheer into your life; he’d brought a warmth you hadn’t known you were missing.
over the next few days, things between you and sunoo took on a rhythm you hadn’t expected. there was no big moment when it all changed, no grand confessions. it just sort of happened. in the middle of the busy café, amidst the noise of espresso machines and the chatter of customers, the two of you found your own little world, filled with unspoken understanding and a quiet kind of comfort.
despite your shy nature, sunoo was anything but reserved. he was touchy, cuddly, and so unapologetically confident in his affection that it left you flustered at least twice an hour.
one morning, you were at the counter, meticulously preparing an intricate coffee order for a regular. concentrating on the froth, you didn’t even hear him approach.
suddenly, his arms slipped around your waist, pulling you into his chest. the warmth of his body against your back startled you, and you nearly dropped the milk frother.
“good morning to you, too,” he murmured softly near your ear, his voice low and teasing.
“sunoo,” you hissed, your cheeks burning as you glanced around the café. thankfully, it was mostly empty, save for the regular who seemed too engrossed in their phone to notice. “what are you doing?”
“giving my girlfriend some love,” he said matter-of-factly, resting his chin on your shoulder. his hold on you was secure but gentle, and you couldn’t ignore how solid he felt.
your brain scrambled as you became hyper-aware of every point of contact—the way his hands fit around your waist, the way his sweater couldn’t completely hide the firmness of his chest and arms.
you tried to maintain your composure, focusing on pouring the steamed milk into the cup. “you’re distracting me,” you mumbled, your voice shakier than you’d intended.
“oh?” his tone was pure mischief now, and you could practically hear the grin on his face. “didn’t know i had that kind of effect on you, y/n.”
“stop,” you groaned, half-horrified and half-flustered, trying to wriggle free from his hold.
but he just tightened his arms slightly, chuckling. “not a chance. you’re cute when you’re flustered.”
your heart pounded in your chest as you finished the order, sunoo still clinging to you like a human koala. when you finally handed the coffee to the customer, you turned to him with an exasperated glare.
“happy now?” you said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.
“very,” he replied, his bright smile disarming you completely.
moments like these became a regular occurrence. sunoo had no concept of personal space, especially when it came to you, and he seemed to revel in how easily he could fluster you. whether it was sneaking up behind you to steal a kiss on your cheek while you were stocking shelves, lacing your fingers together under the table during your lunch break, or leaning in close just to whisper something playful and teasing—he was unabashedly, wholeheartedly himself.
at first, you didn’t know how to handle it. the warmth of his attention made you feel vulnerable, exposed in a way you hadn’t expected. but it also made you feel… cherished, like you were the only person in his world.
one afternoon, you were wiping down tables when he plopped down in a chair nearby, resting his chin in his hands as he watched you.
“what are you staring at now?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder.
“my beautiful girlfriend,” he said with a grin so sincere it made your chest ache.
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “you’re impossible.”
“and yet, you’re still with me.”
despite your best efforts to stay composed, sunoo always managed to draw out the softer, shyer side of you. and though it terrified you to be so open, so seen, it also filled you with a kind of warmth you’d never known before—like stepping into the sunlight after a long winter.
the warm light of sunoo’s home bathed the living room in a soft glow, creating a sense of comfort that seemed almost too perfect. the scent of cinnamon and roasted vegetables filled the air, mingling with the gentle hum of christmas carols playing in the background. laughter and the sound of clinking glasses bubbled up around you, and it was hard to believe you were even there, in this place that felt so full of warmth and life.
sunoo had invited you and your mother to an early christmas dinner at his house a few days ago. you had come alone, expecting your mom to stay home after the fight you’d had earlier that week. she’d been sharp with her words, and you’d spent the past few days wrapped in the solitude of your thoughts, wondering if things would ever be the same between you two. but now, as you glanced around at the smiling faces, the feel of this home settled into your chest in a way that was almost foreign, yet achingly familiar.
sunoo’s family, full of kindness and easygoing laughter, was everything that you’d never had. being the youngest child had given sunoo a softness that showed in everything he did—the way he laughed too loudly, the way he clapped his hands when he was excited, the way he instinctively reached for your hand when he wanted to share a joke. it was clear that love had been poured into him without question, without the burden of responsibility or guilt.
the warmth of that realisation grew inside you as dinner was served. sunoo’s father sat at the head of the table, telling stories that made everyone chuckle, while his mother bustled around, her hands full of serving spoons and platters. the room was a symphony of family, love, and shared history. it made you long for that kind of life, for that kind of belonging.
just as you were helping pass a dish of mashed potatoes, the doorbell chimed. sunoo, who had been sitting next to you, turned to look at you with a smile. “can you get that, y/n?”
you nodded, a little confused, and stood up, making your way to the front door. when you opened it, your eyes widened in surprise. there, standing in the cool night air with a basket of homemade goodies balanced in her arms, was your mom.
“mom?” you said, voice catching. she looked as surprised to see you as you were to see her, eyes wide and a little uncertain. but then she took a deep breath, stepping into the house with an air of resolve.
“hello, y/n,” she said, offering a soft smile that reached her eyes. she turned to the room beyond, where sunoo’s family was looking at her with curiosity. “merry christmas, everyone,” she said warmly, her voice more steady than you’d expected.
sunoo’s mother, surprised at the unexpected guest, beamed as she ushered her in. “merry christmas! we’re so glad you came.”
you stood there, feeling a flutter of hope. your mom walked past you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as if to say, can we talk? you nodded, your heart pounding as she led you away from the bustling room.
she took you to a corner by the window, where the soft light from outside fell on both of you, mingling with the glow of the christmas tree. for a moment, neither of you spoke. you heard the sounds of laughter in the other room—the clinking of glasses, sunoo’s voice as he said something that made everyone laugh.
finally, your mom broke the silence. “y/n, i’ve been thinking a lot about us, and how i’ve let you down. when your dad left, i was lost, and i leaned on you for strength when you were just a kid yourself. i didn’t see how it affected you; i only saw my own pain. i’m so sorry for making you feel like you had to carry everything alone.”
her voice cracked, and she reached out, pulling you into a hug. you let yourself melt into her embrace, the weight of years of resentment and unspoken words finally falling away. a tear escaped, then another, as you let yourself feel everything you hadn’t allowed yourself to before—the hurt, the longing, and the relief.
“i’m sorry too, mom,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “i didn’t know how to say it, but i needed you to know i was scared. i was so scared of turning out like… like everything i didn’t want.”
she pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glistening. “you’re not like that, y/n. you’re everything i could have hoped for, and more. i love you.”
“i love you too,” you said, your voice finally steady, the words feeling right and true. the basket of treats she’d brought had slipped from her grasp, forgotten as you both shared this moment that seemed to heal everything at once.
there was a noise from behind you—a soft cough. sunoo stood at the end of the hallway, a warm smile on his face. his eyes met yours and then shifted to your mom, who was still holding you close.
“everything okay?” he asked, voice soft.
you nodded, a tiny smile breaking through your tears. “yeah, everything’s perfect.”
sunoo stepped forward, pulling you into a hug that felt like the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. it felt like everything was right, and the past had been forgiven, making way for something better.
as the sound of laughter swelled behind you, you knew that this was a new beginning. and in that moment, you felt loved, not just by sunoo but by the family you had always dreamed of, and by the one that was learning to be there for you, piece by piece.
BONUS SCENE!
it’s christmas morning, and for once, the café is closed. you wake up to a rare, quiet morning, the kind that feels like it could stretch on forever. snow blankets the world outside, muffling every sound and adding a serene glow to the sky.
just as you’re about to head downstairs, you hear the faint sound of shuffling outside your front door. curiosity piqued, you open it to find a very familiar figure standing there, bundled up in a bright scarf and holding a giant thermos. sunoo grins up at you, cheeks pink from the cold, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
“merry christmas!” he chirps, holding up the thermos.
you stare at him, confused but already smiling. “sunoo, what are you doing here? shouldn’t you be with your family?”
he shrugs, his grin never faltering. “already had breakfast with them. besides, i wanted to see you.”
your heart does a little flip at his words, and before you can respond, he’s nudging past you, making his way into the living room like he’s lived here his whole life.
“wait,” you say, following him. “what’s in the thermos?”
“patience,” he says, wagging a finger at you. he sets the thermos down on the coffee table, pulling out two mugs he somehow managed to balance in his coat pocket. “sit.”
you reluctantly sink into the couch, watching as he pours steaming hot chocolate into both mugs. he even pulls out a tiny bag of marshmallows, which makes you laugh. “you’re ridiculous,” you mutter.
“and you love it,” he retorts, passing you a mug before plopping down next to you, so close that your knees bump.
the two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, sipping the hot chocolate as the snow falls outside. you catch yourself stealing glances at him—at the way his lashes frame his eyes, the way his nose scrunches up when he takes a particularly hot sip.
as you’re lost in thought, sunoo suddenly turns to you, catching you mid-stare. “what?” he asks, his tone playful but soft.
“nothing,” you say quickly, your cheeks warming.
he leans closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “were you admiring me?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you say, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.
sunoo laughs, setting his mug down before reaching out to tug the edge of the blanket draped over your shoulders. “come here,” he says, pulling you closer until you’re tucked against his side.
“you’re so bossy,” you mumble, but you don’t resist, letting your head rest on his shoulder.
“only for you,” he replies, pressing a light kiss to your hair.
you look up at him, something warm and fluttery building in your chest. his gaze drops to your lips for just a second, and your breath catches. before you can overthink it, sunoo leans in, brushing his lips against yours in a kiss so sweet and gentle it feels like a snowflake melting on your skin.
when he pulls back, his eyes search yours, a soft smile spreading across his face. “merry christmas, y/n,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
“merry christmas,” you reply, your voice shaky but your heart steady.
he grins and presses his forehead to yours, his fingers playing with the hem of the blanket. “so, do i get a thank you for the hot chocolate and the kiss, or…?”
you laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “don’t push your luck.”
but when he leans back and pulls you closer, you know you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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i’m dumb (she’s a lesbian)
ft. jimmy x fem!reader
tags. homophobia, non-con/rape, jimmy forces himself on a lesbian, homophobic slurs, forced orgasm, facial, death threats, choking, misogyny
note. um #yeah don’t like don’t read. rbs and feedback always appreciated :3 ignore any mistakes this is unedited, gets very disjointed..
Jimmy sees you from across the bar. You have this cute little girl pout and these bouncy tits that really have some life to them. Your stuck-up friend is already all over Curly, raking her acrylic claws down his chest while he buys her a fruity drink.
He doesn’t even get the chance to open his mouth before you’re covering your drink, mouth a thin red line as you tell him—“I’m a lesbian.”
Beside him, your friend is giggling obnoxiously at something unfunny Curly has said. He’s got this pretty young thing rubbing up on him, pressing her perky tits against his and it’s so not fair that he gets stuck with the dyke.
”Didn’t ask.” Jimmy’s lip curls up in distaste like he wasn’t just wondering about whether your pussy was shaved or not. After that revelation, he’s guessing you let it get a little wild. Feminism and lesbianism and bush and all that. They go hand in hand. “You sure as hell don’t look like one.” He can never help himself, he can’t leave it at that.
“Excuse me?” You scoff, standing a little straighter, the anger that flares up inside of you has taken you off guard. The hand once firmly placed over your cocktail is in a tight fist by your side.
Jimmy shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ you don’t look like one.” He leers at you, your shapely thighs and heart-shaped ass. “You sure about it?”
“Yes I am.”
He takes you in. Perfect down to your manicured, painted toes. You’ve got this look about you, a certain softness that comes with never having to work for what you want. “How’d you know?” He taunts, tilting his head in challenge. “You slept with a guy before?”
“I don’t need to sleep with a guy to know.” You take a step back, raising a dainty paw in the air to keep him at arms length - those rings could double as knuckle dusters, well-tended to cuticles, nails filed into perfect chromatic black points, the polish shining like the shells on brilliant, exotic beetles.
He doesn’t buy it. You’re young, stupid, and confused.
“Yeah? You want a sticker for that?” It’s okay, really, happens to the best people. Confusion does. Jimmy caught a glimpse of Curly’s dick at a sleepover once and he was confused for a week or so. He passed it off as jealousy. That thing was a monster. There’s no way Jimmy wanted it up his ass. He doesn’t want anything up his ass, and you just need to be broken in.
You knock back your drink - the one he considered spiking, one hand in his pocket messing with a baggie - signalling to your friend that you’re stepping outside for a smoke. Instead of taking it as a cue to back off, Jimmy follows, slinking behind you like bad news. A fox in the bushes, nifty and deliberate like he’s ready to pounce, but happy to stalk you from afar.
“Leave me alone.” You raise your voice, hoping to catch the attention of anyone as he trails you, heavy footfall matching the click-clack of your pristine heels.
“I just want to talk,” Jimmy drawls, humoured by your clumsy urgency, a hand striking out to clamp down on your wrist. You’re fever-hot, a flame he’d happily let burn him alive. He’s a moth, wings scorched for one fleeting moment in your light.
Worth it.
“About what?!”
“Come on,” Jimmy sighs like he’s hurt, “about us.”
“There is no us, I don’t know you!” You’re so fun to rile up. So young and fiery and easy. “I know it must be hard for you to find a girl that wants to put up with…” With your free hand, you gesture abstractly to him, the wear and tear of his aging face, dirty jeans, scuffed boots, the scruff. “With this… But I am a lesbian, okay? I like girls, I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t even want to be near you.”
To be entirely frank, it doesn’t matter if you’re a lesbian or a doctor or a cleaner or a nurse or a lawyer, you could be the goddamn president and Jimmy wouldn’t give a fuck. You’re a girl, and even prissy little dykes have wet little pussies between their thighs.
So, he backs you up against a brick wall, blocking your view of the street, of the drunk bar-goers walking by, the cars zooming past. One of Jimmy’s cold hands moves fast up your thigh and under your dress, trapping itself in your cotton undies. “I don’t care,” he tells you honestly, sneering down at you while he cups your warm cunt.
It’s freshly shaved. A lesbian that shaves, alright. Sure. Whatever floats your boat.
“Aw.” Jimmy gives you a falsely cordial smile as you writhe, mouth open in silent terror as you try to comprehend what’s happening. “Look at that.” He runs his finger along the seam of your cunt, the razor bumps. “You thought you were gonna get laid, that’s so cute.” And you will. By him. Your efforts won’t go to waste. A dick is a man’s best friend, and soon it’ll be yours too.
He squeezes your mound and you yelp, squirming in his grasp. You smell like cinnamon and lotion and incense and expensive, girly things that make him slightly ill. “I’ve got a gun,” says Jimmy, who does not have a gun. His unspoken threat has your body going ramrod straight, fear glazing over your eyes. “Good girl,” he hums, taking his hand out of your panties, wiping it on his jeans.
You don’t have the chance to run, not when his arm is around your shoulders, not when you probably think he has a gun, and especially not in those heels. “I don’t want to—I don’t want to go with you.”
“God.” Jimmy rolls his eyes. “I told you I don’t care.” Kicking up a fuss in the middle of the street, you're a difficult one. It’s okay though, he likes fighters. He likes to watch them kick and scream. It gets so boring when they start to like it.
“Help me!” You wave your arm wildly at a group of three who he’d spotted inside the bar earlier, they’re arm in arm, two guys and a pretty girl. She’s the first one to say anything, breaking away from her friends to ask if you’re okay. Ugh. He hates it.
“Babe,” Jimmy says, putting on his patient, slightly stressed boyfriend voice, “we need to get you home, come on.”
“He’s taking me! He tried to—“
“Babe,” he cuts in smoothly, a hand low on your back, rubbing circles into your skin, “I’m sorry about her, total lightweight, I should put her on a leash.”
“No worries, man.” The taller guy says, his cheeks are red from drinking. “This one gets like that too.” He laughs and pats the girls head. She’s hesitant to go even when he takes her arm.
“Are you sure—“
“Yes.” Jimmy nods.
“No! Oh my god—No, please don’t go!” Your eyes dart around for anyone else as they become mere dots in your vision, an escape route that doesn’t exist while Jimmy very happily drags you back to his car.
“I told you I had a gun,” he says very casually, like he’s reading a news report off of a teleprompter, loading you into the car like a fancy piece of luggage, “what if I used it?”
“I don’t believe you.” You cross your arms, trembling, fidgeting, and sniffling. Trying to come to terms with it all. “I can’t believe any of this, oh my god, you’re, like, kidnapping me you sicko!”
“I don’t want to keep you,” Jimmy clarifies. You’re already a handful, what could he possibly want from you that extends past your virgin pussy?
“So what do you want from me?” You ask, frowning down at your lap and dabbing away at the tears in your eyes.
“I’m just gonna show you a good time,” he reassures, patting your thigh, undeterred by the sharp slap you give his naughty hand, “no need to worry.”
For what might be the first time in your life, or at least Jimmy assumes, you fall completely quiet, watching the road with big, doleful eyes.
“Listen,” Jimmy sighs, “I just want to help you out, I don’t think it’s wrong or anything, uh, lesbians.“ Dykes, he wanted to say. “I just think you should try it out, a real dick, you ever put anything inside you?” He takes your silence as a no. “I guess not, huh? I’ve watched the videos—“ Religiously he watches them. Girls squeezing their tits together, spreading their holes for the camera before they lick into each other’s cunts, sloppy pussies slotting against one another, clits bumping. “—Just feels like something’s missing, something, uh, something real, it’s not sex if there’s no dick, if nothing goes inside.” He glances over at you. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“Are you done?” Your voice breaks.
“Uh, not really, but sure.” He wasn’t sure where he was going with that anyways. Maybe that dildos don’t count as dicks.
”You’re going to rape me.” You whimper like you haven’t known his intentions this entire time.
Bingo.
“Yeah.” Jimmy shrugs. “I guess I am.”
Your shoulders begin to shake, chest heaving as you try to control the jagged breaths that cut into you, hands covering your face as you sob.
He sighs, already exhausted by the dramatics. “And then I’m going to kill you,” he says dryly.
You sob louder, tossing your head back to really open your airways up, get as loud as possible.
“Alright, alright, I’m kidding,” Jimmy murmurs, rough palm smoothing over your inner thigh. “I’m not going to kill you.”
Jimmy’s bed creaks with the deadweight of your body, it’s halfway busted, he found the mattress at a garage sale. Stained, noisy, but otherwise okay. He gets on top of you, hair hanging over your face like he’s isolating you from the rest of the world, there’s no way out of this.
You haven’t stopped crying. Snivelling, pouting, hiccuping like a child. Desperate sobs dying out in the face of his indifference. “Let me go,” you beg, “please don’t do this to me—“
God. That gets old fast.
He pays you no mind, used to tuning it out, both your wrists in his hand as he slides your panties down your kicking legs, dress scrunched up around your waist like a belt. Your pussy is too cute to go unfucked.
Jimmy undoes his belt, it hangs loose like a thread while he watches you pant and kick uselessly, thrashing like you’re working against a strong current. It’s cute. You’re trying to push through even as tiredness takes your tender muscles in its claws, spreading through your body like poison. Aw. You tuckered yourself out.
“Done?” Jimmy huffs out a laugh through his nose, sliding his jeans and boxers down his hips in one go, cock popping out and hanging heavy, the thick head prodding your thigh. It wets your skin with sticky pre and you recoil visibly, a shuddered breath passing through you. “Touch it,” he urges, “won’t bite.”
“No,” you mumble, closing your eyes, refusing to look at him or touch him or even breathe in his direction.
Clicking his tongue, Jimmy spreads your thighs, running the fat head up your slit. You’re not wet so he parts your cunt lips with his index and forefinger, a glob of spit dropping from his mouth, trickling down your folds and into your ass crack. It’ll do.
He presses the head to your tiny opening, where no real cock has been, this pretty little dyke cunt all for his taking. You cry out when he pushes in, hands flying to his shoulders, your nails on his skin are rewarding.
“No… No—It hurts, oh god.” Your eyes are wide open, jaw hanging open, pussy split open as he slides his dick in inch by painful inch, the painful drag of his shaft on your raw walls.
You push him out and he pushes harder on purpose, working against the resistance your cunt puts up until his balls press neatly to the swell of your ass. You’re saying something and Jimmy isn’t listening, too busy watching where the two of you meet, your hole split like an open wound. A rusty knife in your guts.
He grows tired of your aimless chatter, hand wrapping around your neck so tight you grow frantic, unable to draw breath, suffocating as every part of you is ruined by him. “I know it hurts,” Jimmy says monotonously, “it’ll get better.”
Hips drawn back, with a little difficulty, you’re not wet enough for it to happen smoothly, Jimmy slams back into you with a grunt, tip jabbing at your cervix so hard you let out a strangled noise. “Tell you what, I’ll pull out if you cum for me.”
Now, the female orgasm is none of Jimmy’s business, its a myth for all he cares, but to get a dyke to cum, that’s a different story. You’re going to cum no matter what, you don’t really have a say. Even when he removes his hand from your throat, there’s not much you can do about the deft fingers working on your clit.
It’s not quite right. Your pussy isn’t wet like a pussy should be. Sticky, letting the pads of his fingers glide over your clit until you cream your stupid dyke cunt all over him. Instead, it’s slippery, he ends up rubbing too hard, pinching your clit until his fingertips prune. Your breath is uneven, shaky, chapped lips parted as a pained look contorts your pretty face.
You are pretty. Too pretty to be a dyke. Too pretty to not be stuffed full of a big dick, he’s doing the right thing here. You just needed a push in the right direction.
He feels it, the way you go rigid, pussy so tight you cut off his blood circulation, and you cry. Boo-fucking-hoo, he made you cum. God forbid. Girls are never happy. You don’t make them cum and they claim to be gay, you make them cum and they freak out on you.
“I told you,” Jimmy hums, popping his cock out of your stretched hole, shifting upwards so his thighs are on either side of your head, “you gotta give it a try, now you don’t have to be confused.” He jerks his cock slowly, admiring the dead-eyed expression you’ve taken on, barely even blinking as he blows his load all over your face, in your hair and those expensive-looking false lashes.
Even dykes are a little straight, they just need a push in the right direction.
#jimmy mouthwashing smut#mouthwashing x you#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing smut#mouthwashing jimmy smut#jimmy smut#jimmy x reader#mouthwashing jimmy x reader#dead dove do not eat#dark fic
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hii can you do something like a corruption kink with any enha hyung line membet you want and like virgin reader? where they're like lowkey going wild over the fact that she's a virgin and can't wait to corrupt her and stuff. sorry if this makes no sense or you don't want to write it, i totally get it if you don't. thanks and have a nice day <3
corruption ~ enha hyung line
if the enha hyung line would have a corruption kink or not , and the extent of which how badly they want to ruin your innocence and take you for themselves.
enha hyung line x reader | corruption kink
warnings : semi smut , corruption kink , multiple positions , daddy kink , sub / dom dymanic , breeding kink , dacryphilia , degrading , praise , size kink , this kinda sucks , not proof read
LEE HEESEUNG .ᐟ ----- ♡
I feel like heeseung would have a corruption kink - but only to a certain extent and only for you.
the two of you have been dating for a couple months now , and everything has been so blissful and sweet... apart from your sex life.
every time the two of you make out and things get heated , you always shy away and make up an excuse not to do anything sexual.
he is so patient with you though and would never get mad at denying any sort of sexual intimacy , he is such a sweet boyfriend ugh I love him sm.
but one day , the two of you are making out , and his fingers slide up the fabric of your skirt , your skin leaving goosebumps trailing on your skin.
just as he's about to reach your underwear , you whine and break the kiss. your lips wet and swollen as you catch your breath before you speak in a whisper.
"I-im not ready" heeseungs eyes open and meet with yours , his lips also swollen and hungry.
"wassa matter baby ? you can tell me angel , im here to listen" your face turns a shade redder than it already was and you sit back a little on his lap , shifting uncomfortably. your eyes dart away to look anywhere else but him . his fingers rub gentle patterns on your thigh , coaxing you to calm your nerves.
"im... uhm... im not- I dont know.. god this is embarrassing," you face palm and bite your lip. heeseungs ears perk up , his mind racing at your words.
he's had a suspicion about the topic at hand , he's just been waiting for you to confirm it.
and oh god does this make things so much better for him.
his own personal , little baby to corrupt and ruin . the thought of taking your virginity for himself and showing you how to have sex , teach you how to use your pretty mouth makes his dick harder than ever.
you feel his cock harden underneath you , and your eyes widen in shock, your hips squirming in his hold.
"h-heeseung... im- I dont know how... ive never done anything.." you shake your head and cover your face in embarrassment once more.
heeseung brings your hands down from your face and force you to look at him, both of your faces red.
"I don't care angel ... I'll take care of you, kay'?" one of his hands trail to your thigh, trailing upwards once more.
"I'll make you feel good baby , so so good..." his fingers met with your damp panties , pressing them against your clothed bundle of nerves
"you'll be beggin' me to stop.."
he would finger you on his lap to prep you, your first orgasm rushes over you , and you can't help but fall apart on his lap underneath his control.
after making you come undone on his lap , he would force you onto your back and eat you out , lapping and sucking your juices like a starved animal , showing you just how good he can make you feel
he never wants to stop ever because you have such a sweet , sweet taste.
"my pretty girl has such a sweet taste , such a good girl for me baby , you gonna cum again my love ? wanna cum for me angel ?"
the though of having a perfect , little virgin right in the palm of his hand coming undone all for him and because of him quite literally makes him cum in his boxers , and he hasnt even touched himself yet !
ugh how he can't wait to fuck your tight , soaked pussy and make you drool all over him with the dumbest , braindead look on your face makes him hot and heavy - so that's exactly what he does.
PARK JONGSEONG ----- .ᐟ ♡
oh yes he would 100% have a corruption kink , and its BAD bro.
the two of you are just friends , but its so obvious that you have a crush on each other .
some sick and twisted part of Jay stops him from confessing first - wanting to see just how worked up he gets you before you fall apart in frustration.
that's the sadistic side of him.
you always go to him with your frustrations - and recently , its been about how you can't get yourself off no matter what toy you use - and you have a pretty good collection.
"I dont know what im doing wrong ! im so- ugh. I can't do anything by myself and I dont even have a boyfriend to help me. the guy I like doesn't like me back and it's so frustrating" you take a deep breath , your cheeks coated in a deep , pink blush before you continue
"I want... I wanna be able to pleasure myself so badly - im so frustrated all the time , espically with the guy I like ! its so frustrating being around him he makes me so..." your eyes lock with his , and you swear your heart stops for a second.
Jay is man spreading on your bed - it would be a cute sight due to your cute stuffed animals surrounding him in your pink bedroom - but the look on his face makes you fold in on yourself and stutter over your words.
"I-i ... n- nevermind..." your arms cross over your stomach and you advert your eyes from his figure.
the reason you came to him was because you've been best friends since you were children , and a conversation like this was never awkward because you have told each other literally everything - when you hit puberty and you didn't even know how to put a tampon in , how much gooey blood there was - and none of it made jay feel weird , of course it wouldn't ! he could never feel weird around you.
Jay's thoughts are running wild , especially with the way your thighs are clamped together and rubbing against one another. you dont realize you're even doing it , and that thought makes him want to pin you down and use your body as he pleases.
"look at me." his demand causes you to jump , and you obey him with shy eyes. your eyes interlock with his and he tongues his cheek , eyeing you up and down.
hes had enough of this little game ; he's caught you inbetween his fingers and now here you were , squirming in the palm of his hand like a pathetic little mouse.
"you truly have no idea what you do to me, huh y/n?" you suck in a deep breath , your lips parting as he continues.
"you wanna know what I wanna do to you , sweet thing ?" your heart rate increases , your body frozen just a mere foot or two away from the man in front of you.
"oh so many disgusting , dirty thoughts come to mind." your eyes dont look away from his , not for a second as he continues.
"you think I didn't know about your little infatuation , y/n ? its so abundantly obvious , its honestly adorable how innocent you are."
"j-jay..." you say breathlessly. he chuckles at your words , but continues nontheless.
"you honestly think I didn't see you humping your pillow after I left your house ? how you whimpered my name so pathetically ? you still couldn't get yourself off huh baby ?" you shake your head without thinking .
"aww , my poor baby couldn't do it herself huh ?" you shake your head again.
"I went home that night and thought of all the positions I wanted to fold you in. how badly I wanted to use your body however I wanted." you whine at his words , your thighs rubbing against each other more harshly.
"I wanna eat your sweet pussy with my fingers fucking you from the inside out" he sits up and begins to crawl over to you, your heart rate picks up and you lean back on instinct. Jay chuckles , enjoying the little cat-mouse game you've begun to play.
"I wanna fuck and abuse you tiny cunt until your eyes roll into the back of your head , my name being the only thing you can remember" your back hits the mattress below you, Jay crawling over your small frame right after. his fingers come in contact with your damp panties under your pretty dress.
"tsk, so wet already, how pathetic." you whimper at his cruel words , but he feels your hole clamp and his eyes widen.
"I'm gonna make you cry all over me baby . want me to use your pretty body ? want fuck you dumb ? "
you nod your head , but that's not enough for jay.
"words, princess"
"y-yes daddy..." now its his turn to feel flustered, his cock straining in his jeans at your words.
"oh god , you're so perfect , such a good girl for me , a good girl for daddy hmm?" you nod your head , gasping as his cold fingers pull your panties to the side and run through your wet folds.
god he can't wait to strip you of your innocence and alter your mind to where you can't even process anything but him and him alone , forcing you into submission and mark you his and only his.
SIM JAEHYUN ----- .ᐟ ♡
I feel as though Jake wouldn't have much of a corruption kink - he would be more into the experienced women.... however, you would be the one and only exeption.
the two of you have been friends for a couple years , meeting through a mutual friend of yours , sunghoon. since the moment Jake has laid eyes on you , he knew he was fucked .
the two of you dont hang out one on one often , only a few times has it happened , deciding on the fact that hanging out in a friend group setting was more ideal.
he tried to get rid of the little crush he had on you , he really really did.
until one day you two had ran into each other while walking to class . you decided to hang out for the day and do some shopping .
Jake wishes he would have never ever agreed , because that day he figured out just how innocent you truly are .
you literally took him into a Victorias secret for fucks sake , and despite his protests and cherry red cheeks , his looks of lust mixed with embarrassment flew right over your pretty head .
what made the situation worse was a couple guys tried hitting on you after figuring out you were single - you were beautiful , of course you would get people hitting on you from time to time.
you were so oblivious to their remarks , that when they walked away , you literally said with your entire chest
"I made a new friend !" you were so cute , it took Jake all his restraint in his body from bending you over the display and fucking you raw.
his last bit of sanity slipped from his fingers when you were hanging out with all of your friends at jakes house. the topic of sex came up and everyone was talking about how they've had sex before , and Jake couldnt help but stare at you the entire time .
your cheeks were dusted red and you were shyly sitting with your knees pressed together , looking around the living room and avoiding the conversation.
"what about you y/n , you've ever had sex ?" sunoo wiggles his eyebrows
"dont make her uncomfortable dude , y/n dont listen to him" sunoo rolls his eyes at jays lecturing words . you purse your lips into a pout and look over at Jake , who is already staring at you , waiting for an answer
"actually.... im a virgin." you say , embarrassment laced in your tone. Jake feels his dick harden and his eyes widen. how could he have been so blind ? of course you were a virgin , you're so oblivious when guys hit on you , and you literally took him into a Victorias secret .
he feels his sanity snap the second the words leave your mouth , and he quickly ushers everybody out of his house , claiming that something came up and everybody has to leave.
you were about to leave , waving Jake a goodbye before you took a good look at him ; he was avoiding all eye contact with you and didn't say goodbye.
he was acting weird , and you had to get to the bottom of it.
"Jake , are you okay ?" worry written in your tone , it made Jake groan
"im fine y/n , ill see you later " he goes to close the door , but you push it open before it had the chance to click closed .
you push your way in, looking up at the man with a questioning look. you cross your arms over your chest and shift your weight onto one of your legs.
"Jake , please tell me what's wrong , did I do something" Jake groans again , and his patience is wearing unbearably thin as you question him.
"y/n please , I don't want to talk about it" the thought of you being a virgin is eating away at his morality , his entire demeanor shifting dark as you stand in his doorway .
he's two seconds away from lifting you into the air and throwing you down onto the nearest , comfortable surface and showing you how experienced he is , taking away your innocence and virginity and carving his name all over it , making you his in every way possible .
"please , im here for you" you go to reach for his hand , but are quickly met with the front door slamming right before being pushed up against it, Jake hovering over your smaller frame and trapping you with his arms .
your clit throbs , an unfamiliar feeling as he looms over you.
"you drive me so. fucking. insane." he speaks honestly , and your thighs clamp down and rub together , needing some sort of friction.
"you mean to tell me you dragged me into a lingerie shop , and had no idea that you were turning me on ?" you gulp at his words - you half knew what you were doing, and you're now starting to feel embarrassed for doing so.
"I-im... yun.." you whine, not being able to form a coherent sentence.
"im giving you two options; you can leave and our friendship will go back to how it was because its clear that this isn't normal , or you can stay" you're about to answer , but you're cut off before you can speak
"if you stay , im warning you now that you're not going to be able to walk out of here tomorrow" you dont answer , your voice cut too small in order to do so.
Jake takes your chin between his index and thumb finger , forcing you to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes.
"i'm gonna to make you scream my name and cum as many times as I want" his hand moves from the wall to your waist , pressing his front against yours , resulting in his hard cock pressing up against your thigh. you gasp , nodding your head quicker than you can think
"please- want you yun.. pl- yes.. wanna stay" that's all he needs before he's lifting you into the air , your legs wrapping around his front while your hands find their way to entangle in his hair.
his fingers work magic on your clit , your slick coating his digits perfectly
"so wet for me , you have such a pretty pussy baby" he kisses your bundle of nerves as he presses two fingers into your tight , wet cunt. your back arches off the bed as you approach your first orgasm in your life. you feel a weird sensation in your tummy and your hands frantically grab jakes shoulders
"o- oh my god I feel... please" you beg for something you aren't even sure of.
"c'mon darling , finish for me pretty girl" and so you do , squirting all over jakes face and bed and his eyes widen in shock. he coaxes you to relax before kissing your temple
"looks like I got a little squirter on my hands" he chuckles
"g-gentle please.." you shouldn't have said those words oh god , that only makes Jake want to be more rough , but he listens anyways as his thrusts are slow and concentrated . the way you're pussy is unbelievably tight and new is so, so taunting.
you hiss at the sting and before long , he's folded you in half and showing you all the right positions and angles , fucking you through your third orgasm of the night.
"y-yun feels so - ugh ff-uck" you squeal at the angle , his bulbous tip kissing your sweet spot with every thrust
"want me to fill you up with my cum sweet ? breed your tiny pussy ? oh god you're so small fuck " your back arches off the bed and you scratch his back , leaving trails of red blood.
"tell me how it feels baby , let go all over me" he speaks , demanding an answer
"f-feels so good , so full , mmmf , oh my god" you respond , your legs shaking in jakes hold and your eyes squeezed tight
Jake doesn't seem to care as you flutter around his cock , screaming as your fourth orgasm just about washes over you.
"please , want you to use me ! d-da... ddy please!" as if you couldnt be any more perfect , Jake chuckles before snapping his hips against your ass , your knees besides your head.
"dont worry baby , daddy's gonna take such good care of you . such a good girl , giving daddy your innocence , takin' me so well" you just about sob at his sweet words
letting Jake take your virginity was the best fucking thing that could have happened ever
PARK SUNGHOON ----- .ᐟ ♡
he has the worst corruption kink fucking ever dude it drives me INSANE
sunghoon is someone you met in a college class.
although he was reserved and somewhat cold , you tried to get along with him anyways , he was your seat partner after all.
it took a while for him to start getting comfortable with you and soon , the two of you became friends.
it took him way longer to let you in than most people because of how badly he wanted to fuck you.
yes, fuck you. the way you hold yourself was so cute. you were a shy one for sure. you were soft spoken and quiet - reserved in the exact same way he is and it would be a lie if you were to say you didn't find him attractive either.
a mature , strong man is all you needed - so you were bound to start lusting after him as he was you.
but you couldnt ruin such an early friendship , the two of you were starting to get to know each other and you didn't want to mess things up. the more you two hung out , the more you realized he was different with you than with other people he knew
more gentle in a way. how he would talk to you so soft and caring , he was the biggest sweetheart - especially to you.
but dont let his actions deceive you - his thoughts were definitely nothing like how he acts.
every lingering, soft touch on the small of your back makes him want to force you into an arch and pound into you from behind , pulling your hair and making you scream out his name.
bite and suck pretty little marks into your perfect skin, make you cream all over his cock as many times as he wishes as you lay down and take it like a good little girl.
every time you would get too close to him , resulting in getting a wiff of your vanilla perfume makes him want to force your legs apart and eat you out for hours until your too weak to move , yet still cumming all over his face.
you would send him a selfie of your makeup and outfit before starting your day , and each time you did that he would groan and rub one out
"fuck-" he moans , squeezing his tip in his palm as he looks at his phone screen - a beautiful picture of you - your hair is up in two curled ponytails , your glittery eyeshadow and wispy eyelashes make your doe eyes pop , and oh god your lips are pink and glossy , pouting as you snap the picture
he wishes he could stain your lips with his cum and stuff your cheeks full of his warm seed
he would face fuck you until you pass out due to lack of oxygen
his pearly beads of precum leak from his tip as he smears it down his shaft , using it as lubricant as he moans your name , imagining his hand was your mouth instead
he would teach you how to suck his cock and would be oh so patient with you. you would look into his eyes for praise and he would gift it to you gratiously
"such a good girl , taking my cock so well-"
"sunghoonie?" one of his friends breaks him out of his trance. you're in a group setting and one of his female friends is trying to talk to him- more so flirt.
he pays no mind to the girl, focusing on your figure instead.
the way your short skirt compliments your thighs makes him feel hot , and it doesn't help with the thigh highs you decided to wear along with the dainty article of clothing.
you're talking to Jake , who is flirting with you shamelessly. you are also paying him no mind as you're ears are focused on sunghoons conversation.
you feel anger bubble in your chest as this chick flirts with him. Jake notices your soiled face and says something about it. you mutter under your breath
"I got to go" before walking away and towards your apartment - which was just a couple minutes away. sunghoons eyes follow your figure and he up and leaves his conversation , not caring that he just ignored the girl.
"y/n , y/n wait " sunghoon catches up to you and grabs your wrist , spinning you around to face him. your face is contorted into one of anger , and sunghoon can't help but coo at your cute face
"what's the matter?" he pouts , your anger doesn't disperse though as you clench your jaw. you feel more embarrassment now because he actually followed you - you have no idea what to say.
"I don't know , I dont feel good" you lie through your teeth , and he catches it. sunghoon shrugs his shoulders and starts walking in the direction of your apartment , wrapping his arm around your back , his hand finding the slope of your waist and directs you towards your apartment.
you blush under his hold as you open your apartment door , letting the man in and following in right after.
"why did you get upset and storm off?" he asks , sitting down on your couch with his legs spread. you walk into the kitchen and grab a glass of water , chugging it before answering.
"I just wasn't feeling good" he raises his eyebrows at your lie , eyeballing you from across the room.
"are you sure about that?" your cheeks glow red and you shift uncomfortably under his gaze , fidgeting with your fingers.
"you have no clue huh?" you shoot him a questioning look, not quite picking up what he's putting down. he chuckles at your face , finding it adorable how you squirm just from him looking at you.
"about what?" you respond , sunghoons eyes grow dark , racking his eyes up and down his figure.
"tell me y/n , do you have any experience with guys?" your breath hitches at his question and you slowly shake your head back and forth, answering him. sunghoon smirks at you , bringing his hand into the air , motioning for you to come to him.
"come here, love"
you obey , walking over to him slowly and standing inbetween his spread legs. he sits up and places his hands on the hills of your waist , massaging gentle circles on your skin.
"tell me why you were upset" he looks up into your eyes and you can't help but feel like falling apart in his hands.
"that girl earlier... she was flirting with you.." your voice was above a whisper , but you answer anyways. sunghoon bites his cheek , his hands running down your body and towards your thighs. goosebumps trail on your skin at his touch.
"and you were jealous ?" you nod your head as an answer , sunghoon admiring your submission.
"you think I touch her like this hmm?" his hands move up your short skirt and towards the hem of your underwear, playing with the straps of your lacy thong. you shake your head , your chest heaving up and down.
"want me to tell you a secret?" you shake your head yes , not being able to find any words in your racing mind. sunghoon pushes you to sit in his lap , his hands coming to cup the plush of your ass under your skirt , playing with your underwear.
"ive been wanting to fuck you since the day I saw you. I masturbait to the selfies you send me every morning" you wrap your arms around his shoulders and neck , pressing your chest against his with a hushed moan , burring your face into the skin of his collarbone and neck. his hands move to your hips , guiding you to grind down onto his growing cock.
"do you fuck yourself thinking about me , little one?" you nod your head shamelessly , whimpering out a pathetic "yes". sunghoon moves his face to kiss up and down your bare neck, beginning to grind his hips up into yours for friction.
"have you ever came to the thought of me , pretty ? you ever cum to the image of me fucking you ?" you shake your head no , an embarrassing whine vibrating through his neck through your lips.
"my poor baby. needs daddy's help getting off hmm? can't do it yourself so you need daddy to do it for her huh?"
"y-yes please, need daddy's help making me cum"
so that's exactly what he does
over
and over
and over again
your first orgasm was gifted to you by sunghoon so sweetly , eating you out with your back flush against the couch with your panties pulled to the side , gifting you words of praise such as
"doing such a good job for me baby doll"
and
"just like that pretty girl , my perfect little girl"
earlier, you would have thought he was the sweetest person on earth, but that quickly changed as he has your ass in the air and your face down into the cushions of the couch , screaming his name over and over again
"d-daddy slow ! can-cant ,, too much please !" you squeal , but your cries are useless as he abuses your tiny hole.
"gonna make you mine , fill you up so nicely - ill put a fucking baby in you , want me to make you a mommy?" of course he's bluffing , god this was your first time having sex for fuck sake .
"y-yes please daddy fuck- need,, oh god please" your legs kick under him , your arms held in place by his hand behind your back. he chuckles at your words , his hips snapping against your ass in a rough pace that doesn't let up.
"who's pussy is this, who owns you doll?" you scream as you feel the coil in your abdomen unravel , sunghoon landing a harsh smack against your ass.
"you do ! daddy does !"
"that's right baby , daddy does. gonna fuck you dumb and take your goddamn innocence until you're a puddle in my hands."
#⊹ ⋆꒰ఎ ♡ ໒꒱ ⋆゚⊹#girlblog ♡#enhypen smut#enhypen#lee heeseung smut#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung#heeseung smut#heeseung x reader smut#park jongseong#jay x reader#park jongseong x reader#park jongseong smut#sim jaehyun x reader smut#sim jaehyun smut#sim jaehyun x reader#park sunghoon x reader#sunghoon x reader smut#enhypen jake x reader smut#jake x reader smut
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I'm really thinking about that one Ghost post you wrote about him basically making himself at home at the reader's place when she found him near dead in the woods and it still is scratching my brain all right 😭 him devoting his life to her and the fact her husband is there completely upset about this all is the perfect drama.
the thing i love most about this is that i never mentioned ghost by name in that post <3 not once <3 but you're right. it is so, so ghost-coded. ghoded, if you will.
you're the hands in which he rests, a weapon; submissive in the way (as was once said) a sheep-guarding hound is submissive to the livestock it protects.
so mismatched is his demeanor with yours--harsh and scarred--and that it frightens the townspeople around you. and your guards.
when you do get hurt, they jump at the chance to accuse Ghost of hurting you. no matter how you insist you're fine and demand the townsfolk see reason--you witnessed the attack, for god's sake! not to mention your wound is shallow and looks much worse than it is. but the guards lock him up in the small dungeon under your family's estate.
at your direction, Simon doesn't fight his captors. you both know, for all his strength, he'll be killed if the guards see their chance to take his life. they've never trusted him.
and so he's hauled off, chained up like a dog, lying in wait for his sheep.
when you return to see him, having pushed through those who insisted you stay away, that he's dangerous, that he hurt you--only then does Simon strain against those chains. he wants to be at your side. he's driven half out of his mind with worry that the assassin who hurt you might come back and finish the job without him there to protect you.
he'd pull the chain bolts clean out of the rotting brick to get back to you if not for the guarantee you'd be kept from him if he did. although it's not by your choice.
he's even willing to confess to crimes he never committed, would never commit, if it meant being in your debt, imprisoned in your home, back by your side.
you stay with him as long as you can. his arms are locked behind him and he rests on his knees, more animal than man, as he presses his face against your waist. his desperation abates once you take his face in your hands to comfort him. he's lightheaded.
you assure him you'll be back, that you'll figure this out and get him home and out of those chains soon. he strains against the chains again as you pull away.
it's not until there's a second attempt on your life that he's vindicated.
the only story anyone knows is that when you screamed, by the time your guards made it up to your bedchamber, the blood from your attacker's corpse was already soaking into your rug. one of them tried and failed to coax the bloody dagger out of your shaking hands. your palms were clean.
you tell the guards this was the man who attacked you before. you tell them to bury him and not speak of this again; to leave your chamber for you to clean.
once they're gone, Simon emerges from the shadows, hands bloody, to disentangle your hands (white knuckled) from the dagger, to usher you into the wash basin. you see the iron cuffs on his wrists, chains snapped off, and say nothing.
nobody is ever quite sure who released him. just as nobody is sure who the assassin worked for.
strangely, your husband seems to avoid you after that.
;)
more Ghost / masterlist
#mine#snippet#x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#ask#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#tf 141 x reader#tf 141#cod au#call of duty au#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod ghost#modern warfare#cod modern warfare
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Press One for Love, Two for Regret
Chapter 1
Summary: Proper confessions should never happen over the phone. Viktor knows that. So how did he get here?
Pairing: Viktor x Reader
Word Count: 1.5K
Warning: Mature (mentions of explicit content, explicit in the last chapter)
Notes: Prompt suggested by a lovely anon ask and that I absolutely ran away with 💞. I hope you enjoy🌻!!
(Chapter 2) (Chapter 3) (Chapter 4/End)
“And another thing-!” you yell through the phone mic.
Viktor does not want to know the other thing.
For the first time in his life, he really wishes you would stop talking right now.
After months of a tumultuous relationship with a guy Viktor didn't believe was worthy of licking the sole of your boots, you had finally chosen to break it off tonight. Part of him (a large part of him if he's being honest with himself) is absolutely delighted at the news. Not only do you deserve so much better than the kind of scumbag who cheats on their partner, he can't help but think, selfishly, that there's a small chance for him to make his way into your heart. A chance to confess how he's felt for years now, how he's felt since the first time you smiled at him, and for you to see him in a new light. Not as a friend, but as a man, deeply, stupidly in love with you.
It's currently very hard to bask in the joy of all that potential because you've been talking over the phone for over two hours about every single thing your now ex-boyfriend had ever done to you.
“-and it's like, I should have known, you should never trust a guy who refuses go down a woman-“
Or hadn't done, in that case.
“Sweetheart, I don't want to say I told you so,” Mel speaks up at the other end of the line, voice firm but comforting, “but I did tell you so.”
“She did tell you,” Jayce pipes up, elbowing him in the arm. Viktor winces quietly and shoots his beaming friend a deadly glare. “Right Viktor?”
He lets out a non-committal mumble.
You've already moved on though, rambling about something else your Romeo had done. It's not like he was going to add anything helpful, anyway.
As soon as you had called him earlier that night, Viktor could tell something was wrong. The slight tremor in your voice, the lightest slurring of your words; you had been crying. He can read you like an open book, and you always come to him for advice whenever you need someone's help. No one else. That trust is something that means the world to him.
A second after he had asked what was wrong, you broke into tears and sobbed your way through a half-inaudible story about someone cheating and a breakup over text. And Viktor, like a coward, had panicked at the idea of discussing your romantic life with his very bothersome feelings getting in the way.
So he went to see his roommate for help, breaking the intimate bond of confidence you usually share together in the hopes of finding someone better qualified at handling the situation.
Which turned out to be an even bigger mistake.
Jayce isn't bad at discussing emotions per se; in fact, he's leagues above Viktor in that department. Where he tends to bottle up his thoughts and stew in them for hours on his own, Jayce will always be up for a talk, no matter the time or topic, that shining smile on his lips.
However, despite this, Jayce is a very poor listener.
His leg has been bouncing up and down for the last hour, like a puppy that needs to go pee outside. He's barely listening, only commenting every now and then, in favour of grinning at him and whispering embarrassing words of what he thinks is encouragement.
“Tell her you'll be there for her!”
“C'mon, say you'll go over to see her!”
“Vik, this is your moment!”
And then, there's Mel.
Because somewhere in the middle of this living nightmare, he thought perhaps a feminine, calm and composed presence like Mel would help you relax. Mel is the perfect listener, always striking that perfect balance between lending an ear and giving solid guidance. Viktor often finds himself wishing he could learn from how well she seems to understand everyone around her.
And yet her addition to the phone call seemingly just made everything worse.
You were definitely already a few drinks in by the time you called him, and now with her there as empathic support, you've lost absolutely all sense of self-restraint.
“And he was so bad with his tongue, did I say that before, Mel? He had no idea what to do with it, just shoving it in my mouth like a worm-”
Viktor is going insane. Hell is really just a never-ending phone call, with the girl you like telling you about sex with her ex.
“Yeah, honey, you did,” Mel sighs, even her otherworldly patience starting to wear thin. He can hear the fatigue in her voice; its close to one AM on a week day. “Maybe you should go to bed for the night, and rest up a little?”
Her extremely wise suggestion falls on deaf ears once again. He's not sure anything could stop your monologue now.
He's usually always so enamoured when you talk about anything. You're always so passionate, full of fire, ready to challenge the status quo and refusing to let anyone's opinion get in your way. It's captivating.
Now, he's mentally arguing the ethics of just pressing the ‘end call’ button to end his suffering.
“I just want someone who'll love me you know?” you drunkenly whine. “Someone who's gonna want to listen to me rant about stupid things. Who's gonna kiss me like it means something. Someone who's actually going to eat me out,” you spit out, clearly still bitter on the topic, “and who's gonna think of me as the only one for them.”
There's a pause, the first one in what feels like hours. You breathe slowly into the mic, only interrupted by a small hiccup. The next words come out quieter, defeated.
“And I don't know anybody who would ever be that person for me.”
Someone speaks up right after that.
“I would.”
And for a second, Viktor really wonders who said that.
Then it registers that that was his voice.
And then the math all adds up in his head, and he realizes it was him.
There's an odd, deafening silence in the room. It's like the pause button on a video has been pressed. For a second, he thinks maybe he's just hallucinated the whole thing.
But then, Jayce smiles at him with one of those handsome, enormous grins of his, and the dread of knowing this is very real sinks in.
“…Sorry, Viktor, what did you say?” you ask, voice no longer shaky.
There are three possible routes to take from here.
He could A., lie and hope you think you misheard him. Not a very likely scenario, because Viktor heard himself say the two cursed words crystal clear. You would call him out instantly.
B., he could hang up, and never talk to you again. Drastic, but a necessary evil. At least he would avoid the embarrassment of ever having to talk to you again. Knowing you, you wouldn't let him off so easily, though.
C., he could be honest. He could tell you he wants to hear you talk about anything and everything, except perhaps your shitty exes. He could tell you he's looked your way for a very, very long time, and that he'd never found the right moment, the right words, to tell you. He could tell you he loves you.
Unfortunately, before he has time to consider his choices and weigh the various pros and cons, Jayce starts answering for him with triumphant laughter:
“Oh my god, Viktor finally said he would-”
“-Would call you back later, yes, goodnight!” he quickly yelps, almost throwing the phone down as he presses the button to end the call. The black screen stares back at him tauntingly.
Meanwhile, Jayce looks at him like he's grown a second head:
“Why did you hang up?!” he protests, picking up the phone and wagging it over Viktor's nose, “This is it! You did it! It's your moment!”
Viktor snatches the phone back, shoving it into his back pocket. Out of sight, out of mind.
“My moment is absolutely not going to happen on the phone, with two other people listening in, while she's ranting about an ex-lover!” he hisses out.
Jayce's expression softens, like he's just now realizing these might not be ideal circumstances. The smartest man Viktor has ever known is somehow also the most dense.
“Maybe she didn't hear,” he adds in a tone that unsuccesfuly tries to be comforting”, “Maybe she heard ‘high wood’, like a… forest of pines?”
Before Viktor can ask how, exactly, a forest of pines of all things would have fit into their conversation, something against his hip vibrates in an awfully familiar pattern.
It's his phone.
“…or maybe not,” Jayce concludes.
#arcane#viktor x reader#viktor arcane#viktor imagine#anon prompt#mine#i am finally posting fics with embellishments. this is truly a day for me.#anon ask#arcane x reader
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God Bless The She Devil Who Made Joel Miller
Pairing: BFD!Joel x F!Reader
18+ only!!!
Summary: After a fight with your boyfriend, your best friend Sarah invites you to say with her at her childhood home with her dad.
CW: Joel be peekin, Joel is mean (but you like it). I’m choosing not to say anything else to not spoil anything so engage at your own risk.
AN: You can all thank @littlevenicebitch69 for this. She asked for being caught, but I am daddy and I know what she really wants 😉 thank you @mermaidgirl30 for being my forever beta xo
Graphics by @saradika-graphics
God bless the absolute angel who brought Sarah Miller into your life. She somehow convinced her dad to let you stay with them over spring break after your boyfriend locked you out of your shared apartment and then refused to answer the phone or let you in. Sweet, empathetic, and dependable Sarah was at your apartment minutes after you called her and didn’t have to say much to her dad to let him allow you to stay.
And God bless the absolute she devil who made Joel Miller and put him in close proximity with you. You have a boyfriend, maybe, you can’t be sure, but you do know you have it HARD for Joel Mother Fucking Miller. He’s exactly the type of man that would classify as a DILF, and you don’t even consider yourself into older men. But Joel isn’t older, he’s experienced and charming and every single thing he does seems to turn you on.
Sarah has been working a day shift at the local grocery store during the break and Joel is off running his contracting business. Joel Miller, sweaty and dirty and building things with his large calloused hands. Fuck, you try to shake that image from your brain because you certainly do not need another image of him to touch yourself too.
You have a job serving in the evenings so the house is quiet and all yours during the day. This afternoon the sun peeks through your curtains and wakes you. Sun dancing along the pale yellow walls of the spare bedroom. You pick up your phone and see that it’s clear and sunny, the perfect day to lay out by the pool that Joel said you could use, “make yourself at home, darlin’, any friend of Sarah is welcome anytime.”
You practically leap out of bed and into your ensuite bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready to lay out in the sun. You rush down the hall in the swimsuit Sarah lent you, a large blue and white striped pool towel tucked under your arm.
You love Sarah, but there’s no chance you’re wearing this ridiculous one piece swimsuit to tan, plus you’re alone so what’s the harm? Joel doesn’t get home until well after 5 pm most nights, Sarah usually around 3 or 4, and she’s seen you naked more than once. Plus the backyard is fairly private, most likely no one will see anything.
Fuck it, you think to yourself, slipping the red lycra straps off your shoulders and then shimmying the suit down your body. The sun immediately warms your skin and that boost of vitamin D already has you feeling lighter and happier. You spread the towel down on the chair and lay on your stomach, tying your hair on top of your head and then grabbing your phone.
You flip through Spotify before settling on the album Ten by Pearl Jam. As the first song floats across the backyard, you rest your cheek on your hands and let the fast paced grunge music wash away your thoughts of your boyfriend and what you’re going to do next week when you go back to school. All that matters now is the sun on your skin.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel was just about to start working on some paperwork for his next building when he heard movement in the hallway. You must be up for the day, he should probably let you know he’s working from home today, just in case. He wants you to be comfortable here, even if it’s killing him to see you wandering around his house in those small denim shorts you wear to work. Last night he was almost certain he could see your hard nipples peeking out from the fabric of your tight white t-shirt.
Absolutely not, Joel. He scolds himself.
He hears you pad down the hall and then the unmistakable swoosh of the sliding glass door to the backyard. He glances out the window in his office to see you slip the red swimsuit Sarah lent you off your body. His cock was already painfully hard behind his jeans.
She just turned 21. The Angel on his shoulder reminds the devil that’s tempting him from the other side.
His mouth waters as he looks at your body. Your tits are perky, pink little nipples hardening as the air hits them.
She's going through a hard time. The good side of his conscience seems to be losing but he finds an ounce of strength and looks away. He can’t be staring at you.
He tries to focus on this goddamn contract but even little deadline and “initial here” blend together and all he can see in the jumbled words of the page is that little strip of hair that leads to that bundle of nerves he so badly wants to suck on. When he looks up again you’re laying face down, round and perky ass facing his window and on display for him. She must not know he’s home, and now she’s going to think he’s a total fucking creep if he says something now.
She’s your daughter's best friend. No, she’s off limits. Beyond off limits. Get it together, Miller.
And then your music drifts through his cracked window. You’re listening to Pearl Jam. So now not only are you incredibly tempting but you also have the music of his teenage years blasting. He can’t resist anymore, glancing out of the window to see you still laying on your stomach and your plush ass bouncing along as you wiggle to Eddie Vedder singing about still being alive.
He’s not sure how it happens, his body seems to move without him knowing, and suddenly he’s standing at the window, staring down into the backyard at you. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the large window frame.
He slows his breathing and focuses on you - every dip and curve, every freckle, every little bit of skin being absorbed by his heated gaze. Your legs are slightly parted, but not enough for him to be able to see your cunt, and fuck does he want to see it.
His palms tingle with the need to cup your ass, maybe spank you for being naked in the middle of the day. He has neighbors, they could see you right now. This is unacceptable and you should be punished.
Just as he’s about to head downstairs his cell phone rings loudly and you shoot up onto your elbows and look over your shoulder at him, eyes locking with his before a tiny smile crosses your face. Joel looks away quickly and grabs his cell, almost crushing the device in his grasp as he answers.
X•X•X•X•X•X•X
Joel Miller was fully lurking at your naked body, and while that should probably embarrass you, you need to get fucked. You need something, anything, to forget about that piece of shit boyfriend who locked you out and refuses to talk to you or let you get your stuff. Sarah told you when you first met that he had her when he was 19, so it’s not like he’s THAT much older than you. Plus it’s just fucking.
Yep, I’m going for it.
You gather the towel around your body loosely, hooking your swimsuit on your finger and twirling it happily as you head into the house, determined to confront him and then seduce him. When you head up the stairs he’s standing in the doorframe of his office, just across from the spare bedroom you’re occupying. He looks deliciously pissed, one arm propped above his head on the door frame, the other on his hip, knee popped out. Your pussy flutters at the thought of his large, angry body above yours.
The opening bars of Jeremy fill the silence between you two, almost daring the other to make the first move.
“Turn that off,” Joel snaps. “I’m working.”
“Didn’t look like you were working a few minutes ago,” you say back, matching his energy.
Joel’s eyes narrow, brows furrowing, but you can tell he’s fighting to keep his eyes on yours. You lick your lips, testing him, teasing him, pushing him to see if he’ll take the bait. The flick of his eyes to your lips happens so quickly you almost miss it.
You let out a scoff, “Ya, that’s what I thought.” You step towards him, so close that you can smell the coffee and sawdust on him. “Wanna take a break from all that work?” You say the word work teasingly, trying to entice him.
“Go to your room and put some clothes on. Don’t let me catch you naked in the backyard again,” He says deeply, then closes his office door in your face.
You smirk to yourself, dropping the towel at his door and wandering into your room leaving the door wide open. You hook your phone to the Bluetooth speaker as you lay on your bed completely naked. You hit the volume button and slip your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit in fast, little circles.
“Daddy didn’t give no affection, no
And the boy was something that Mommy wouldn’t wear
King Jeremy the wicked
Oh, ruled his world”
Joel whips his office door open looking absolutely furious. His breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. Bare, wide open, and soaking wet. You don’t stop, don’t even bother to look his way, as you dip your fingers into your pussy and cry out his name. Joel steps into your room and hits the power button on your speaker. The only sounds that film the room are your moans and the squelching of your arousal as your fingers slip in and out of your pussy.
“What the fuck did I just say, little girl?” Joel says darkly.
You open your eyes to look at him and the expression on his face sends your heart into your stomach. You’ve always been a little bit of a brat, getting in trouble lots growing up. Truthfully, you like the rush of it, the adrenaline of the unknown. But Joel looks dangerous, eyes blown out with rage and lust, hands clamped into fists at his sides, a slight blush pinks his cheeks, lips in a tight line.
You sit up, crossing your legs and covering yourself with a pillow as you turn towards him. You’re suddenly not feeling so confident, you may have pushed the wrong man.
“Y-you said outside,” you start, your voice wavering. “I’m inside.”
Joel moves so quickly that you don’t even have time to register what’s happening as the pillow is ripped from your grip and disposed of on the floor in front of you. You’re bare and exposed to him again.
“Spread your legs,” he says hungrily, voice a raspy whisper.
He watches your throat as you swallow hard, leaning back on your elbows and planting your feet on the edge of the bed. You look at him tentatively, jumping and letting out a little squeal when he barks, “I said spread your fucking legs.”
You relax, letting your knees fall open. His breathing is rapid, a growling moan leaving his parted lips. He takes one step, his knees hitting the edge of the bed.
“Joel -” you start.
“Shut up. You knew what you were doing, you wanted this. Didn’t you?”
“Y-Yes, but…” his hand slaps the inside of your thigh and your knees slam together as you cry out.
“Spread. Your fucking. Legs,” he repeats in a slow and deep command.
“That hurt!” You say back, squeezing your knees together tighter. It feels like he set fire to your thigh and you can already see the red handprint forming.
“If you’re gonna act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like one. Now spread your legs so I can hit the other one.” He raises an eyebrow at you cockily. “If you keep them open, I might reward you.” You’ve bit off more than you can chew with Joel Miller.
You take in a calming breath through your nose, relaxing your knees as you exhale slowly. Joel can see the milky, sticky strings of your arousal as your pussy lips spread open for him. He has to swallow the excess saliva that pools in his cheeks at the sight. He wants to taste you so fucking badly.
“I think you liked it,” he taunts. “You’re makin’ a mess, you like being slapped around, don’t you? Treated like a little whore.”
Before you can respond he lays a hard smack on your other thigh. Your hips involuntarily buck upwards, your head falling back and a moaning, whimpering cry you don’t recognize as your own leaves your lips. You focus on your knees, fighting against your body’s instincts, keeping them pushed into the mattress.
“That’s what I thought,” he says as he kneels in front of you and yanks your ass to the edge of the bed. “Think you should get a reward now?”
“Y-yes, please, Joel. Please!” You have never had to beg for sex before, boys your age are usually fired up and ready to go, but men of Joel’s age know sex is so much more than just penetration - it’s a game, a tease.
He bites down on your thigh, “Please. Please, Joel!”
“You smell so fucking good,” he says as his hooked nose trails down your little line of pubic hair. You squirm under him as your clit twitches, aching for his attention. “And so goddamn wet. My little whore, aren’t ya?” His warm breath hits your needy clit and you flop down onto the bed, whining in need.
“Please -” but your words are cut off by the front door opening and Sarah’s voice calls through the house.
“Everyone can celebrate, I’m home now!!!” She yells jokingly.
“Fuck!” Joel huffs under his breath and bolts for his office, kicks your towel and swimsuit into your room, you follow and click your door shut quietly.
“Hello?” Sarah calls, heading up the stairs.
“Just getting dressed,” you call through your closed door. “I think your dad is in a meeting.”
“Put on your swimsuit, it’s gorgeous outside!”
Taglist
@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44
@keylimebeag @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot
@javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @akah565 @pinkiec6-rubi @pedroshotwifey
@lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog
@pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya
@iluvurfather @ashleyfilm @mermaidgirl30 @untamedheart81
#joel miller#joel miller tlou#pedro pascal#joel the last of us#joel tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel x reader#pedrohub#joel miller fanfiction#joel x oc#daddy joel#brat tamer or soft dom#dom!joel miller#joel x female reader#joel x f!reader#joel x y/n#joel x you#joel miller pedro pascal#joel miller x oc#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller the last of us#joel miller au#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller x female oc#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x original character#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you
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it would be sososo wonderful if you wrote a cute little blurb abt Spencer and fem!BAU!reader both coming into work with little doodles all over their arms and the team notices or something <3 (yes this is the same anon that sent the headcanon lol)
hii! i loved your headcanon and am so glad you requested this 💌
𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒔, spencer reid
spencer reid x fem!reader
you relationship with spencer is revealed when you both show up to work with doodles on your arms <3
warnings: none <3
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
Spencer reaches for the mug full of hot coffee, taking a generous sip. His button up feels almost immediately too hot, body warming up due to the hot beverage. He rolls up his sleeves without a second thought, arms covered in little doodles on full display to anyone in the bullpen who decides to look at them.
"Hey, pretty boy. Did you see- are those hearts?" Derek approaches his desk with a teasing smile already making it's way to his lips. Spencer scrambles to cover his arms up, clumsy pulling his sleeves down.
"Did i see what?" He feigns innocence, crossing his arms over his chest as he's way too nervous to actually button up the sleeves. There's no way he's going to out the relationship he's been hiding for a good few months because of some doodles.
"Oh no, you're not running away from this. Why have you got cute drawings all over your arms, uh?" He teases even further, trying to take a peek at the skin under Spencer's button up.
Your gaze immediately shoots up to them once you realize what Derek is referring to, quickly faking a normal expression once you realize your eyes have widened. You pretend to be looking at the files in your table, waiting for the answer. Your table is not far from his so you really have to keep it cool.
"I uh- i was bored and drew them." Spencer says the first excuse that comes to mind and realizes rather quickly how bad it sounds. His neck turns red and it soon spreads to his cheeks and ears too.
"You want me to believe you were bored and decided to draw hearts and butterflies on your arms? Sure, Reid." He chuckles, making sure to give him a hard time.
"Aw, does my sweet boy genius have a girlfriend?" Penelope snoops in, a less teasing and more bright smile on her lips.
"It sounds like he does. Unless he's suddenly ambidextrous and is able to draw perfect hearts on both of his arms." Emily comments, just as interested to make Spencer flustered as Derek.
"I- What if i am?!" Spencer's voice comes out a tad bit squeakier than intended, facade crumbling very easily. He looks at you almost desperately, trying to find a way out of this interrogation without having to reveal your relationship.
"Come on guys, leave the poor boy alone." Rossi saves him before you can, but he seems just as curious as the rest of them. Raised eyebrows and looking directly at him.
"Do you know anything about this, gorgeous?" Derek turns his gaze to you. Spencer gulps nervously, trying to act as normal as possible now that you're also about to be involved.
"Me? Why would i know?" You question a bit too defensively. Lying isn't exactly your forte and now that everyone is looking at you, it feels even harder.
"Wait- do i sense jealously?" It now feels like you're the next chosen victim to their interrogation. You might have aimed for careless but it definitely came off as defensive and bothered.
"You really don't." You roll your eyes as you answer, noticing the way Spencer gives you an apologetical look. You smile for long enough so that he notices but quick enough so no on else sees it.
"I think we do." Rossi agrees with Derek.
You sigh exasperatedly, hand coming to rub your forehead. What you don't notice is the way your shirt rids down, exposing your also covered arm.
"Oh my god- she has them too!" Penelope gasps, not holding back the surprise.
You wonder how they hadn't figured out you and Spencer are dating before. You both aren't exactly great liars and it was just a matter of time until someone caught one of your stollen kisses on the workplace.
"Oops?" You mutter out, cheeks painfully hot as you give up on trying to hide it. There's no way they would believe any kind of excuse now.
"Can't say i'm surprised." Emily is the first to say anything, leaving to go back to her desk as if nothing had happened.
"I'm so happy for you guys." Penelope ruffles Spencer's hair with a smile that's definitely making her cheeks hurt, while Derek resumes to shaking his head with a chuckle.
Spencer gives you a lopsided smile and you quickly realize he's trying to know if you're okay with all of it. You nod with a smile of your own, fingers tracing the doodles on your arm.
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
love you,
cat 🤍
#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#fluff#spencer reid x you
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THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )
REQUESTED**
summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.
warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)
a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)
@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog
in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.
it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.
but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.
he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.
despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.
that is, until now.
matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.
her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.
all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.
when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.
so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.
you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.
but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.
“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.
he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.
in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.
they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.
“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.
“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.
“snooze you lose.”
you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.
“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.
nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”
you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.
“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.
“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.
she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”
the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.
but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.
you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.
“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.
her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.
maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”
he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.
she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.
“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.
you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.
but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.
“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.
they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.
“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”
if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.
so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.
the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.
you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.
you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.
your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.
only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.
for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.
but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.
matt
i’m coming over
don’t bother saying no, im already on my way
that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.
your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.
your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.
you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.
and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.
impatient motherfucker.
you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.
he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.
“matt—”
you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.
he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.
plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.
all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.
matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.
his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.
you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.
in this moment, he’s yours.
his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.
one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.
“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.
your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.
“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.
the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.
you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.
“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.
matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.
“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.
“keep going.” you plead.
you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.
matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.
he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”
his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.
he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.
“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”
you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.
he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.
matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.
he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.
“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.
the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.
he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.
“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.
you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.
his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.
then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.
“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.
he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.
before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.
he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.
“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.
then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.
you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.
you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.
“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.
matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.
he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.
“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.
his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.
you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.
“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.
you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.
matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.
“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.
he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.
never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.
you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.
the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.
“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.
he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.
“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”
you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.
he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.
that was completely worth the mess.
your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.
but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.
he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”
you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.
“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.
matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.
“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.
he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.
his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.
“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.
it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.
“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.
“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#Spotify#matt sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic#fanfic
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saw ur post about all the angsty requests and i simply cannot let that happen so may i present my request of the lovely barty:
slytherin is throwing a party and barty is already there when reader gets there late but they can’t find each other bc it’s so crowded. but junior being, well him, he’s loud and brash and so some that’s a bad thing but to reader it’s so perfect.
i can imagine him standing on a table, maybe drunk, singing at the top of his lungs for his lovely treasure (reader) and when r does find him, they give him a light hearted scolding but thank him for always finding them in every crowd.
i love barty so much and when i imagine him in love, he’s IN LOVE and he’s so loud about it and it’s just perfect
- 🐈⬛
if nobody else has my back, i know komi has my back 🙏👯♀️ just a silly little drabble with our best boy
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, alcohol (firewhiskey), reference to smoking, slytherin party, pda, barty pov (so max chaotic energy), romanian!barty, kissing<3, slytherin skittles shenanigans all around
"You know, Junior," Dorcas drawled from where she was leaning against Marlene as one might lean on a wall. "You're supposed to at least pretend to enjoy spending time with your friends."
"Oh, come off it, Cassie," Barty replied while still not looking at her. His face was turned towards the ever-growing crowd in the Slytherin common room, eyes scanning. "You know I'd die for ya."
She mumbled something into her drink that Barty didn't quite catch, but Marlene apparently found hilarious.
"What's got him in a tizzy?" Regulus asked absentmindedly. Barty hadn't even noticed him reappear, but the sounds of liquids swishing revealed it was likely to get a drink and not to spend time with his lovely friends. Dorcas should really be scolding him.
"Y/N's not here yet." Marlene supplied it so matter-of-factly you might not have realised she is a recent addition to the group via Dorcas. Barty did not much care for her yet – but she wasn't wrong.
The two of you always attended parties together. Always had, since the first time Barty all but dragged you along and you found that you actually quite enjoyed them, as long as he was by your side. It had inflated Barty’s ego beyond what it probably needed to – according to Regulus, at least – but more importantly, it was one of the things that first made him feel secure in your relationship. Wanted, needed.
Barty was also at the point where he did not enjoy anything particularly much if you were not there. He could do shots with Evan and rile Dorcas up into picking on Regulus with him, but it didn’t give him that same buzz that ran over his exposed skin. Didn’t make his dead heart beat.
Tonight, though, for the traditional half-term rager thrown sloppily together in Slytherin, you were running late. By some terrible coincidence, you had your prefect rounds the same day, and could not get ready with Barty like you usually did.
He was left standing by the drinks table so that you could easily spot him whenever you returned – but as more and more people streamed in, your face was not among them. And the more crowded the room got, the rowdier it became, and Barty no longer had a clear sight of the entry.
You could be here and he might not know. That just wouldn’t do.
“Hate to agree with the lion, but she’s right,” he announced then, clapping his hands together as he turned to his audience. Otherwise known as his friends and their mostly uninterested gazes. “My darling sweet angel, light of my life and yours is not here yet, and we need to do something about it.”
Regulus and Dorcas shared a look through bitten-back smiles. “And why is she not here?” Regulus asked, perhaps to avoid the last part of Barty's sentence.
“She has the audacity to follow rules and regulations,” Barty said with a straight face.
Regulus looked back to Dorcas for a translation. “Prefect rounds.” He rolled his eyes at that, a fellow abider of rules and regulations apparently.
“Being the attentive individual she is, she likely overextended her help and ran late. And now there’s too many people here for me to spot her.” Barty spoke slowly, like he was spelling it out for children. Regulus’ huffing was becoming too frequent and petulant for his current taste. “So. Desperate times?”
He trailed off the end of his sentence, looking to Dorcas to complete it. Instead she asked, “What desperate measures are you aiming at here, B?”
A Cheshire cat grin split Barty’s face in half. “So glad you asked, my dear Dorc.”
Marlene winced and tightened her hold on Dorcas who had already opened her mouth, no doubt to tell him where to shove that nickname, but Barty was already backing away from the trio with his arms spread out wide.
He bodily pushed at a few fifth years standing around a table to make room for him to jump onto it, with no regard for the card game he was disrupting. The table was wobbly, but it carried Barty’s weight with no problem. From this new height, he could see most of the room clearly, eagle-like gaze already working overtime to see if there was a you to locate there yet.
Regulus walked up to stand in front of him on the ground. Barty grinned down at him questioning.
“Joining me, Reggie boy?”
“You wish.” Regulus moved his grip on a flask of firewhiskey to underneath it, so he could most effectively lift it up towards Barty without spilling any. “If you’re on tables already, you ought to have more in your system.”
“What a terrible influence you are, Black. I’m writing straight home to Walburga.” Immediately after his quip, Barty brought the flask to his lips, chugging, while Regulus rolled his eyes in a way that simply must be painful.
Cheers from around Barty erupted at his very visible drinking, some already pissed students yelling chug, chug, chug. What can he say, Barty’s never one to back down from a challenge.
With an audible pop, he released the bottle from his lips and howled obnoxiously. He could hear Marlene yell a “yeah!” from behind him.
Maybe she wasn’t that bad.
Then, Barty at the top of his burning lungs yelled. “Y/N?! Dragă?!”
No answer. Or, well, no answer from you. Some stupid sods tried to respond, as if he’d ever call them darling.
“Oi! What are you on about?” Some bloke yelled at him from the opposite wall.
“Looking for my bird, you prick!”
This earned him several wolf-whistles and hollers, which he promptly neglected as he turned around on the table, to no avail. He did not find you – but he had not exhausted the room in his search either. He still could not see every corner.
Using his thumb as a makeshift cap for the bottle, Barty cast a spell to move a table in the middle of the room closer to him while mid-leap towards it. His feet just barely hit the end of it, screech-laughing throughout his entire flight.
This earned him even more hoots and hollers. Barty would be feeling quite chuffed if it wasn’t for your remaining status as missing. He took a few more swings of the bottle while his hungry eyes swept over all the heads.
Then, the room must have lit up, because at last he saw you. Standing near the fireplace, squished between several other partiers, trying to gain your own bearings and locate your people.
“Dragă!”
Your head snapped up at Barty’s nickname for you, and the sweetest, most kissable smile spread across your lips. Oh, how Barty needed you to get your arse over here this instant.
He jumped off the table while punching the air in success, manhandling his way through the crowd towards where he now knew you to be. Smartly, you remained put, but your arms were opened for him by the time he got to you.
Swooping in, he abandoned the flask in favour of circling his arms around your waist and spinning you around, relishing in the giggles that escaped you.
“Buburuză, I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He spoke into your neck, breathing you in, before pulling away enough to see your face. His smile must be blinding.
“The other prefect didn’t show, so I had double the amount of work,” you said simply, as if that was not an egregious crime against the loveliest prefect there was.
He opened his mouth to say as much, but you cut him off with a kiss, lips curled against his. Barty couldn’t help but sigh happily into you.
“Which can be dealt with later,” you said pointedly once you felt you had mollified him enough with your kisses. “For now, it seems I have to catch up with you. Starting without me?” Whether you had seen the bottle or smelled it on his breath he did not know, he just wanted you to keep talking.
The teasing tone in your voice did something funny to his stomach. “Entirely Reggie’s fault – extensive peer pressure, I tell you. I have Dorcas as my witness.” He nodded solemnly, as if he was presenting his case for a judge.
You shook your head at him and breathed a laughter against his lips as you kissed him again. He surely tasted of firewhiskey and the smoke he had earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind – he loved you all the more for it.
“Come now, there is something we need to do,” he said the second you pulled apart. One of his hands found yours while his other settled around your waist, hooking his thumb in your waistband.
You furrowed your brows in confused entertainment, but let him lead you through the crowd towards the table in the middle that he abandoned earlier.
“Barty, what–” you tried to ask, but he tightened his grip around your waist and used it to lift you, abusing a poor chair as a stepping stone to get the two of you on top of the table once more.
Before you could question him, he spun you around like a trophy and shouted above the music, “I FOUND HER!”, victory evident in his tone.
This time, the wolf-whistles and hollers were even louder, some students stomping their feet to create a drumming sound. You flushed under the attention, melting impossibly further into Barty’s side, but laughter spilled over your lips, albeit nervously. When he looked down, he found you beaming at him.
He knew himself to look twice as lovestruck as you, but he was happy to report that that was saying something.
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” came the chants from the crowd then.
When a brief once-over of you showed no discomfort despite your light embarrassment – you were growing rapidly immune to that through your relationship – he figured, who was he to argue with a drunken room?
He swept you into a deep and passionate kiss, bending you slightly backward with his wide hands splayed across your back.
“Now that I’m reunited with my love, what do you say we get the party properly started, yeah?”
#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#barty#barty crouch jr fic#barty crouch jr fanfic#barty crouch jr drabble#barty crouch jr fluff#barty crouch jr imagine#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#barty crouch jr x y/n#barty crouch junior fic#barty crouch junior fanfic#barty crouch junior fluff#barty crouch junior drabble#barty crouch junior x reader#barty crouch junior x you#barty crouch junior x y/n#barty crouch junior imagine#romanian!barty#slytherin skittles#the slytherin skittles#slytherin skittles x reader#slytherin skittles x you#slytherin skittles x y/n#slytherin skittles fic#slytherin skittles drabble#the emeralds#emeralds#the emeralds x reader
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Petnames with stray Kids
Pairing: skz!ot8 × Gn!reader (individually)
Genre: fluff, headcanons
Synopsis: which pet name would the stray kids boys use when referring to you
Warnings: mentions of food in Seungmin and Lee Know's, I think that's it
A/n: I had this idea for a while but only wrote it now. Hope you all like it <3 | 1k event
Chan
I've said it before and I'll say it again, he would call you by a pet name in your language. However, if he had to choose an English one, it would probably be "baby". It's something that he finds endearing and at the same time it shows his protective side.
"I miss you [ ]. Just a few more months and I will be back home."
Lee Know
I believe he would call you something in his language. It's the idiom he learnt first, the one he carries more meaning. He might not be the best with words but he wants you to be sure that he loves you, so he always tries to call you something that comes deep for him
"Have you eaten already yeobo? I just cooked some lunch, I can bring it to you."
Changbin
"Babe." I am a firm believer that he has thousands of pet names for you, going from the sweetest to the cringiest ones in a matter of seconds, but babe would probably be his favourite. It's neutral to anyone who listens to it, however it seems special every time it's between the two of you. It's perfect.
"Babe, are you free tonight? I thought we could go on a date."
Hyunjin
He has a big vocabulary of petnames, but they all start with "my". My love, my angel, my dearest and the list goes on. He doesn't even want to be possessive about it, it's just that this was the way he found to express how important you are to him.
"My love, are you coming to practice today? I really wanted you to see our rehearsal, I think you will like it."
Han
"Darling". I know it's kinda a consensus that he would call you "baby" but bro calls everyone that 😭 I believe he would like you to be different. Darling is something that still sounds like him but also has a greater meaning (you).
"I'm almost finishing this track. Would you like to listen to it darling?"
Felix
Calls you "angel". He thinks it's only fair that he portrays you well, and no other word could do you justice. Besides that, I think he would also call you a nickname, a variant from your own name that no one has ever called you before. Nothing else could be more you than that, but it's also something that would be exclusive to the two of you.
"Angel, my mom is on the phone. She said she misses you."
Seungmin
"Honey". It's just so sweet and light, so he thinks that it matches you very well. I don't think he would be the type to say petnames all the time but when it does happen, it's always the cutest things that leave his mouth.
"Honey, I'm on my way home. Do you want me to bring dinner?"
I.N
He's another one who I think would call you a Korean pet name, but for different reasons than Lee Know. It's probably because Korean is his mother language, so it feels more like home. And at this point, you are his home.
"Jagi have you seen my silver ring? The big one?"
Masterlist | you'll probably like: first relationships with skz
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
Taglist: @yuyubeans
Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated <3
#celi headcanon#stray kids#skz fluff#skz#stray kids fluff#stray kids soft hours#stray kids soft thoughts#skz x reader#skz x you#stray kids x reader#bang chan#bang chan fluff#lee know#lee know fluff#Changbin#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff#hyunjin#han#han fluff#felix#felix fluff#seungmin#seungmin fluff#i.n#i.n fluff#jeongin fluff
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1. The Unicorn | nanny!yn
Unicorn: An individual who is willing to join an existing romantic relationship. Usually a bisexual female.
Summary: You nanny for the Styles, but Harry and his wife would like to offer you another position.
A/N: This will be 3 parts. Based on this and this.
Word Count: 5.9k
Warning: 18+ only, smut (fingering)
The Unicorn Masterlist
“She’s perfect, Harry.” His wife watched out of the window as you walked to your car parked in front of their house.
“I don’t know. She’s taking care of the kids every day while we’re at work. How does that make her perfect?”
“Because look at her! And she’s so sweet and I just have a sense for these things. She acts all shy and innocent but I bet she’s kinky under it all. And haven’t you seen the way she looks at you?”
He had noticed your glances. The placement of your gaze over his frame. But Harry never thought too deeply about it. Not really. Though he kind of liked that you couldn’t help from dropping your gaze to his lips and then down over his shoulders and mid-torso until every time you breezed your pupils over the natural protrusion at the front of his crotch you were suddenly quickly reminded of what you were doing and bounced your head back just the tiniest bit to correct your sight to the more appropriate height.
But just because you were cute and couldn’t help when your eyes skimmed over his cock with the quickest peek didn’t mean you were perfect to invite into the bedroom with him and his wife. He was hesitant to find a third. He knew that it was unlikely this would end well but his wife had been begging him for it.
Kit was bisexual and once she married Harry, she learned that she often missed the more feminine touches and pretty soft curves. Someone more submissive. It had been almost 8 years since she’d slept with a woman so when she offered a threesome to Harry, she thought he’d jump right at the opportunity but instead, he was worried.
“I think this is a bad idea no matter who it is, but having it be the nanny is like…” he ran a ringed-clad hand through his hair, “… the worst. What if you don’t like seeing me with another woman? Or if I hate seeing you kiss anyone else? I don’t know if I can handle this. And poor Y/n is then stuck in the middle.”
“Harry,” she turned to him and put her hand on his forearm, “You and I are solid. I trust you and you trust me. I know you can handle this. Just the same as I can. I think this will be really good for us. Probably will just make us insatiable for each other. I’m already getting so turned on just thinking about watching you with her. And just imagine it, Harry, having us both laid out, spread legs…” She smoothed a hand up his arm and to the back of his neck, pressing herself close to his body, “You dip into her for a few thrusts and then pull out and—“
“Mom, can I have ice cream? Y/n said I had to wait til you and Dad were home.”
Harry and his wife laughed at the timing. They’d be returning to their conversation later.
. . .
You arrived bright and early Monday morning as requested. You loved nannying for the Styles. Mrs. Styles was so kind to you. She always made sure you had everything you needed and Mr. Styles was funny and easygoing. Plus the twins were a dream. You loved William and Warner as if they were your own.
“Morning, Y/n,” Mr. Styles smiled warmly at you as he opened the door. Warner walked up to you and hugged you. He was the one that liked hugs a lot.
“Morning Mr. Styles…” you laughed and patted Warner’s back, “and you too Warner.”
Mr. and Mrs. Styles left for work not long after but before they left they both asked you if you could stay after work that night. Mrs. Styles would make dinner and the three of you could have a glass of wine and chat a bit after the kids were put to bed.
Of course, you said you’d love to. Though you had kind of been looking forward to going home and watching your show, you wouldn’t mind having dinner with the Styles. The truth was you found Mr. Styles extremely attractive. He was the hottest guy you’d ever seen. He was married so he was obviously off limits but that didn’t stop your brain from short-circuiting every time you were near him.
And because of the way Mrs. Styles acted around you, almost flirty, you sort of had a crush on her too. You were interested in women but had never dated one. You’d only ever been in a couple of real relationships. You were too shy to approach people you found attractive so your pool of potential dates had been low.
So yeah, you’d accept their invitation for dinner.
. . .
“William made a picture today,” you rattled off a few things the boys did. The picture William drew was too cute and he even drew you in between Mr. and Mrs. Styles like you were part of the family.
He held it up proudly and Harry took it and pointed at the figure that was supposed to be you, “Who’s this, Will?”
“It’s Y/n,” he gestured to you.
Harry smiled at William and said how nice it was as he handed the paper back to him. He looked at you for a moment that felt a little warm and lingering before Mrs. Styles brought out the hot pan with food to the table.
When the table had grown quiet as everyone began to eat you wanted to remind Warner to tell his dad that he’d finally gotten the part down on the piano that Harry was teaching him.
“Warner, remember what you were supposed to tell Daddy today?”
When you looked at Harry with a smile you noticed the slightly surprised look on his face but by then it was too late. You hadn’t meant to let the word Daddy slip out like that. If you’d been thinking you’d have said “… supposed to tell your dad today?” Even the twins didn’t call Harry Daddy anymore.
And of course, Warner was already excitedly telling Harry about the part he’d learned on the piano before you could correct it. You hoped no one thought anything of it and while you’d fantasized about calling him Daddy a time or two, you really didn’t mean to say it out loud.
Darting your eyes from Harry to his wife you saw nothing from her at all as a reaction to your misspeak.
Luckily no one seemed bothered by it but you could tell Harry thought something by the surprised smile on his face.
You loved watching the boys interact with their parents. And being able to see it during dinner and then after clean up until they were in their beds with books to read quietly felt special.
Harry, his wife, and you sat in the living room with a bottle of wine. Mrs. Styles sat next to you and she started doing that thing where she looks at you in that way that gets your heart pounding and raises your temperature.
With her hand on your upper arm, she gushed about how much she and Harry loved you. How great of a nanny you were and how lucky they were to have found you.
Harry sat across from the couch in a leather armchair and watched you and Kit with a more solemn look on his face. He nodded at the end of his wife’s praise for you as he looked at you directly. You felt a shiver up your spine at the intensity of his eyes. But it wasn’t just that. There was something so formidable about him. Like he was governing over the moment. He was still Mr. Styles but with an edge of something uncertain. Darker.
You looked back at Mrs. Styles and smiled shyly, “Thank you. So much. I’m really happy to be working for you. And the twins are just amazing. I feel so lucky too.”
Kit’s hand smoothed down your forearm until she softly pushed her fingers through yours. She was sitting with her legs tucked under herself, feet on the couch, and knees angled toward you.
“Honey, you’re coming on too strong,” Harry chided his wife.
“No, I’m not. I’m just being friendly. Y/n is so sweet. I just…” she looked at you, “You don’t mind this do you?”
You loved the way she was looking at you. If you didn’t know any better you’d say she was hitting on you. That had to be wrong, though. Her husband was right there watching you two.
“It’s fine. I know you’re just being friendly.”
Harry laughed and shook his head and spoke his wife’s name in a warning, “Kit. Are you sure you want to do this?”
You looked between the pair. A little confused about what they were talking about. You didn’t know if you’d missed some dialogue somewhere or what but you were definitely picking up a vibe between them.
“If she’s up for it then yes, I’m sure.”
“Up for what?” You questioned them both.
Harry raised his brows and looked at his wife, “I’ll let you do the honors.”
Her hand squeezed at yours gently, bringing your attention back to her. Her other hand brushed over your knee with the tip of her fingers casually, “We think you’re very sweet and pretty, Y/n.” Kit began.
You kept your eyes on hers the best you could but she’d been wearing a low-cut dress and, not unlike the times you dropped your gaze to Harry’s crotch, you couldn’t help peeking at her cleavage with the same attempted deftness.
“And we think you might be fun to…” she paused and looked at Harry, who nodded at her to go on, “Have in bed. For us to share.”
You looked down at where Mrs. Styles was grazing your kneecap with her fingertip and whispered, “To share.”
That was quite a lot. If what she was saying was what you thought she was saying then you’d have to determine if it was worth it.
“You don’t have to say yes, Y/n.” Harry chimed in, “I know you’re a really sweet girl and you don’t want to disappoint anyone but if you tell us no we won’t be upset. You won’t lose your job.”
You were thankful he said that. It had flashed across your mind the idea that if you said no they might not want to keep you around.
“So, you’re like asking me to have a…” you gulped and looked between Harry and his wife, “like a threesome with you?”
“Yes. You don’t have to decide right now. And like Harry said, you don’t have to say yes. We just both find you very appealing and sweet. We’re very much attracted to you too and we trust you. I think we’d all work well together. It could be just a one-time thing or maybe it could be something we do regularly.”
The subject was changed shortly after. They’d done their part. They’d asked you what you thought and now the ball was in your court. You had to figure out what you wanted. Which made it hard to participate in the rest of the conversation. You tried but your brain was having a hard time moving past the things your imagination was coming up with.
“I hope you don’t feel weird after this. No rush to make a decision. Seriously.” Mrs. Styles smiled softly at you as she drew her fingers from the side of your jaw to under your chin delicately.
“Thank you. I just need some time to think.”
She leaned in and kissed your cheek as Harry stood behind her with his hand on her shoulder.
When you’d all finished the bottle of wine Harry and Kit walked you to the door. You still didn’t know what you wanted exactly. In a fun fantasy world (which you’d definitely be visiting in your imagination that night) it would be amazing. To have them both? Yes. That sounded so good. But the reality of it wouldn’t be that easy you knew. Would it be awkward to work for them after? And what if you did some kind of arrangement with them as their… what was it called? A unicorn?
You felt breathless as you got into your car. You hadn’t had all that much wine. A glass and a half. The bottle was split between all three of you so none of you had gotten even close to drunk but you felt all buzzy. And even turned on. The idea of what they were offering sounded like a dream. But maybe that’s how it should remain. Just a dream. A fantasy.
. . .
The following day everything seemed normal. The Styles acted as if they hadn’t just asked if you’d want to have a threesome with them. It felt surreal. Like perhaps it never happened.
But when Harry arrived home first after work you felt like something about him was different. That’s when the cracks started forming. That morning he was friendly like he always was. But now he was brooding. His eyes were heavy on you. As if he was now looking at you differently.
He listened to William and Warner tell him about their day but you felt his eyes singing you as he kept looking your way. You felt intimidated by him suddenly and looking at him in increments longer than a few seconds felt like you’d dissolve.
He walked you to the door after you said goodbye to the boys and held the handle tight before turning it, “You wouldn’t want to stay for a drink would you?”
The way he asked you felt less like a question and more like a reminder to you of what was still left on the table. It was a reaffirmation of what was suggested the night before. It was real. It had happened and he was here to remind you.
You looked down at his hand grasped around his door handle and back up to him. You were compelled to say yes as you began to nod, “Yes. Okay.”
You felt nervous. Harry’s grin looked like he was pleased by your answer.
The boys were playing in their room as he poured you a glass of wine.
“When will Mrs. Styles come home?” It was rare that they weren’t home at nearly the same time after work.
“She’s going out with a friend tonight. She’ll be late. I thought you and I could get to know one another a little better. She knows I planned on asking you to stay. I’m glad you did.”
You nodded and felt your nerves only grow. Alone time with Mr. Styles wasn’t something that ever really happened much. Normally Harry was with his wife when he discussed anything with you.
You both sat on the large couch in the living room as Harry lifted his glass toward yours, clinking them together.
“So, what are your plans this weekend?” Harry had one leg draped over his other casually as he looked down at you.
“Uh… I don’t have any. Normally I just make last-minute plans with friends,” you squirmed in your spot at the way he was consuming you with his eyes.
“Maybe if you find you’re free you could come over Saturday afternoon. The kids will be staying with their grandparents. Kit will be making something special for dinner.”
“Oh, that sounds nice. Yeah. I mean, as long as it’s not imposing,” you were growing hot. Your palms were sweating. Harry was so attractive it was making your body weak. You honestly didn’t care what would be made for dinner but you were curious about where the night might lead if you did wind up in their house without their kids around all night.
“Of course, you wouldn’t be imposing. You’d be the guest of honor,” Harry’s arm slid over the back of the cushion behind you, and you gulped nervously.
“Oh, that’s…” you breathed out a jittery laugh, “… not necessary. No need to do anything special for me.”
“I hope you know that anything that happens, we’d always make it special for you, Y/n. We want you to feel comfortable.”
You could feel the temperature around your body rise with his proximity. You had noted how he’d inched his way a bit closer.
“Thank you, Harry. You and Mrs. Styles are always so nice to me.”
You were visibly nervous. Harry could see it too.
His wife had suggested that he invite you to stay for a drink and more if you allowed it. She really wanted to try any angle to get you to say yes to their offer. She figured if you were alone with Harry for a bit maybe you’d feel more comfortable. So, Harry was working on just that. And the more he thought about you and his wife’s convincing argument to bring in a third, he found he was more and more into the idea.
Plus you were simply the sweetest thing. He could see that you were a little timid and somehow that made his body respond to you in a way he hadn’t felt in a while. It set his blood to a low boil. His wife was lovely. Amazing in bed but it was true that with her there was something missing. He rarely got the opportunity to dominate his wife and really release his natural inclination to flex his prowess with her. Because she was dominant as well. And Harry didn’t mind it for the most part. But he missed certain things.
“We’d like to be more than just nice to you, darling,” his fingers behind you softly brushed against your neck and you inhaled shallowly at the contact. “But you already know what we want. How about you? What do you want, Y/n?”
You fluttered your eyes closed for a moment as you felt the pad of Harry’s thumb slide up your neck. Harry’s cologne and his natural scent were so appealing. You turned to look at him and worked up your nerve, “I think it sounds really fun. The offer. I’ve never been with a woman.”
He licked his lips, “You’ve experienced men, then, yeah?”
You nodded. You were sure he could see you physically melt.
“What do you like, Y/n?”
You had not expected the conversation to go this way, “I don’t… I’m not sure. I’ve not really done a lot. Nothing too crazy,” you laughed your words in embarrassment.
Harry’s soft petting on your neck continued, “That’s okay. We can figure it out as we go. To be honest, we’ve never done anything like this either.”
“And Mrs. Styles? Has she been with women?”
Harry nodded, “Yes. This was her idea actually. She’s been missing a feminine presence in bed.”
You felt the trickle of lust and carnal need swell in your body as Harry drew his free hand across his body and to your knee, “Is this okay?”
You nodded, keeping your eyes on his. You wanted to lean forward and grab your glass of wine and gulp the whole thing in one go but you wouldn’t dare break from his hold. It was intimate and having his hands on you was satisfying.
Harry looked toward the hallway and then back to you, “I’d like to kiss you. Y/n. Are you comfortable with letting me kiss you?”
His lips felt like they’d burst into flames if he didn’t press them into yours. But he couldn’t do that in front of the twins because he knew that once he felt your mouth and your tongue he was going to want more and if you were open to it he’d take it even further. His wife had given him permission as long as he was discreet (not in front of the boys). No sex without her present but some heavy petting and fingering were fine.
“Okay,” you breathed and expected him to kiss you right then as you braced yourself.
“Yeah?” He squeezed your thigh and tilted his head as he looked down over your body, “Go into my bedroom. I’ll be right there.”
You were shaky as you stood up and watched Harry walk away to talk to the twins in their room. The boys were old enough that they’d play by themselves just fine, you knew. You lifted your glass of wine to your lips and gulped half at once. You couldn’t even remember walking to the master bedroom upstairs. Your mind was a swirl of what-ifs and scenarios and questions.
“Are you okay?” Harry said as he closed the door behind himself. Everything was happening in slow motion. You were trying not to feel so floaty and far away but you couldn’t help it. Your experience with sex had been minimal and you certainly had never pictured yourself as part of this situation.
“I’m just nervous. I’m always like this the first time…” You swallowed and looked at the edge of the dresser against the wall.
“That’s okay,” Harry stepped in front of you and rubbed his hands down your arms, “I’m a little nervous too but I really want to kiss you. Just didn’t want the boys to see.”
You nodded in understanding, “And it’s okay with Mrs. Styles?”
His hands slowly grazed up your arms to your shoulders and then around to the back of your neck and head, “Her idea. But in all honesty, I want to kiss you. Feel like I need to.”
Blinking your eyes you raised your arms to hold onto his biceps as you kept your eyes pinned to his. He was solid under your hand. Of course, he was. You knew Mr. Styles was fit and you’d seen him in shorts and t-shirts and once glimpsed his pecs. You knew he had tattoos.
But when he finally nudged his nose to yours and his hot lips wrapped around your mouth everything went from being slow motion and blurry to high speed and heart pounding. You couldn’t get enough of his mouth and his tongue and you gripped his arms until he’d practically lifted you off your feet and pulled you to his bed.
His kisses were wet and warm and he moaned into your mouth. He was ravenous. It made you feel like a seductress, like he craved you.
You were across his lap and twisted to face him with your arms over his shoulders and your tongue pressed to his when he cupped your face and parted from the kiss.
“Y/n… Fuck honey…” he dabbed a kiss to your jaw and then looked back at you, “Can I get your pants off? Make you feel good? No sex tonight,” his words were deep and thick, “That’s for Saturday. But for now,” he ran a hand up your thigh up to your hip, “I can give you a preview with my fingers. If you want.”
“Yes, Harry,” you breathed your words and tried to lean back in for another kiss but he kept you at a distance, his hands on your jaw and fingers cradling the back of your head.
“I really liked it when you referred to me as Daddy last night. Will you do that for me again, honey?”
See. That was the thing. You already thought of him as Daddy. In all your private fantasies you called him Daddy. But it made you nervous because you fantasized about Harry far more than you ever did his wife. Kit was beautiful and she was definitely your type but Harry dominated your secret daydreams. So it would be easy for you to call him Daddy. But it worried you when it came to having his wife included in that dynamic.
“Is that okay? I mean,” you sighed breathily, “Will Mrs. Styles be okay if I call you Daddy?”
“I don’t think she’ll mind,” Harry licked his lips, “Tell you what. Tonight, call me Daddy because I want to hear your sweet voice say it when I finger you, okay? I’ll talk to her and let her know I asked you to and I think she won’t care but if she doesn’t like it we won’t do it again.”
You nodded. Daddy it was. That would be easy.
Harry brought an arm to your low back and leaned you down onto his bed. The bed he shared with his wife. With his knees dug into the bed next to your hip he loomed over you and brought a gentle hand up to the front of your neck and pressed, “How does this feel? Is this okay?”
It was a first for you. To have someone’s hand on your throat. It was a surprise. But the good kind. You loved how small it made you feel and how powerless. You knew if you asked him to remove his hand he would but the notion that you were physically relinquishing your power to him was so hot to you somehow.
“It’s good,” you breathed just before he inched down to kiss you again.
It felt absolutely nuts what you were doing. Making out with your boss, a married man, in his bedroom while his wife who was away gave him permission and even encouraged this situation.
Harry’s hand slid off of your neck and down your t-shirt, “Can we take this off? All of it? So I can see you?”
You nodded, “Yes,” and sat up so you could pull your shirt over your head. Harry unbuttoned his own and watched you unzip your pants and tuck your fingers inside the waistband before lifting your bum to pull them down your legs.
With his shirt unbuttoned you saw more tattoos. You’d paused for just a moment when you took note of his bare chest and abs.
Harry got to his knees and leaned over you, his hands on either side of your hips, “Do you need help with this?”
He put his hands over yours where you were grasping your waistband and helped you pull them off your legs.
His hands found your calves as he looked at you, “You’re so pretty, Y/n. Take your bra off.”
So you did. Unhooking the back and letting the front fall down your arms. Harry’s hands found their spot on either side of your hips again as he softly kissed each of your nipples, “Beautiful. Can I take your panties off?” His fingers were already dancing over the fabric of your waistband, knowing you’d be saying yes.
You gulped and nodded as he dragged the material down your legs, rendering you completely nude. Harry let out a breath as he raked his eyes over skin and curve and freckle.
Harry lay next to you and took your hand in his, bringing it up between you on the mattress, “You still doing okay, Y/n?”
You were feeling very vulnerable and insane for laying completely naked next to him but still you nodded. Because you wanted more of what he was doing.
You rolled to face him on your side when he smeared his mouth over yours. Letting go of your hand he moved his fingers down over your side to your hip and then upper thigh just at the curve of your ass. He squeezed softly but enough that you could feel his big palm grasping your flesh. You lifted your thigh to mantle his hip out of instinct and his palm spread out over the globe of your cheek.
“Want my fingers, honey?”
The way the tips of his fingers were grazing so close to your pussy with your leg draped over him you were losing your mind. All he had to do was lower an inch and he’d feel your wetness.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Harry moaned and moved his head back to look at you, “Oh I really like how that sounds. Let’s have a look then,” he ran his hand over your hip to the front of your tummy as he moved back the tiniest bit to press his fingers over your mound. Slowly his fingers lowered until he met soft wet lips. He breathed in through his teeth, “You all wet for Daddy?”
The smile on his face was cocky but you loved it.
“Yes,” you bit your lip.
With his eyes on yours, he parted your labia with two fingers and slowly ran them down to your opening and then back up until he bumped your clit and pressed over that. You moaned softly.
He was easy with his fingers on you as he kept slipping them up and down, pushing your arousal through your crease and getting his fingers coated.
When he captured your lips in his again you felt him prodding at your entrance. You sucked his tongue into your mouth and he pressed two fingers inside as you grasped onto his shoulder.
You groaned as he fingered you and fixated on the spongy dip inside. You bucked into his hand, “There we go. Feels good doesn’t it?”
You panted yesssss.
The sloppy noises that were coming from between your legs would have been embarrassing if it didn’t feel so good.
“Please,” you breathed as you lowered your hand to his hip, “I wanna see.”
Harry kept thrusting into you with his fingers while his thumb smoothed against your clit, “You can on Saturday, baby. For now, this is all about you.”
You whined and closed your watery eyes as he began to fuck into you faster. His palm was a sticky mess. You raised your hip and rutted into his hand harder.
“You’re gonna grip me so tight and I’m gonna push inside you deep,” he punctuated his words with his thrusts, “Have you creaming all over my cock.”
Your groans grew louder as he pasted his mouth to your neck and you felt the warm press of his tongue on your skin, his curls brushing against your jaw. He shifted so that suddenly you were on your back and he was on his side with his fingers still inside of you, lips on your breasts.
He felt so good and you were already so caught up in the way he was making you feel you’d all but forgotten that this man was married and he was your boss. This was better than your fantasies. He was more confident and a lot more dominant in reality. And just sweet enough that you felt safe.
Harry lifted upward slightly, still pumping his fingers through you causing you to let out a small squeal. You felt his hand cover your mouth and you peeled your eyes open as he lowered his lips to your tits, his fingers plowing through your walls. You were being too loud.
He peered up at you with his tongue gliding over your nipple, his shoulder flexing with each thrust of his arm. Yes, this was definitely better than fantasy. Because it was happening and it felt so good.
You felt his lips slip off the skin of your nipple, “If I take my hand off, you gonna keep quiet?”
Nodding your head you softly moaned into his hand. He pulled his hand away from your mouth and leaned over you to kiss your mouth. Softly at first. It felt like candy-flavored pink sparkle dust magic with his warm lips smoothing against yours, and his nose mushing into your nose.
“Daddy, please…” you breathed as he lifted himself to look down at you.
“What baby?” The sound of your wet pussy getting fingered was the backdrop of you beginning to unravel.
“M’gonna come… Daddy, ffuu– ohhh!” Your mouth was quickly covered again when your volume grew even louder than it had been. You heard Harry softly chuckle just as you clenched around his fingers and grasped his forearm, your neck stretched over the pillow as you arched your back.
Harry looked down at his hand and groaned at how your pussy was devouring his fingers. He couldn’t wait to see what his cock would look like sinking into your perfect cunt. And he thought you were pretty when you orgasmed. He was sure he’d want to make you come over and over again if his wife wasn’t too greedy with you.
“Such a good little girl, Y/n. There you go, baby.” He smirked at you, his fingers still slipping into you, squelching when he buried them in all the way.
“This what you needed? Needed to come on Daddy’s fingers?” Your soft moan was muffled as you finally set your gaze back on Harry who was already looking at you.
“Just imagine how good it’s gonna feel on my cock.” He slid his thumb over your clit and you jolted from sensitivity.
Harry took his hand off your mouth and slowly pulled his fingers from your pussy as he sat back, stuffing his fingers into his mouth to taste you. He could smell your pussy as he was fingering you and couldn’t wait to get a taste.
Popping his fingers out of his mouth he caged you into your spot on the mattress, hovering over you, “How was that?”
“So good,” you were still taking in labored breaths.
His mouth encased yours once again. His kiss was lustful and fiery. You could smell yourself when he cradled your head, his fingers, still damp with you, swiping into strands of your hair.
A deep moan fell from his chest and you pulled your arms over his shoulders and the cotton of his shirt. Your body began to ignite again just before he parted from your mouth with a gasp.
“I’m sorry. Got carried away. Your lips are so sweet,” his voice was deep and breathy. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” you nodded and smiled.
Harry insisted on helping you clean up. First, you peed but then he came in and wet a towel to help wipe you and talk to make sure you were okay.
You could tell he had a boner. The front of his trousers was bulged in an obvious way. His pupils were dark and his skin was hot. And you would have loved to have him use you however he wanted to take care of himself but you wouldn’t go against his Kit’s wishes.
“So, Saturday? You sure you want to come over?” Harry handed you the clothes he’d picked up from the floor and his bed.
“Yeah. I’d like to.”
Harry cupped your jaw and smudged your cheekbone with his thumb, “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
He walked you out to your car and squeezed your hand before dropping it. It felt strange. Like you’d just gotten away with something so immoral and improper but you were elated.
“I’ll see you in the morning, Y/n. Drive safe.”
“Okay. Thank you, Da–“ your eyes widened and you felt your whole body wash in heat as you tried to correct your near-fatal error, “Ha- Harry.”
The grin on his face with smiling dimples told you that he didn’t mind, “Night, sweet girl.”
Part 2
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