#I might not get to stream tonight if this keeps up
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finnleyandsillys · 15 days ago
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why not? ):
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fastandcarlos · 1 month ago
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Clingy : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen
summary: how does it feel to have the clingiest partner in the world? well, max verstappen can tell you
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A hum of surprise came from Max as he felt your weight land in his lap, eyes flickering down as he watched you carefully. Your head settled against his shoulder, feeling Max’s arms wrap around your body, with his hands still holding on tightly to his controller. 
A murmur of comfort immediately came from you making Max chuckle, pressing a kiss against the top of your head. Since he returned home Max had been busy gaming in his room, and soon enough you found yourself bored of having to spend your evening alone in your living room. 
Whilst you didn’t mind Max relaxing and playing a game to try and calm down after his days, you did mind a little that he was doing it in a different room to you. After waiting to see if he’d appear for a while, you decided in the end you needed to take matters into your own hands.  
“Don’t stop just for me,” you whispered across to him. 
Max continued to play on his game, waiting until his character was killed before placing the controller down, his hands landing on your back. Max wasn’t blind to the fact that your hold was tighter on him than usual, making sure that you were as close to him as possible. 
“It’s unlike you to come and disturb me like this,” Max chuckled, moving his hands up to brush through your hair. “Something happened?” He then questioned, only for your head to shake back across at him. 
Your head tilted back as your eyes landed on Max’s, “I’ve just been missing you a bit and thought I could come and keep you company whilst you played some games. You’re not streaming tonight, are you?” 
“I think it’s a bit late to ask that question,” he laughed, “but no, no one can see your clinginess.” 
You shot a glare up at him as Max shifted in his seat, allowing himself to have a better hold of you. Max’s smile turned up as he noticed how your eyes narrowed, poking his finger against the tip of your nose, encouraging you to lay back down and rest on him again. 
“It’s not my fault that you’re such a good person to cuddle,” you told Max, jabbing your hand against his chest. “If you were less irresistible than there would be less of a chance of me clinging to you right now. You already spend enough time away from me as it is anyway.” 
“I can’t help the fact that I’m just so undeniably attractive,” Max smugly responded, knowing that your eyes were rolling without even having to look down at you. “And if you asked me, I’d spend every second of every day with you without anything getting in the way.” 
Your smile turned up as Max spoke, a rare moment of honesty from him, allowing his heart to open up to you that he so often kept guarded and all to himself.  
“I like making the most of the time that I have at home with you,” you then whispered, finding your own self opening up once again. “The time is so rare most of the time, I don’t think I actually want to share you with Formula 1 anymore, I might put a ban on it.” 
“I don’t know what’s happened to you, but I’ve never known you to be as clingy as this,” Max joked, “usually you tell me that I smell and to get away from you.” 
“I’ve changed my mind,” you laughed, “I guess you’re actually alright.” 
“Alright?” Max gasped, shaking his head. “I guess if I’m only alright I’ll drop you so that I can go back to my game and you can go and entertain yourself.” 
Max teasingly went to let go of your frame, only for you to tighten yours around him, refusing to be let go by Max. He roared with laughter as a gasp came from you, catching you just in time as you began to drop, not quite sure if you were going to land with a thud or not.  
Once you were secure in his lap, Max leaned down and pressed several kisses against your face leaving you squirming and wriggling in his hold. You had no room to breathe as Max smothered you with love and affection, unable to wipe the smile off of his face. 
“You know, I can be just as needy as you sometimes,” Max whispered into your ear as he pulled away, “this is how I’d actually like to spend all of my days with you.” 
“I’d love to show this side of you to other people,” you responded, “the lovable version of Max.” 
“Nope, he’s only for you,” Max smiled, pulling you back into his chest. “No one can know that I’m actually as soppy for you as you are for me, it’s forbidden.” 
It was one of your favourite things about being with Max, how he was a completely different person with you then he was around others. No one else got to see the part of him that made you feel so incredibly loved, that was for you to enjoy and nobody else. 
“Shall we stay here forever?” 
“I wouldn’t mind,” you smiled, “that would be fun.” 
“Don’t tell anyone and see how long it takes them to find us,” Max laughed, tucking you even closer against his chest. “If we cuddle up close enough, maybe no one will even be able to find the two of us.” 
“I think you might get a bit fed up of me clinging to you,” you tried to argue, only for Max’s head to shake back at you, even if it might seem that way at times, he absolutely could never get sick and annoyed by you. 
“I love how needy you are,” Max suddenly told you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Do you know how nice it feels to know that I’ve got a partner who always wants to be around me? I’d be more upset if you didn’t want anything to do with me and didn’t care.” 
“I just can’t get enough of you Verstappen.” 
It scared you at times how head over heels you were for the man who held you, never imagining you’d fall so deep. But the way Max held you, spoke to you and looked after you had you finding yourself losing control so often, even after so many years together. 
“I don’t think I need to be on the console tonight anyway,” Max whispered, resting his head against your own. “I think I’d much rather just stay right here and give my needy girlfriend what she wants, all the cuddles in the world.” 
“Needy girlfriend?” You gasped, hitting against his chest again. “It must be hard work for you having a partner who can’t help but just be so utterly obsessed with you.” 
“Not going to lie, it makes me feel incredibly smug sometimes.” 
Your head shook as you heard the attitude in Max’s voice, thriving on all the attention that he got from you. “Please don’t tell me you brag to all the guys at work about how much I cling to you sometimes?” 
Max’s momentary silence spoke volumes. “Can you blame me? I love making them all jealous, it’s one of my favourite things to do.” 
“I think you might be as annoying as I am sometimes.” 
“It’s not my fault you make me so happy,” he defended. 
“And it’s not mine that you do the same for me too.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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raccoon-in-the-danger-room · 3 months ago
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Thinking about how Wade got his powers from Logan and, now that they're roomies, that Wade might let it slip out one day.
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They're arguing in the kitchen over something stupid. Logan is slowly getting more aggressive with chopping the onions while Wade is up on the counter top, kicking his feet while waiting for whatever is in the oven to be ready.
"You know you should really get less mad at me, peanut. If you're nice to me, you're nice to yourself!"
"I'm not Catholic, so don't try to guilt me like one, and don't you dare play any bullshit pranks on me today or I'll give you two additional assholes."
"Well, that's more holes to stuff me with, so I don't see a problem with that." And before Logan can go claws out and make good on his promise, Wade uses one of his many signature moves: the 'Talk Real Fast and Confuse Them Before They Can Hurt You' special.
"WHOA THERE THINK OF THE BABY!" He screams while grabbing a ladle to jam between the claws and up against Logan's knuckles, keeping him a distance away. "I got a little bit of you inside me! Also, Jesus, we're not making pasta tonight, so I don't want any blood over the food. I won't be able to pass it off as red sauce to Al."
"She's blind."
"But she can taste color."
He groans, and instead of responding to the latter joke, he focuses back on the first. "What's this horseshit about a baby?" He sighs as the timer goes off, and he sheathes his claws to put oven mits on and take the veggies out of the oven.
"I'm just saying some doctors injected me with your DNA!! Not unlike good ol' artifical insemination -- except into my blood stream! Sooooooo, instead of a baby, I got healing factor. Ergo," he said as he booped Logan's nose on a the last word, "if you're nice to me, you're nice to you."
And what Wade thinks is funny banter, quickly turns into a sobering conversation as Logan puts the tray on the counter, not saying a word. Before hissing out -- "...What?"
You can see behind his eyes so many gears turning in his head, and he's not looking at Wade in disgust, confusion, or pity. He's looking at him in guilt, which is not what Wade wanted or expected.
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So yeah it's all teehee chuckle fucks until Logan kinda has a melt down about learning that the freaks who experimented on him used his DNA to hurt others too. That's the hurt, and the comfort is Wade just thanking Logan over and over again that he saved his life. He's physically alive because of him, and he feels alive because of him and the stupid domestic life they've made together.
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peachesofteal · 5 months ago
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader request (s): grocery run, Simon talks about “the move”
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“These look good.”
You’re holding a carton of strawberries, lifting them to the ceiling to check the bottom. “Huh big guy? Do these look good?” You lean close, tickling his toes from where he’s hanging in the baby carrier on Simon’s chest. Orion giggles, beaming at you like always, and you smile right back.
Simon tries not to blurt out right then and there how much he loves you. He stems the stream fighting to fall out of his mouth, walking mindlessly behind you, Orion kicking his feet and babbling, something new that started when he was away. He’s so proud, thrilled to watch his son start to grow, start expressing himself, and it pains him all the same. He’s missed so much, and he’s going to keep missing things.
“What about some pasta?” You’re turned with an eyebrow raised, and he blinks.
“Hmm?” He palms Orion’s belly.
“Pasta. For dinner tonight?”
“Sure honey. Whatever you want.” Your head cocks, slightly, and you put a dry bag of linguine in the cart.
“Want to go pick out a jar of sauce and I’ll meet you at the yogurt?” You stretch your back. “Not sure I feel like going for scratch tonight.”
“Okay. Come on bub, let’s go get mama her sauce.”
There are too many options. He didn’t realize there could even be this many options, white, pink, red, garlic, no garlic, the list goes on.
It’s a bit of a puzzle. What do you like? He should know these things. He wants to know these things.
“What a handsome little man.” A woman appears at his elbow, leaning past him to peek at Orion. “He’s so cute.” He gives her his only attempt at a polite smile, though it’s strained and looks like a grimace.
It’s hard, pretending to be a civilian. Walking around in a grocery store like he wasn’t just pulling a trigger a week ago. His instinct is to size the woman up, analyze her for potential threats, cover the back of Ry’s head with his hand. He grits out a thanks. “Thank you.”
“He looks just like you,” she continues, smiling, “handsome like his daddy.” The sentiment curdles his stomach, and he narrows his eyes.
“His mama agrees.” Her smile turns a little embarrassed, awkward, but still present, persistent.
“I’m sure she does if she’s got two big men around.” Bloody hell.
“If you’ll excuse-“
“Simon?” You’ve just turned into the aisle with the trolley, confused at first, and then catching up quickly. You sneer at the stranger, stepping around her to point to a sauce on the shelf, your breasts grazing his forearm. “I like this one.” You say softly, sliding a hand to his lower back, glancing over at the obtrusive woman. “Will you get it for me?” He smirks.
“Of course mama.”
“Is that it?” You eye the three bags, two duffels and a backpack. He shrugs.
“Don’t really have a lot. I have a storage unit for some things in Manchester, family stuff, but I’m pretty used to jumping around. Flat I rented came furnished.” You suck in a breath, like you’re all the sudden realizing what a daunting task it is, being his. Belonging to him. Being loved by him, a man who kills for a living, a man whose possessions only fill three, four bags at most.
“Okay, well, there are drawers… in the dresser, and half the closet of course. I cleaned out some bathroom drawers too, I wasn’t sure what you’d be bringing so I made some room in the kitchen too, in case you had dishes, and-“
“Hey.” He steps close, snaking a palm around the back of your neck and stroking over your pulse point. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I just… this is a big deal.”
“It is.” He hums.
“I’m not… changing my mind, just like… my flat isn’t exactly… Simon sized.” He swallows his grin, pleased at how you’ve walked right into his next topic of conversation.
“About that…” your brow creases. “I think we might be a little cramped here, mama.” You slump.
“I know…” you sound defeated and he thumbs your cheek. “I just… I don’t know what comes next. I’ve been here so long, you know? It’s my place. And what do we do?” He does know it’s your place, knows how much you love your stacks of books, your small hanging house plants that sun by the window. He loves how you decorated Orion’s room, dark green with gold stars, loves how your plates and cups and bowls are all a mix of painted pieces, ornate designs that don’t really match but always seem to fit together.
He knows it will be hard, these next steps, but he’s not afraid. He trusts he knows what’s best for his family, knows how to keep you safe, and happy. He knows you’ll love it, the one he’s picked out.
He just has to tell you now.
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azsazz · 1 month ago
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In Safe Arms
Bodyguard!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader
Summary: Anon Req: Hey ! Ik u are hella busy and I am so proud of ur for ur publication , but if u ever get time could u do a Celebrity reader x bodyguard az?
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2390
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“I said back the fuck off!” Azriel growls, and you know for a fact that the paparazzi who’s been steadily inching closer and closer throughout the night has landed himself on your bodyguards shit list.
Azriel’s hand doesn’t leave the small of your back, no matter how much he wants to lunge across the sidewalk and knock the fucking camera out of this goon’s hands. The man’s been harassing you all week, from the moment you stepped off the plane in New York, getting testier and testier with his shots, following you from your hotel to your shoots, to parties and bars and back to your hotel late into the evening hours. He doesn’t know how the man finds the time to sleep, honestly.
And he knows it’s the same one following you around, not only because it’s his job to remember people that might prove to be a threat to you, but because he’d never forget this fucking scumbag’s face.
You duck your head lower, pressing Azriel’s handkerchief tightly to your eyebrow. There’s blood dripping into your eye from whatever it was a fan tossed your way as soon as you’d stepped foot out of your SUV. Azriel had been turned toward you, lending you a helping hand from the vehicle when it struck. He whirled around, but it was too late, the coward had slunk off into the crowd before he could sniff them out like a bloodhound.
And Azriel was livid.
If your father had just hired two bodyguards to protect you instead of one, this wouldn’t have happened.
Not that Azriel isn’t qualified to keep you safe by himself. With six years of training with the Royal Marines under his belt, he’s more than capable. He’s carried injured men across his back for miles when there was no hope of getting out for fuck’s sake. But this is a new playing field entirely. You’re the most well-known celebrity he’s had the pleasure of working with, and when your father didn’t heed his advice that one bodyguard was not enough, he knew he was going to be in for a challenge.
A challenge that he’s failed tonight.
You let him lead you blindly, trying your best to block out your surroundings: the screaming fans begging for a picture or autograph, the stream of liquid you’re desperately trying to blink from your eye and soak up with the rag. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest, breathing shallow pants, and the only thing keeping you from collapsing right onto the concrete outside of your hotel is Azriel’s strong hand at your back, guiding you to safety.  
“Almost there,” he murmurs at your back, and your shoulders slacken slightly at the familiarity of his voice cutting through all the other noises that pierce your ears. “Only a few more steps and we’ll be in the lobby.”
He’s right, the concierge is holding the door open just enough for the both of you to slip through, and when it shuts tightly behind you, muffling off the loud wails and camera flashes, you release a shaky breath.
“Miss, are you okay?” The man asks, concern lacing his tone, like his job is on the line because someone decided to toss something at your face. “Do you need me to call the polic—”
“No, no,” you blurt frantically, waving him off. “That’s not necessary.”
“(Y/N)—” Azriel tries to cut in, and you know that this is something he’s going to have to report to his boss. Concern laces his tone, not for his job, but for you, because you’re injured and shaking in the middle of the lobby, looking like an abandoned puppy left to wilt in the rain. “I think you should—”
“No, Az,” you choke out, finally lifting your gaze from the floor to meet his. The look he wears makes your breath catch in your throat, but looking at him always does. He’s beautiful. And completely off limits.
His thick, straight brows are the only thing that gives his concern away. There’s a wrinkle between them that you want to reach out and smooth with the pad of your finger. His mouth is set in a firm line, not unusual for the stoic man. And his eyes, well his eyes are roiling with anger, hot coals ready to combust.
You don’t even care that you’ve called him the name you shouldn’t. You’re not supposed to address him by his name at all, let alone the nickname you’ve secretly become fond of. Right now, though, you’re much to shaken to realize your slip up, and he’s too worried about your wound to correct you.
“Please,” you beg, tears brimming your eyes. His tall, built frame conceals you from the people still lingering outside, and he spots that fucking paparazzi from the corner of his eye, smirking in the window as he cranes as far as he can to be the first to get a shot at your injury. “I want to go to my room.”
You’re already pulling the cloth from your face, and he’s quick to reach out and press it back, all too aware of the people around. Any one of them could spill the beans, could secretly be listening or recording, ready to make a quick buck off your horrendous night. Fucking assholes, all of them.
“Okay,” he consoles, glaring harshly at the concierge when he opens his mouth to protest. The man’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and he scurries away. Returning his attention to you, one hand pinning yours and the cloth you’re clutching to your face, he urges you toward the elevator. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
The doors chime open, and after getting you on safely and pushing the button to the suite on the top floor of the building, Azriel shoots one last menacing look to the paparazzi that’s still standing out front. He’s going to have a few phone calls tonight, with the hotel security and the local police, because he doesn’t want that fuck anywhere near you ever again.
The sleazy pap has the gall to wink at Azriel before the doors shut between you and the man he knows will be standing in that exact spot come the morning when it’s time for you to leave again.
The ride is long, and with the adrenaline draining from your system, you’re exhausted. Azriel lets you sag against him, and you trust him so fully that you let your eyes drift shut, allowing him to guide you through your room and straight into the bathroom so that he can take care of your wound.
You crack your eyes open when he lifts you to rest on the counter before dropping to his knees and helping you out of your heels. Your feet scream happily, and your body ignites at the sight of him on his knees before you.
Standing, he shoves the sleeves of his thick, black shirt up over his elbows, exposing those strong forearms you’d had the pleasure of peeking at for the last few months. That’s not the only thing you’ve noticed about Azriel. There are scars on his hands, bad ones. You don’t know what they’re from, but you’re aching to know. To learn anything about the man who’s been your bodyguard for the better part of this year.
“I think you should go home,” Azriel says softly. Or, as softly as someone like him can. It sounds harsh, gruff, but you know he doesn’t mean it like a demand. He’s concerned in his own way.
“I can’t pull out of my appearances, that’ll only make me look worse,” you argue, sliding back onto the counter he guides you to. People already hate you enough for the rift that Azriel has caused in your relationship with superstar Tamlin Oleander. Having an attractive man protecting you has not only made the man your team is paying to be with you insecure, but he’s been twisting this story for too long already. Pulling out of your appearances now will only give the fans another reason to pick and tear at you.
He scrubs his hands hard with the bar of soap in the sink before toweling them off and looking at your injury.
There’s a split above your eyebrow. Face wounds bleed a lot, he tells himself, smothering the memory that rises at the sight. Except that that injury was about an inch lower, and his comrade didn’t make it out alive.
“Who cares about looking worse,” Azriel scoffs. This time, he speaks harsher, but his movements against your face are still soft. The sting is barely there because you’re focusing on the buzz his fingertips brushing your skin provide. You’re focusing on the soft spot in his hazel eyes as he examines your wound, his breath against your skin. It’s dizzying. And not from the blood loss. “You should care about being safe.”
Neither of you brings up that it’s his job to do just that, but it sits heavily in the room anyway, sucking all the air from the expansive bathroom.
He swallows harshly, refusing to look at you. He busies himself with plucking a few butterfly bandages from the first aid kit beside him. The split skin above your eyebrow aches when he pinches the slice together to apply the bandage. “I’ll call down to the lobby to see if there’s someplace more private we can meet the car to take you to the hospital. You’re going to need a stitch or two.”
“Azriel, wait,” you call, grabbing for his hand when he turns to leave the room. You know exactly what’s going to happen when he crosses over that threshold. “Please don’t call him.”
He allows you to stop him, but he doesn’t turn to face you. He can’t. Can’t bear to look at you when his failure is staring right back at him. He let you get hurt, and he’ll never forgive himself for it.
Azriel’s body is too still, and his tone is too even when he answers. “I have to.”
“You don’t,” you plead, clutching him tighter. If he calls your father and tells him about what happened tonight you know you’ll never see him again, and if you never see him again, you’ll be fucking miserable. You’ve found comfort in Azriel’s presence throughout the time you’ve been working together, and he’s the only one who’s been able to see through the façade you put on, the personality you’ve spent so long pretending to be. He sees you.
“I do.”
“Why?” You don’t care that you’re getting worked up, that you voice is becoming louder with your desperation. That your nails are biting into the skin of his arm because you refuse to let him walk away from you.
Azriel whirls, and you startle back a step. But you don’t let him go, you never want to let him go. You take him with you, and he goes tripping forward with how you’ve caught him off guard.
He stumbles into you and his hands find your waist, steadying you against the counter. His grip on you is tight. His eyes defeated.
“I couldn’t protect you tonight,” he admits, and you can hear the heartbreak in his voice, you can almost see the memories that resurface, threatening to drag him under. “You need someone who can.”
“You can, Azriel! It’s an isolated incident!” You’re desperately trying to get him to see reason, scrabbling your fingers at his shirt, dragging him even further into you. Tears slide down your face, and for the first time of the night, you’re afraid. You weren’t scared when Azriel was the one there, jumping into action, but now, thinking that he might leave you, you’re terrified.
“It won’t be,” he sighs, brushing his fingers softly over yours, trying to calm you down lest you reopen your wound. “Now that it’s happened, other will try, and I can’t have you getting hurt, sweetheart. I can’t protect you like I thought I could.”
Neither of you catch his slip of the tongue, too caught up in the emotions for it to register.
You can’t swallow back the sob. You try to bury your face in his shirt, but Azriel catches you gently around the shoulders, keeping you from hurting yourself.
His hands are calloused and strong, you can feel the ridges of the scarring that paints them. So tender, so cruel, so soft.
“I don’t want you to leave me,” you admit, blinking your tears away to meet his gaze. You don’t care that your makeup is probably a mess with your tears and whatever’s left of the blood, and Azriel doesn’t care because he still thinks you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
Azriel presses his forehead against yours, swiping your tears with his thumbs. “I won’t,” he promises, “I can’t.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and just like that, you’re staring up and him and he’s staring back at you like you’re the most prized possession in this hotel, in this world.
He doesn’t know when he fell for you, if it was the way you tried to find the cracks in his stoic exterior between photoshoots and interviews, or if it’s the way you opened yourself up for him only, showed him the real you.
You’re nothing like the way you’re portrayed in the media. None of those fucking people know how big your heart is, how much you’ve been hurt, how much you care.
And he’d lie down his life to keep you safe and whole.
“Promise me.” You breathe. Your lips brush his as you speak, and the gentle touch sends shockwaves up your spine. You follow their current, lengthening your spine, pushing closer to Azriel. His hands tighten on your hips, and you spread your legs wider for him so slot himself between.
He does with a jagged breath, like he’s trying to hold himself back but is unable. His hazel eyes bore into yours and you see the war there, how he wants to go against everything he vowed not to do with you. He shouldn’t be anywhere near you like this…but he can’t help himself.
“I promise,” he says, along with ‘fuck it’ in his head, and leans down to capture your lips against his.
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ozzgin · 8 months ago
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Can I have yandere Aka Manto x Reader? I see you write Japanese myths, cuz why not?
Yandere! Urban Legend x Reader [Aka Manto]
You never know when you're going to meet your soulmate. It could be on a beach at sunset, on the last bus home, in the elevator of an office building...Or in a public bathroom after you just finished your business. Nevertheless, this urban legend monster has its eyes on you now.
Content: gender neutral reader, urban legend, part horror part comedy, gore!, monster romance
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"Are you deaf? It's occupied!" you shout one final time, giving the door a swift kick to emphasize your presence. That's what you get for using a public restroom. Your coworkers had convinced you to try out another bar after the company dinner, and you might've had one too many cocktails. Thankfully most of the drinks were watered down, although it is exactly because of this detail that you're now hovering above a toilet seat with a full bladder. On a Friday night, in the partying neighborhood of the city, so it could explain the persistent stranger - possibly even drunker than you - who keeps rattling the lock of your stall.
To your horror, the handle begins to turn, and you hear a click. You scramble to get up and secure the door, but it's too late. With your pants halfway down, you gawk at the bizarre individual squeezing his way in: a tall figure wearing a red cloak and a mask. "What the Hell?" is all you can mumble to yourself, awkwardly gathering your garments in order to preserve your remaining ounce of dignity. Out of all the things to happen tonight...Alright, calm down. It's most likely a crackhead. You cast your eyes down and focus on the floor tiles, with patterns strategically chosen to hide as much grime as possible.
Pretty. Almost too pretty to kill. He might just take his time with you and savor the moment. Of course, you'll have to answer his question first. With bureaucratic efficiency, he pulls out two rolls of toilet paper and extends them to you. "The red one, or the blue one?" he asks with theatric gravity. What in the Avon samples Hell is this, you think, fidgeting nervously and avoiding any eye contact still. If you ignore him, he should lose interest.
A minute passes in heavy silence. His ghastly arms begin to tire, so he lowers them with a disappointed creak of the joints. "Y-you have to pick one", he insists. Damn it! Perhaps you've been told what to do if approached by mischievous spirits like him? Ignorance means you keep your head, though he was hoping for a gory night of entertainment. You can almost feel the intense stare coming from behind the eerie mask. The tension becomes unbearable, so you finally decide to push your luck. You will not spend the night stuck with a deranged pervert looming over you in a public bathroom.
Without further delay, you shove him aside and open the door. He lets out a surprised hum, observing your daring gesture and almost expecting you to run for your life. To his even greater shock, however, you stop to wash your hands with a relaxed whistle, completely unbothered by his presence. What happened to the fear, the terror, the dread? You peek at his reflection in the mirror, and your lips curl in a mocking grin. Maybe it's the alcohol finally hitting your nervous system, but all you see right now is a pathetic charlatan who tried to intimidate you with literal toilet paper. A good-for-nothing scoundrel interrupting the innocent from their much-needed bathroom break.
In fact, the more you consider your situation, the more your chest puffs with outrage and bravery. You pay your taxes, you help the needy, and this is how your civic deeds are rewarded? By having your stream cut midway? Unbelievable. Unacceptable. No other soul shall suffer your fate tonight. "Wretch!" you cry out, turning towards the aggressor and continuing your demands: "Evacuate the premises at once!"
You might not understand it yet, but your act of defiance has sealed your fate. The hooded monster smiles, relishing the words that have closed the gap between your fragile body and his blasphemous claws. You have spoken to him; thus, he can do with you as he desires. And yet, his murderous fingers hesitate. Your entrails should be splattered across the rarely polished porcelain by now. What's holding him back? He tilts his head in contemplation, but any intention to ponder his feelings is quickly discarded once a loud shriek pierces his ears.
As it turns out, someone else had been using the neighboring stall and was alerted by your little argument. Their finger is pointed at the cloaked creature, features twisted in disgust and fear. "Can't you tell we're busy?" The mysterious man inquires sarcastically. On second thought, this should be enough to satisfy his cravings.
With a snap of the fingers, the frightened bystander is torn apart by invisible hands right before your very eyes. Their limbs detach with surreal ease, and blood splatters everywhere in hot, sticky bursts. In your petrified daze, you are reminded of nature documentaries: blurry snippets of sharks trashing their victim around, fleshy chunks coming undone from the violent handling. Within seconds, the bathroom is quiet again. The walls and ceiling are drenched in fresh blood, and occasionally, fat droplets collapse into a puddle with resounding echo.
It all falls into place. The hooded creature claps its hands, startling you back into awareness. "That's what it was!", he says with enthusiasm. He approaches you with quiet steps, cushioned by the meaty remains coating the floor. He places one hand over the mask, removes it, and gives it a shake as if to clean off the crimson fluid. You involuntarily gaze at his face, taken aback by the handsome traits. Is this the appearance of a ruthless ghoul who butchers mortals for amusement? You wouldn't believe it if it wasn't for the hot trickle of foreign blood trailing your skin.
"I think I've fallen in love with you", he confesses with a wide, saw-toothed smile. You feel a clawed finger tracing your cheek affectionately. "Well? What're you so silent for? You were quite cheeky a moment ago!" he continues tauntingly, gripping your chin and forcing you to look up. "Or have you seen what happens when you misbehave? No, no, darling, I'd never! There are other ways in which I can ruin you."
You're suddenly very cold. With dry lips, you eventually open your mouth to speak: "I'm not leaving here, am I?"
"You could, but that would make me very upset."
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kiesbrainjuice · 5 months ago
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— SPACE SONG ! kenma kozume
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syn : your boyfriend is rather distant because of his streams but make it up to you
wc : 3.4k
tw : angst, smut, fluff, timeskip!kenma, afab!reader, ruined orgasm, missionary then cowgirl, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, reader get drunk (not during smut)
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Kenma Kozume, once a skilled setter for the Nekoma High School volleyball team, had transformed his passion for gaming into a lucrative career. His YouTube channel and Twitch streams boasted millions of subscribers, eagerly tuning in to watch his expert gameplay and witty commentary. His fame had skyrocketed, leading to numerous sponsorship deals with major gaming companies, each vying for his endorsement of their latest releases.
You stood in the doorway of Kenma's state-of-the-art gaming room, watching your boyfriend of nearly a year as he sat hunched over his setup. The glow of multiple monitors illuminated his face, his cat-like eyes darting across the screens as his fingers danced over the keyboard and mouse. You couldn't help but feel a pang of loneliness, despite being in the same room.
"Kenma," you called softly, careful not to disrupt his stream. "Do you have a minute?"
Without taking his eyes off the game, Kenma responded in a low voice, "Not now. I'm in the middle of a crucial match."
You sighed, used to this response but still disappointed. "I was hoping we could talk about our plans for the weekend. Maybe go out somewhere?"
Kenma's brow furrowed slightly, more from concentration on the game than your question. "This weekend? I have a sponsored stream for that new MMORPG. It's a big deal."
"But we haven't had a proper date in weeks," you protested, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice.
Kenma paused for a split second, his character on screen momentarily idle. He glanced at you, his expression a mix of guilt and irritation. "Look, I know it's been busy lately. The channel's growing faster than ever, and I can't pass up these opportunities."
He turned back to the game, his fingers resuming their frantic pace. "Do you want something? Use my credit card as you like, buy anything. And don't disturb my work hours," he added, his tone indifferent as he refocused on the live match.
You felt a lump forming in your throat. "It's not about the money, Kenma. I just want to spend time with you."
But Kenma was already back in his gaming world, his microphone reactivated as he called out strategies to his teammates. You knew he wouldn't respond now, not with tens of thousands of viewers watching his every move.
As you turned to leave the room, you caught a glimpse of the chat flying by on one of the monitors. Fans were speculating about Kenma's personal life, some wondering if he was single. You remembered the conversation where Kenma had asked to keep your relationship private, fearing the impact it might have on his career and your privacy.
Now, standing alone in the hallway of your shared apartment, you couldn't help but wonder if there was room for you in Kenma's life of pixels and paychecks. The sound of his voice, animated and engaged with his audience, drifted from the room behind you, a stark contrast to the quiet, disinterested tone he had used with you moments ago.
You made your way to the kitchen, your footsteps heavy with disappointment. The sleek, modern appliances and granite countertops that had once excited you now felt cold and impersonal. As you leaned against the kitchen island, the emotions you'd been holding back finally broke through.
Tears began to roll down your cheeks, and you covered your mouth to muffle the sound of your sobs. The last thing you wanted was for Kenma to hear you crying over his livestream. The contrast between the enthusiastic voice coming from his gaming room and the silence of the kitchen where you stood alone was painfully stark.
With shaking hands, you pulled out your phone and opened your group chat with your closest friends.
You: Hey guys. Anyone up for going out tonight? I really need to get out of the house.
Ami: What's wrong? Everything okay with you and Kenma?
Yuki: I'm free! Let's hit that new club downtown. You sound like you could use a girls' night out.
Hana: Count me in. We'll cheer you up!
You: Thanks, girls. I just... I need a distraction. Things have been tough lately.
Ami: Say no more. We've got your back. Meet at my place at 9?
You: Sounds perfect. I'll be there.
You wiped your eyes, feeling a small sense of relief. At least you had friends who cared and were there for you. As you headed to the bedroom to get ready, you could still hear Kenma's voice, now punctuated by occasional laughter and excitement over some in-game achievement.
"I'm going out," you called out, knowing he probably wouldn't respond or even notice your absence.
As expected, there was no reply. You sighed, picked out an outfit that made you feel confident, and started getting ready. The night out with your friends wouldn't solve the underlying issues in your relationship, but at least it would provide a temporary escape from the loneliness that had become all too familiar in your shared apartment.
As you applied your makeup, carefully concealing the evidence of your tears, you couldn't help but wonder how long you could continue like this – loving someone who seemed to exist more in the digital world than in the real one beside you.
As you arrived at Ami's place, your phone buzzed with a message. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw it was from Kenma.
Kenma: Where are you?
You hesitated for a moment before replying.
You: I'm out with the girls. Told you I was leaving.
Kenma: Oh. When will you be back?
You: Not sure. Don't wait up.
You stared at your phone, half-hoping he'd say something more, express concern, or ask you to come home. But no further messages came.
"Everything okay?" Ami asked, noticing your frown.
You forced a smile. "Yeah, just Kenma checking in. Let's go have some fun."
The four of you piled into a taxi, the excitement of a night out slowly lifting your spirits. As you approached the club, the pulsing beats could be heard even from the street.
"This is exactly what you need," Yuki said, linking her arm with yours. "A night to forget about everything and just dance."
The club was packed, bodies moving in sync with the music. The DJ was skilled, mixing tracks that kept the energy high. You and your friends found a spot on the dance floor, and for the first time in weeks, you felt yourself start to relax.
As you danced, the rhythm pulsing through your body, you tried to push thoughts of Kenma aside. But every now and then, you'd catch yourself checking your phone, hoping to see a message from him.
Hana noticed and gently took your phone. "Hey, tonight is about you, okay? Let's live in the moment."
You nodded, grateful for your friends' support. The night continued, a blur of dancing, laughter, and overpriced cocktails. For hours, you lost yourself in the music and the company of your friends.
It was nearly 2 AM when you stumbled out of the club, your feet aching but your heart lighter than it had been in months.
"Thank you all so much," you said, hugging each of your friends. "I really needed this."
As you got into a taxi to head home, the euphoria of the night began to fade, replaced by the reality waiting for you. You wondered if Kenma would still be awake, if he'd noticed your absence, if he'd care that you'd been out so late.
The taxi pulled up to your apartment building. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever awaited you inside. As much as you'd enjoyed the night out, you knew that come morning, you and Kenma would need to have a serious conversation about your relationship and your future together.
As you fumbled with your keys, the door suddenly swung open. Kenma stood there, his hair disheveled and eyes wide with concern.
"Where have you been? I've been worried sick!" he exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.
The sudden show of affection, combined with your inebriated state, caught you off guard. You giggled, your words slurring slightly as you spoke.
"Kenmaaa," you drawled, poking his cheek. "Did anyone ever tell you you're a cutie? 'Cause you are. Such a cute kitty."
Kenma's brow furrowed with worry as he realized your state. "You're drunk. Come on, let's get you inside."
As he guided you into the apartment, you stumbled, nearly falling before he caught you. "Whoopsie! My hero," you giggled again.
"I'm so sorry," Kenma said, his voice thick with remorse. "I shouldn't have ignored you earlier. I didn't realize you were so upset."
You waved your hand dismissively, nearly hitting him in the face. "S'okay. You were busy with your millions of fans. Who needs a girlfriend when you have millions of fans, right?"
Kenma winced at your words. "No, that's not... I've been terrible to you. I'm so, so sorry."
He helped you to the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed, your world spinning. Kenma knelt beside you, gently removing your shoes.
"You know what?" you said, your voice suddenly serious despite your drunken state. "I miss you. Even when you're here, I miss you."
Kenma's face crumpled with guilt. "I know. I've been selfish and blind. I promise I'll make it up to you."
He helped you sit up and handed you a glass of water. "Drink this. It'll help."
As you sipped the water, Kenma busied himself getting you comfortable. He helped you change into pajamas, brought a bucket in case you felt sick, and made sure you had painkillers nearby for the inevitable hangover.
"There," he said softly, tucking you in. "Try to get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning, okay?"
You nodded sleepily, already drifting off. Just before you fell asleep, you felt Kenma's lips press gently against your forehead.
"I love you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't shown it lately. That's going to change."
As sleep overtook you, you felt a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol. 
As you slowly regained consciousness, your head throbbing and your mouth dry, you became aware of movement in the room. You cracked open an eye to see Kenma looking at you with a mixture of concern and amusement.
"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips.
You groaned in response, your voice hoarse. "Is it morning already?"
Kenma chuckled lightly, taking in your disheveled appearance. "It's almost noon, actually. How are you feeling?"
"Like I've been hit by a truck," you mumbled, slowly sitting up.
"Come on," Kenma said, helping you to your feet. "I've made coffee. It should help."
You shuffled after him to the kitchen, squinting against the light. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, and you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you.
As Kenma busied himself pouring you a cup, you leaned against the counter, watching him. Something felt different, but in your hungover state, you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Then suddenly, a realization hit you.
"Wait," you said, your brow furrowing in confusion. "Don't you have a stream right now?"
Kenma turned to you, coffee in hand, his expression serious. "No, I cancelled it."
"You... cancelled it?" you repeated, stunned. Kenma never cancelled streams, especially not sponsored ones.
He nodded, handing you the coffee. "I cancelled all my streams for the next few days, actually. We need to talk, and you're more important than any sponsorship or subscriber count."
You took a sip of coffee, trying to process this information. "But... your career, your fans..."
Kenma shook his head, cutting you off. "They can wait. I've been neglecting what really matters - you, us. I realized last night how close I was to losing you, and I never want to come that close again."
Despite your hangover, you felt a surge of emotion. "Kenma..."
He took your free hand in his, his golden eyes meeting yours. "I'm sorry for how I've been acting. I got caught up in the success and forgot about the most important person in my life. Can we talk? Really talk, about us and where we go from here?"
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and apprehension. "Yeah, we should talk."
Kenma squeezed your hand gently. "Finish your coffee, take a shower if you want. I'll be here when you're ready.”
As you settled on the couch, Kenma positioned himself between your legs, resting his head on your stomach. Your fingers instinctively found their way to his hair, gently running through the soft strands. The intimacy of the moment wasn't lost on either of you.
"I've missed this," Kenma murmured, nuzzling closer.
You smiled, twirling a lock of his hair around your finger. "What, using me as your personal pillow?"
He chuckled softly. "Among other things. Your touch, your scent, just... you."
"Careful, Kozume," you teased. "Keep talking like that and I might think you actually like me."
Kenma tilted his head to look up at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh? And what if I do more than like you?"
Your heart fluttered at his words. "Prove it," you challenged playfully.
In one swift motion, Kenma sat up and cupped your face in his hands. His golden eyes locked with yours, full of warmth and affection. "Challenge accepted," he whispered before pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss.
When you parted, you couldn't help but grin. "Not bad for a gamer boy."
Kenma raised an eyebrow. "Gamer boy? I'll have you know I'm a gamer man."
You laughed, pulling him close again. "Oh really? Then show me your high score, gamer man."
He smirked, leaning in for another kiss. "Game on."
As you feverishly clutched each other, all the pent-up desire from months apart erupted into a frenzy of passion. The hunger and longing was palpable as you devoured each other's lips, your hands greedily exploring every inch of skin. Words were unnecessary as your bodies spoke their own language, a primal dance of pleasure and release. There was no need for discussion, only the wild abandon of two lovers reunited at last.
Kenma's hands slid under your sweatshirt, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "You're so beautiful," he whispered against your neck as his lips met your skin. You couldn't help but let out a small gasp as he squeezed your breasts gently. "I need you," you moaned, craving more of his touch. With each kiss, the desire between you grew stronger, igniting sparks of passion like wildfire. Your breaths mingled, creating a symphony of pleasure as the world around you melted away. In that moment, there was nothing but the sound of your heartbeats and the overwhelming feeling of being consumed by each other.
As his skilled fingers traced a path over the fabric covering your heated core, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan into his hungry mouth. "That's it, baby," he murmured against your lips, his movements becoming more fervent. With a quick swoop, he removed your panties and shorts, exposing your now throbbing center to the cool air. As his fingers continued their maddening circles, his tongue eagerly explored your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. Just as you felt yourself on the brink of ecstasy, he abruptly stopped, leaving you flushed and wanting. "Kenma..." you breathed out, pleading for him to continue.
He slowly removed his pants, revealing the outline of his erect member through his underwear. "I'll show you just how much of a man I am," he said confidently as he peeled off his underwear, causing you to gasp in excitement. You couldn't help but admire the size and girth of his throbbing cock as it stood proudly before you. He smirked at your reaction and teasingly rubbed the tip of his dripping pre-cum along the edge of your soaking wet pussy. "Look how wet you are," he whispered huskily in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Suddenly, he pulled back and only brushed the head of his cock against your slick entrance, making you whimper with frustration. "Please," you begged, gripping onto him tightly as he held your thighs apart. Without hesitation, he thrust himself into you fully, causing you to moan loudly into his neck. Your bodies moved together in perfect synchronization as he pounded into you with every ounce of strength and passion he possessed. And for that moment, nothing else existed except for the two of you locked in an ecstatic embrace.
With a predatory gaze, he slowly undressed, revealing the outline of his impressive erection through his tight underwear. "I'll show you just how much of a man I am," he growled with confidence as he slid off his underwear, exposing a throbbing and girthy cock that made your mouth water with desire. He smirked at your obvious arousal and teasingly dragged the tip of his dripping pre-cum along the edge of your soaking wet pussy, eliciting an eager gasp from your lips. "Look how ready you are for me," he purred huskily into your ear, sending delicious shivers down your spine. But just as you thought you couldn't take it anymore, he pulled back and only grazed the head of his cock against your slick entrance, making you whimper in desperation. "Please," you begged, desperate for him to fulfill your burning desires. With a feral hunger in his eyes, he gripped onto your thighs tightly and plunged himself inside you with a powerful thrust, causing you to cry out in pleasure and cling onto him desperately. Your bodies moved together in a primal rhythm, each thrust driving both of you closer to the brink of ecstasy. And in that moment, nothing else existed except for the raw passion between the two of you as you were consumed by unbridled desire and pleasure.
Your bodies collided in a frenzy of passion, each thrust causing your entire being to jolt with euphoria. The taste of his saliva lingered between your lips, igniting a primal desire within you as he devoured your mouth. "Kenma...'s t-too much...t-too good," you gasped, feeling yourself on the brink of explosion. But before you could surrender completely to ecstasy, he flipped you over and guided you onto him in the cowgirl position, his depths reaching even deeper inside of you. "Ride me, baby," he commanded, and with a few moments to adjust and find your rhythm, you began to ride him with reckless abandon. Your hands gripped onto his torso for support as you moved together in perfect harmony, both moaning and groaning in ecstasy. His words of praise only fueled your desire as you picked up speed, feeling the rough friction between your bodies. He grabbed onto your ass, guiding and assisting your movements as you cried out his name in absolute bliss. Every sensation was heightened in this position, every thrust and grind sending shivers of pleasure through your body as you reached the pinnacle of pleasure together.
Each powerful thrust sends you spiraling further into a state of pure ecstasy. Your cries reach a deafening crescendo, urging him to never stop as he takes you with an unrelenting force. His torso presses against yours, his head buried in your chest as he hungrily tastes and teases your sensitive breasts. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure consumes every inch of your body, building towards an explosive release that you can no longer hold back. With a final desperate cry of "Fuck! K-Ken...!", you both shatter into oblivion, consumed by the intensity of your passion until there is nothing left but the sound of heavy breathing and the taste of each other lingering on your lips.
As you both lay entwined in the afterglow, your hearts beating in sync with one another, a sense of peace and comfort washes over you. Kenma's arms envelop you protectively, and you can't help but marvel at how this gamer boy has turned into a man who thoroughly knows how to take care of you.
You trace your fingers along his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your touch. "I love you, Kenma," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion.
He turns his head to look into your eyes, his own shining with love and devotion. "And I love you too, more than words can express." He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your cheek in a tender caress.
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Ⓒ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !
tag : @haechansbbg
493 notes · View notes
mariabtsos · 5 months ago
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Nuts - ||k.nj||
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Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?
Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending. 
Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.
Word Count: 8.5k+
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Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.
Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.
Such was Namjoon’s case.
When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.
“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.
The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.
“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.
His friends didn’t reciprocate it.
“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”
“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”
“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.
Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.
“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”
“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.
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You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.
You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.
The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.
From: Hwang Jongdae
Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon
Good morning, miss Yn,
After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…
You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.
“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.
“I don’t know what to do!”
“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”
You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.
It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand
“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.
You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.
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Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”
He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in? 
Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.
He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.
The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.
“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.
“Yn”
“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.
They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.
“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.
“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.
“What, you don’t like chivalry?”
“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”
Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.
“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.
And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.
(T-4 hours)
Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.
“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.
“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.
Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.
As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.
Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.
“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.
“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.
“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”
Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.
Meet me in the sleeping area ;)
(T- 30 minutes)
There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.
All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.
Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.
“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.
“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.
“Hmm?”
“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”
“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.
“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”
You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.
“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”
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You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.
“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”
“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.
“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”
“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.
“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”
‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”
“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.
“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.
“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.
“There will be no kissing.”
Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.
“No heavy petting.” 
“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.
“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.
Or were you?
(Day 2)
You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.
You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.
“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”
Fuck it.
That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”
Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big. 
He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.
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After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.
“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.
Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.
You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.
“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.
“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.
“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.
“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”
“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.
You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.
“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”
All hell broke loose then.
(Day 14)
You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.
Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her. 
And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.
It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough? 
He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.
You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”
Oh, how those words hurt you.
You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.
Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.
“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.
“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.
“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”
“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.
“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.
(Day 15)
Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.
Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.
You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.
Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.
“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.
The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.
“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.
“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”
“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.
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Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”
“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.
“I’m not even looking at him.”
“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”
Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?
“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”
As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.
Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.
“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.
He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.
“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”
“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”
Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”
You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.
“You are a good person Jungkook.”
“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.
Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.
Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?
If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.
Love hard, hurt harder, you know?
He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.
“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.
“Your knuckles are bleeding.” 
Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.
“I guess they are.”
“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.
Fuck no.
There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body. 
It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…
He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”
“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.
“Good for you?”
“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.
He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.
Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.
“Yes.”
He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.
“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?
“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”
Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.
“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.
(Day 27)
The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.
People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships. 
Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.
Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.
“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.
“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.
“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”
“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”
“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.
“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.
“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.
“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.
“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”
Fingers crossed.
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sentientcave · 7 months ago
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Retirement Party
Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.
Chapter One - The Perfect Gift
Next Chapter >
Contains: No Y/N (Reader is an OC), Kidnapping, Stalking, Drugging, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Threats (open-ended), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real.
~3.2k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above
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"I told ye, she's perfect," Soap said, eyes on the window across the street. They could see you puttering around your living room, wearing a pretty flower print dress as you tidied up. "Good with bairns too, met her when I was pickin' up the niece and nephew from school. She was workin' for some rich family, an' they let her go because the wife found a pair of her knickers in her husband's briefcase." He snickered. He'd been the one to put them there, although, in his opinion, he’d been pushing the bounds for a long while anyway. Sure he’d essentially cast you adrift, jobless and with no one looking out for you, but, well, they were looking after you now, weren’t they? So it wasn’t all that bad.
"Good job, pup," Ghost said fondly, ruffling Johnny's hair. "Captain's gonna love 'er."
"How do you lads want to play it?" Gaz asked. "Could go in tonight. Won’t take much to knock her out, pack up her things, take her to the cabin. Get her nice and situated for when Price gets back."
"No point in waitin', is there?" Ghost asked. "Nice she's on the ground floor. Makes takin' 'er things easier. I'll go round 'n' check the windows in a bit. Should wait till after midnight. Don't want to be spotted by the neighbours."
"No' much risk o' tha'," Soap said. "Knocked over a bunch of bins last I was here and the cunts didna even turn on a light. Just the bonnie thing worryin’ while the rest of ‘em sleep sound."
Gaz lit a cigarette, nodding thoughtfully. "Small apartment too. Is there much to move?"
Soap shook his head. "Nah, no' much. Sweet girl lives simply. I told ye, she's perfect for the captain. He'll be able to spoil the fuck out of her, once she's broken in, aye?"
"Know 'e'll like that. Man needs a wife to dote on. ‘e’s been goin’ a bit crazy, all alone. An' 'e can train'er up nice."
"Think he might share?" Gaz asked wistfully, exhaling a stream of thin smoke as he sighed. "Nice soft girl like that-- Plenty to go around."
Ghost laughed. "Thought we'd 'ave trouble gettin' Johnny to keep 'is 'ands to 'imself, and you're the one droolin'."
"Scuse me for having eyes, mate. Just think she looks sweet."
"We'll get to see first 'and soon.” Ghost clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on lads. Let's get ready."
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You wake up on the hard metal floor of a moving vehicle, your pounding head cradled in someone's hands. That's what you notice first, and the thumbs rubbing circles against your neck soothingly.
It has the opposite effect. Your eyes fly open.
“Hi, bonnie,” a somewhat familiar face grins down at you, blue eyes smiling, but too intense, glittering in the low light that filters in from the windows at the front of the truck. “How’s yer head?”
You grimace, trying to make sense of what’s going on around you. The back of the van seems to be filled with boxes. “Aren’t you Finn and Rory’s uncle?”
“Aw, ye remember me? Knew ye were a sweetheart.”
You try to sit up, but Johnny puts a strong hand on your shoulder and keeps you where you are. Your head feels too heavy to try and fight him, your muscles weak. “What’s going on?” you ask. “What— Is this a kidnapping?”
“Tha’s an ugly word, bonnie. We’re doin’ ye a favour, really. Settin’ ye up with someone respectable. Captain’ll take good care of ye.” He pats your cheek. “Whyna get back to sleep? Still a ways to go, aye?”
Maybe it’s just a bad, weird dream. You do feel foggy, like you’re not fully attached to your body, and keeping your eyes open is a struggle. You’ll wake up back in your own bed, and have a funny story to tell if you ever bump into Johnny again. He’s definitely too nice to be a kidnapper, right? Like, people don’t really do that sort of thing. It has to be a dream.
“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes close again.
As you suspected, you wake up again in bed. The headache’s receded some, and there’s warm sunlight streaming in through the windows. You bury your face into the pillows, and then bolt upright. The pillow smells weird, like sweet tobacco and spice, and you don’t get morning sun in your bedroom. The window faces a brick wall across a narrow alley.
The room you’re in now is not your room. It’s sparsely furnished, just a dresser under the window and the bed you’re tucked into, and two doors, one that’s clearly a closet, and one that must lead out into the rest of the… house? Judging by the sound of birdsong outside, you’re out of the city.
You pad to the window and look out. There’s a van in the driveway, and three men carrying things in. One of them looks up and spots you in the window, waving cheerfully.
Not a dream. Fear grips you, ice sliding down your spine, shards settling in your stomach, needling and uncomfortable. Your sinuses prickle like you’re about to cry, but no tears come. You’re too dehydrated to summon them. It’s hard to tell how long you’ve been out— It’s fully daylight outside, but you have no idea what time. A second look around the room finds a digital clock sitting on the nightstand, 3:05 glaring back at you in red.
There’s a knock on the door, and it pushes open. The man who walks in is handsome, smiling at you so beautifully that your automatic response is to try and smile back, although you feel that it’s flimsy, unsure. There’s no chance that this man is here to help you, but you at least hope he’s not here to hurt you either.
“How’re you feeling?” he asks. His voice is as pleasant as his face is, smooth and cheerful, although it makes you wary about him on principle. “You hungry?”
You shake your head. It’s not true, but you can’t trust that there wouldn’t be drugs in anything they give you.
“Well, come on downstairs, hm? Get some water at least. Maybe a tea?”
Your stomach churns. “I might be sick,” you manage to squeak out. He quickly ushers you out into the hall and into a bathroom. You don’t make it to the toilet, but you do manage to make it to the sink. If you had a little more fire in you, you might have tried to vomit bile onto the pretty man’s shoes, but it’s hard to shake the instinct to be good, not to make any trouble, to hope that they’ll just let you go. You’re not even sure what they want. You have no family to ransom, you don’t have any money to speak of, you’re just a fat little ex-nanny still paying off an English Literature degree from a second-rate college.
You turn on the sink to wash away the sick, and rinse your mouth out. Your hands start shaking when you realize your toothbrush is sitting in the holder next to the sink, like it belongs there. Your makeup bag is sitting on the counter too, and when you look down, you realize you’re standing on your own bathmat, taken from your home and arranged here, as if effects from your own house are supposed to make you feel comfortable. You look at your reflection in the mirror, and then at the man still standing in the doorway, his brown eyes all concern, as if he wasn’t party to a fucking nightmare.
You straighten up, gripping the counter to steady yourself. “What the hell is this?” you ask, trying to inject some authority into your quaking voice. “Who are you? What do you want from me?”
“I’m Gaz. Nice to meet you. Johnny had lots of nice things to say about you.”
So that hadn’t been a dream either. You look around the room desperately, looking for anything that could possibly be used as a weapon, but Gaz seems to know exactly what you’re doing, and he steps into your space quickly to grab your hands.
“None of that. Come on. You’ll feel better after a tea, yeah? Then you can get ready to meet the captain.”
He leads you downstairs. Questions spin around your head, but you’re not sure if it’s worth asking. Gaz only bothered to respond to one of the three you’ve asked so far, and it wasn’t the one that you were most interested in an answer to. So you stay quiet instead, taking in the layout of the big room. A front door and a back door, and windows that look out onto a forest on one side of the property, and more forest on the other side, beyond a large cleared space with a neat garden and a few fruit trees. There’s a second building that you can just see the corner of from the kitchen window, more likely a garage than a neighbour.
Gaz backs you up against the counter and leans down slightly, his hands gripping your thighs. You panic, the touch surprising you, and slap him across the face. The sharp sound makes you freeze, like it wasn’t you that had done it. He takes advantage of your surprise to shove you up onto the counter and grab both your hands with one of his, all the friendliness draining our of his eyes in an instant as he points a scolding finger at you. You feel like you’ve done something naughty that you’re not fully aware of the implications of yet, a badly trained dog or a child. “I’m going to let that one slide, because I understand that this is a big change for you. But you’re not going to like what happens if you try that again, understood?”
You nod quickly, your own eyes wide. “I-I’m sorry,” you say, the instinct for appeasement rearing it’s skittish little head.
And then the smile returns, as pretty as before, storm clouds blowing away as though they’d never been there to begin with. “It’s alright, doll. Just don’t do it again. And definitely don’t try that attitude on with the captain.” He taps the pointing finger against your nose playfully, and lets your hands drop back into your lap.
The rules seem simple enough. Be good and sweet, and get friendly faces in return, to a degree. No matter how cooperative you are, you doubt they’re going to let you go home. Fighting back means consequences, and you’re not sure how far those consequences will extend. If you’re too much trouble, it’s not a stretch to imagine that they’ll just kill you outright and try again with a meeker woman. You don’t yet know if death would be the more preferable outcome.
You pull your sweater down over your thighs. The black zip-up hoodie isn’t yours (the word Riley is stitched onto the front of it), but it’s big, and even though it smells faintly of cigarettes, it affords you at least a little modesty and comfort, more than the tank top and the sleep-shorts you’re wearing underneath do. Riley must be the third man. Was he the captain? Or was there a fourth one somewhere?
Johnny comes through the door carrying your suitcases, and he grins widely when he sees you, the charming, boyish one that you’d thought was handsome before. It’s only unnerving now. “Didja have a good sleep, bonnie?”
“You drugged me,” you accuse.
“Weel, of course. You were no’ goan ta come all peaceable, and LT wouldna be patient if ye were cryin’ the whole way here.” He trots upstairs, and you can hear him drop the bags with a thump, before he’s clattering back down the steps and leaning against the counter next to you. “How’d’ye like yer new home, bonnie? S’a nice place, aye? Better than tha’ little shoebox back in the city.”
“I like my apartment,” you protest.
“Psh, ye’d say tha’. Puttin’ on a brave face since yer such a good girl. But it wasna verra safe, was it? No’ a single neighbour paid us any mind while we were loadin’ up yer things. No’ a good place for a single girl, aye?” He reaches out and puts a big hand on your knee, squeezing lightly. “Now ye’ll be taken care of, like ye should be.”
“I don’t want to be taken care of.”
“Nonsense. Ye’ll be glad, once ye get used to things. Already looks real homey in here, don’t ye think?” He gestures at the living room.
You twist to look, and your stomach sinks. Your throw pillows are on the couch, one of the afghans you crocheted hanging over the back of it. You recognize the titles of your books on the shelves. These men were nothing if not thorough, surgically removing your entire life and transplanting it to this house in the woods, with it’s wood panel walls and big, overstuffed leather couches.
He continues blithely, like he’s not delivering some of the most horrifying news you’ve ever heard. “Most of your furniture’s in the garage, ye can sort tha’ out with Price, aye? But we brought all yer clothes and decorations and whatnot in. Figure ye should wear tha’ pretty black sundress, an’ those long stockin’s with the clippy belt, ye ken the one? Cap’ll like those.”
They’d been through all your things. If you had anything left to throw up, you might’ve again. Gaz sets a glass of water on the counter next to you. “How d’you take your tea, doll?”
“Milk, two sugars,” Johnny answers for you. “Our sweet lass has a sweet tooth, aye?”
“How do you know that?” You can hear the quiver in your voice, and it doesn’t slip by either of them.
“Come oan, hen, ye ken I didna jus’ pick ye off the street. Did my research. Wouldna pick just anyone for the captain.”
“When he said he’d found the perfect girl, we didn’t believe him at first,” Gaz says, leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen while the tea steeps. “But Ghost and I knew he was right, soon as we saw you.” He nods at the glass. “Drink your water. You haven’t had anything since last night.”
“Is it drugged?” you ask flatly.
“No, want ye awake for when Price gets here. Yer a real cute thing asleep, but we want him ta hear yer pretty voice and see that smile, aye?” Johnny reaches past you and picks up the glass of water, taking a big swig to demonstrate it’s harmlessness.
You take a careful sip when he hands it back to you, and then another, resisting the urge to just gulp the whole thing down. The door opens again, and the biggest man you’ve seen in your life walks in, wearing a black t-shirt and a mask with the jaw of a skull printed on it, pulled up over the lower half of his face. He looks at you dispassionately, and then at Gaz and Johnny. “What the ‘ell have you two muppets been sayin’ to the poor thing?” he asks, his voice rumbling like an avalanche. “She looks like she’s gonna faint.”
“Figure she’s just peaky,” Gaz says defensively. “I’m making her tea.”
The big guy swats Johnny’s hand away from your knee impatiently, and cages you in against the counter, one huge arm on either side of you. “How’re you feelin’ bird? Be honest.”
“Terrified,” you admit.
He chuckles. “Sensible, considerin’. But you don’t need to worry, olright? No one’s gonna hurt you, so long as you’re good. And you want to be good, don’t you, bird?”
You nod. You’d thought Gaz and Johnny were big, but this one’s huge, broad and tall and even scarier. It’s clear why they started off introducing themselves to you in the order they did. If this man had been the first thing you’d seen after waking up you probably would have gone into hysterics.
“Use your words, pet.”
“I want to be good,” you say obediently, because you don’t see any other options, at least for the moment.
“Good girl,” he says, and there’s the slightest hint of a smile in his dark eyes.
Somehow, this is the most comforting thing that you’ve experienced all day. You won’t be hurt if you’re good, and you are being good.
He pushes back from the counter slightly, giving you more space, takes the mug of tea from Gaz, and hands it off to you. “Small sips,” he instructs. “And maybe a biscuit, if you think you can keep it down.”
“Are you the captain?” you ask nervously, gripping the mug with two hands.
“Hm? No. ‘e’s still about an hour out. I’m Simon. Ghost to these two.” He fishes an open package of biscuits out of the cupboard and sets them next to you. “Once you finish your tea, we’ll get you ready. Want to make a good first impression, right bird?”
“Not really,” you admit. “I’d like to go home.”
He laughs, at least finding your honesty amusing. “That won’t be ‘appenin’. If Price dun’t want you, I’ll keep you myself. But I’ll tell you right now, you’ll like Price better. If you’re good for him, he’ll be real good to you, understood?”
You bite your tongue. It won’t do you any good to point out that a man that would accept a person as a gift is probably not capable of being good to anyone. Good is subjective, and the three men in front of you are lunatics. Their captain probably has the slightest bit stronger a grasp on his sanity, or a consistent moral code, if not a particularly righteous one. So you just keep your mouth shut, and drink your tea, and eat two chocolate digestives while Gaz and Johnny start collecting things to make dinner.
As soon as you set your empty mug to the side Ghost pops you down from the counter and ushers you upstairs with a big hand placed a little too low on your back. He tells you what to wear (down to the lingerie), but blessedly doesn’t insist on watching you get dressed. He does sit on the edge of the tub and watch you put on makeup, however, requesting red lipstick and winged eyeliner. Your hands are still a little shaky, but you manage to do as he asks. His eyes smile at you just a little when you’re obedient. You feel pathetic for not making a fuss, but you’re not sure what you can possibly do, except something stupid that will make them angry enough to hurt you.
He helps you into a pair of strappy red heels that had been languishing in the back of your closet before they dug everything out, and straightens the seam of your stockings, running his big hands up your calves. It’s like you’re a doll, dressed just how he wants, something to look pretty and say less than nothing, a gift for some other man you’ve never met to keep on a shelf.
Or worse, to play with.
You hear Johnny and Gaz greet someone downstairs, their voices loud and excited, and your heart skips nervously.
Ghost rises to his feet, smiling so big you can see it even with the mask. “Wait right here, pet,” he says firmly, leaving you sitting on the edge of the bed while he goes off to greet his captain. “Want to introduce you proper.”
So you sit, and you wait, shaking and nervous, for what feels like eternity, until you hear Simon’s surprisingly light footfalls on the stairs again. He offers you a hand, and hoists you over his shoulder as soon as you’re on your feet, carrying you down into the living room.
“We all pitched in,” Gaz says, as casually as if he meant throwing in five dollars for a card. “But she was Soap’s idea.”
“Picked ‘er out special, Cap,” Johnny says. “She’s perfect for ye.”
“She?” an unfamiliar voice asks. “Don’t tell me you got me a dog.”
“Better than that, skipper.” Ghost laughs as he circles around the couch, and drops you carefully into the man’s lap, stepping into line with the other two. “We got you a wife.”
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I've been low-key thinking about this concept since I read ohbo-ohno's Don't Leave Me Locked in Your Heart a while back (If you haven't read and you like a good dark fic, you should click that link, you may enjoy it). I think getting someone a person as a gift, or being given as a gift, rather, is a fun fucked up fantasy to explore. I'm not entirely sure where I'll take this but I promise to put in content warnings. Let me know if I miss something, I don't want anyone to be surprised by what they find!
Image Credits: Banner
Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune
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igotanidea · 4 months ago
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All figured out : Jason Todd x reader
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Summary: When duties and stuff get in the way of being close so bad he forgets your b-day... Or does he?
***
As of late they barely had time for each other. It was constantly his patrols, his wounds and bleeding, her work and headaches and everything in-between.
You know what they say after all, right? About the mundane everyday stuff killing more relationships than actual fights and heartbreaks. The case when you get so accustomed to being with each other that there’s nothing more to discover and the connection becomes simply boring.
And he didn’t want it.
She neither.
But what was to do when there was always something or someone.
What was to do when they both found themselves drifting apart, too focused on the duties and obligations and that constant train of thoughts, plans and internal anxiety they tried to suppress so hard there was barely any strength for anything else.
“Y/N.” 
“Hm?” She raised her head from the couch she dozed off while reading some notes for the upcoming work presentation. “Yeah? What’s wrong? How can I help?” Even in her half-hazy state with a post-it note stuck to her cheek, her first instinct was to sprung into action. And the fact that she missed his concerned face and affection beaming from his eyes did not go unnoticed.
“It’s your birthday today, baby…” Jason sighed, moving closer, crouching next to the couch to be somewhere close to her eye level and squeezing her hands.
“My birthday?” Her tone indicated that she barely recognized what day it was, let alone that the date was anything special “Really? I guess I forgot about that…”
“Y/N…”
“Hm?”
“I’m so sorry-“
“For what?” she tore the note from her cheek, finally meeting his eyes “Hey. Jason, baby. For what?”
“I forgot them too.”
“Well clearly not, if you’re the one reminding me.”
“I don’t have a gift for you.”
“You’re here, aren’t you?”
“It’s not enough.”
“It is enough for me.” She squeezed his hand reassuringly, “Because us talking for more than five minutes might be the first time in weeks.”
“I’m sorry-“
“Yeah, me too.” She sighed “this is not just on you Jace. You’re only half of this relationship.”
“Only?” he teased, familiar sparks showing in his eyes
“Oh, here’s that mischief I know you for.” She chuckled leaning her forehead on his in a vulnerable gesture “What happened to us Jay?”
“I don’t know. But I don’t like it.”
“You don’t say.”
“And that’s why I’m taking you out tonight.”
“Wait, what? What about the patrol? The missions? The-“ the stream of words coming out of her mouth was cut abruptly as he placed a finger on her lips. “Hey-hmph!”
“Don’t think just because I’ve barely heard your voice lately I’m just going to let you bubble, princess.”
“But-“
“Now, put on you prettiest dress and do not worry your sweet little head about anything else”
“But-“
“If you keep talking I’ll have to silence you in some other way and then we won’t leave this apartment at all. And I’ve already made plans-.”
“In the past thirty seconds?!”
“Yes. Now do you want to ruin my plans for tonight?” he pouted in a child-like manner causing her to let out an involuntary laugh before heading to the bathroom to get ready for whatever scheme he came up with.
***
“A club? Seriously?”
The look of confusion on her face as they pulled at the dancing spot was quite hurtful to him.
“I didn’t even know you could dance.”
“Ouch! Y/n!”
“What?!” she scoffed, “It’s your fault. You never showed that skill.”
“Well here’s a show for your entertainment. Go ahead and enjoy me, making a fool out of myself just to celebrate your bday.”
Jason grabbed her hand, sent a knowing look to the bouncer that just let them pass without any questions and dragged her inside.
“Wait… wait, what is going on here? You know the bouncer at the club? Jason? Jason?! The actual hell- ah!”
The lights went out, she felt his hand slipping from hers and for a second that felt like eternity she was completely alone in the dark.
“Y/N?!” his voice reached her ears though she had no idea where it was coming from and the slight panic started to creep inside. A feeling multiplied when she heard ruffling and some whispers of people who were closing in on her
“Jason?! Where are you!?” Y/N started spinning in the dark, searching for anything solid that would help her cover from whatever danger might be lurking in the dark. “ah!” Her wish became granted sooner than expected when she collided with something hard and out of sheer instinct started punching and hitting the surface.
“Hey! Hey, relax! Relax! It’s me! It’s me, princess.” Familiar touch of hands intensified on hers stopping her from fighting the person that was in fact her only salvation and protection. “It’s me, you’re safe” he pulled her closer, offering comfort and calm.
“What-what happened?” she stuttered “Why did the lights-“
“SURPRISE!”
Before she made her sentence the candles and lights garland got lit and she was greeted with friends and family members standing behind the lavishly set table with a birthday cake smiling and cheering.
“You asshole!” Y/N turned to Jason, resuming to punch and hit him, only that now she could see him and her movements were far more accurate and effective “I could have had a heart attack!”
“Stop it!” Jason laughed, pretending to be scared, grabbing her waist and spinning her in her air, before putting her down and kissing her passionately, not caring about the onlookers of their guests. “Happy birthday.” He muttered against her lips.
“You’re a jerk, you know it?” she responded in a whisper before grabbing the front of his shirt and kissing him again, not giving a shit who was looking likewise.
***
“You want to sneak out of here?”
After two hours of celebration, dancing, laughing and stuffing mouths with delicious food, Jason walked to her from behind offering a getaway from everyone. His warm breath followed by a gentle kiss on that soft spot between her neck and shoulder was supposed to convince her, but she was still mad about the trap he set for her.
“Mh. Dunno. You went to such a great length to bring me here and now you want me to leave?” She teased, though her tone was not matched by the action when she tilted head to give him more access to her skin and allowed his hands to wrap around her waist.
“Mhm. Yes. Exactly. Leave with me.” Jason muttered against her skin.
“You're scared you won’t find the way back home?” she smirked and the grip on her body tightened.
“Not If my home stays here….”
“Oh no!” Y/N’s joyful laughter filled the air “Cliché! And cheesy and –“
“You done?” he frowned, not liking the way she was mocking him while he was pouring his heart out.
“Nope. Don’t think so. I can go like this for hours.”
“Y/N—” he growled in a warning she was pushing him to the limits.
“But I suppose if I can do it here, I can also do it when we’re alone-“
“Oh so now you want to be alone with me only to mock me?”
“Mhm.” She grinned. “So what do you say, big boy? Shall we take a French leave?”
“And walk out silently?” Jason grinned and she did not like it at all. “Over my dead body. Again.”
Without warning he lifted her up in the air, and with the most commotion he could cause, carried her away, followed by the cried out wishes of happy birthday and all the best.
He was such a drama queen.
***
“That was fun.” She pointed out when they got back to their little flat
“Only a beginning princess. I haven’t really given you your present yet.” Jason made sure to lock the door, stepping closer to his girlfriend and immediately pulling her closer, caressing her back and kissing her neck.
“You think you know what I want, huh?” She giggled when his lips started to tickle her skin.
“Got you figured all over baby… Know all your soft spots.”
He descended to her collarbone, bending her backwards a little to make it easier. The position forced her to place hands on his shoulders for purchase.
“Are you saying I became so boring and predictable to you?” she teased not stopping him walking her backwards to the bed
“Boring?” he gave her a look over, before sliding her dress upwards, tracing over the exposed thigh “not at all.” Her dress hit the floor, removed overhead. “Predictable? Maybe…”
“Asshole…” soft sight left her lips before getting silenced by another passionate kiss.
“You know I know what you want…”
“Prove it.” Y/N did not waste a second sliding his shirt off too. Once done, she plopped on the bed, facing the ceiling and waiting for his move “Prove you really do know what I want.”
Jason smirked and laid on the bed next to her.
He knew.
He knew better than she wanted to give him credit for.
And that was exactly the reason why at the moment his fingers were running up and down her exposed belly, but never crossing the barrier of her white, innocent panties or bra.
The reason why he did not tear his and her underwear and surrender to passion.
An argument for not going straight into sex.
So many people were confusing intimacy with sex. Simplifying it. While the real connection went far beyond body-to-body contact and carnal pleasure.
Real intimacy did not mean being bare as in shedding the clothes, but exposing oneself emotionally.
And he knew.
They’ve been growing apart for so long and the best gift he could give her was his presence next to her.
Y/N smiled rolling on her side to look into his eyes, their bodies close but never really touching as if the exchanged looks and interlaced fingers were far more valuable.
“How do you like your present?” he smiled softly, playing with her fingers, voice filled with warmth and purest form of affection.
“You really did know.”
“Told you I got you figured. And it’s not really a bad thing now, is it?”
“No. No it’s not. And hey I just figured something –“
“Hm? And what may that sudden discovery be? You missed me perhaps? Or – “ he made a dramatic pause – “don’t tell me you got feelings for me! Ugh! Y/N! Disgusting!” 
She laughed.
“Feelings? No way! And how could you dare believe I might have missed your horrible attitude and character!? Are you trying to offend me?!”
“Always.”
“Perhaps I should also thank you for keeping me in check and making sure I don’t become conceited?”
“Happy birthday” he shrugged, pulling her to his chest ruffling her hair on purpose. “And don’t think I love you or something.” The last remark was followed by the kiss on her forehead.
“Me neither, Jason. Me neither-”
It seemed like they got each other figured out after all.
And maybe it was their way of healing and coming together once again.
295 notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Soft Launch : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: follow the journey of lando’s soft launch to reveal your relationship
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 1,302,382 others
landonorris: one shoulder up or two 🤔
67,505 comments
username1: anyone else notice the person who accidentally walked in midway through the stream tonight!?
username2: lando definitely had a girl over…
alex_albon: you must be desperate for content if this is what you’re posting 🙄
username3: why won’t you tell us who was round your apartment lando??
georgerussell63: how about neither of your elbows up you weird man
username4: I keep replaying it but I can’t work out anything about them…
username5: what if lando has a secret girlfriend or something
danielricciardo: you know it’s okay to look at a photo and change your mind about posting it
username6: not everyone rinsing lando in the comments 😂
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liked by georgerussell63, carlossainz55 and 1,937,605 others
landonorris: life’s been pretty good recently ☀️
58,391 comments
username7: any particular reason why that might be mr lando norris
carlossainz55: care to elaborate? 🤔
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 zooming over to ferrari now to fill you in
username8: wonder if it’s pretty good because of someone??
georgerussell63: glad to see you with a smile on your face buddy 🫶🏻
username9: is he hinting that this new girl has made his life better??
maxverstappen1: I wanna know all of the gossip too 😂
username10: I’d love to be the reason for lando’s smile fyi
username11: I’m more interested to know who even took these photos
oscarpiastri: I’m fed up of this new version of you, you’re too smiley to have around the garage now
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri sorry not sorry 🙃
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liked by team_quadrant, maxfewtrell and 1,492,606 others
landonorris: apparently if you find a girl who likes quadrant, she’s definitely a keeper ✨
78,301 comments
username12: this sounds like confirmation to me that lando has a girl
team_quadrant: girls who like quadrant = girls with good taste
username13: do you reckon that’s her in the photo ☺️
danielricciardo: ik a better brand of clothes that they could wear 😂
landonorris: @/danielricciardo quadrant > enchante 🤫
username14: really hoping this new girl likes quadrant so she can stick around forever
username15: I like quadrant…does that make me your girlfriend now??
charles_leclerc: I like quadrant but you’re not willing to date me…
username16: @/charles_leclerc also not a girl you clown
oscarpiastri: if I do a photo shoot with you do I get free merch too?
pierregasly: why am I so invested in being part of lando’s comment section lmao
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liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,594,706 others
landonorris: thank you for bringing so much positivity into my life 🫶🏻🥺
89,394 comments
danielricciardo: you’re welcome honey 😇
landonorris: @/danielricciardo you wish that I was talking to you
username17: look how perfect they look together wow
username18: it’s official, he’s actually managed to get a girlfriend
georgerussell63: congrats on not being the single friend anymore 👏🏻
carlossainz55: little lando norris finally got himself a girlfriend 😂
username19: I want to be happy but I so wish that this was me
username20: the look on his face 😭 I’m so happy he’s happy
charles_leclerc: if you want some tips on how to be a good boyfriend just zoom back to ferrari again
username21: my heart is so full - cheering for these guys all the way!!
username22: constantly telling myself not to be bitter that my dreams now won’t come true
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liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and 1,395,604 others
landonorris: race weekend with a first timer, luckily for her she picked the best team to support 🧡🏎️
89,483 comments
maxverstappen1: did she get a choice or did you force her to do this??
landonorris: @/maxverstappen1 she said she wanted to support the team with the most handsome driver 💁🏻‍♂️
oscarpiastri: @/landonorris she thinks I’m handsome awh
landonorris: @/oscarpiastri 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻
username23: how have we not got a face reveal when she was literally at the race
username24: I never had lando down for a soft launch kinda guy
danielricciardo: did you even introduce her to all the teams on the grid, you know, let her make her on mind up??
username25: whoever she is she knows how to rock papaya
username26: omg the height difference is the sweetest
logansargeant: I remember when I used to hug you and you’d rest against my chest like that 😂
alex_albon: look at you being all cute and charming
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liked by maxfewtrell, danielricciardo and 1,022,494 others
landonorris: holidaying with my favourites 🌊☀️
89,504 comments
username27: eurgh lando you’re killing us with all these almost photos
maxfewtrell: I’m the number one out of the two of us though right??
landonorris: @/maxfewtrell whatever makes you feel better sweet cheeks
username28: my heart can’t cope with this for much longer
oscarpiastri: so you holidayed with your favourites and yet I’m here at home 🤔
username29: lando replacing oscar with his girlfriend is peak
username30: lando knows what he’s doing and this is so not fair
username31: I bet he’s laughing at all of us when he looks at his comments section
alex_albon: it’s alright for some 😂
username32: lando I’m on my knees pls just tell us more about who this lucky girl is
georgerussell63: I think your fans might turn on you soon if you don’t stop playing them 😂
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liked by oscarpiastri, georgerussell63 and 1,302,493 others
landonorris: another race weekend with my best human there to cheer me on 💕☺️
99,398 comments
username33: FINALLY HE GAVE US WHAT WE WANT
username34: omg she’s absolutely gorgeous lando
username35: we won at last woooooo
alex_albon: still can’t believe your girlfriend supports mclaren 😭
oscarpiastri: don’t forget who the most handsome mclaren driver is tho 😂
username36: they look so in love together 💞
username37: I want to be jealous but how can I be when they look so cute
lilymhe: we’re double dating asap btw
danielricciardo: they don’t prepare you for when the kids grow up 🤧
landonorris: @/danielricciardo sorry dad 😭
username38: my heart has officially exploded 😂
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liked by ynusername, danielricciardo and 1,948,502 others
landonorris: whoops they caught us 🥺
tagged: ynusername
138,849 comments
username39: these two are gonna be such a duo omg
username40: ah and he even tagged her 🤩🤩🤩
danielricciardo: my kids are the cutest things in the world
carlossainz55: smooooth operator 😂😂
landonorris: @/carlossainz55 high praise from you my friend 🫡
username41: thank goodness that the soft launch era is now over
username42: I’m already in love with them so much
username43: I don’t want to be yn anymore, I just want to be her best friend
charles_leclerc: congrats buddy 👏🏻👏🏻
alex_albon: stop making the rest of us feel single even though we’re also in relationships please
ynusername: ily 🥺🥺🥺
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
2K notes · View notes
https-murdock · 2 months ago
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Be Good to Me - Matt Murdock
summary: do you deserve to come? matt isn’t so sure.
word count: ~1.2k
warning: mean!matt - blowjob, insults (not that bad?), unprotected sex (no!), orgasm denial, p in v, bondage, as per usual with me it’s my fave - porn no plot.
note: first time writing mean!matt ahhh, had a really fun time writing this - requested by our own @kit-murdock - thank you gorgeous ! hope it’s ok :)
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matt knows how wet you are, he can smell it. does he care? no.
“knees, sweetheart.” he grimly says, eyes looking down in your direction with a new darkness that hasn’t quite shown itself before.
Dropping down onto your knees, the cold hard floor of his living room hits your skin fast. It’s painful, the way your weight is laying on your knees but again, you know he doesn’t care - he’s only here for his pleasure, and somehow that’s what’s making the slick soak your underwear so much.
“desperate, aren’t you?” He asks, belt buckle clinging as he slowly undoes it, taking it out of his suit pants and just holding it - almost as if he’s debating what to do next. “turn around.” he’s growling at you now, calloused hands grabbing at your shoulders and spinning you round forcibly when you don’t move quick enough for his liking.
“matt what-“ you start, before realising that you should probably leave him to do what he wants.
“quiet. i didn’t tell you to speak, did i sweetheart?” Matt says, he’s being stern now, it annoys him when you don’t do as you’re told. you get punished if you don’t do what he says - and often, that’s what you want.
but not tonight, you’re here to solely give Matt his pleasure - find delight in the way he responds to you.
He uses his belt to tie your hands behind your back, moulding you back into the way he wants you - on your knees, mouth open and looking up at him. As Matt is standing above you, the red lights from the billboard casing over his whole body, you know you’re in for a long, but fun, night.
“keep that pretty mouth open, dumb girl,” he begins, his hand gripping around your cheeks while your jaw drops open ready to take him, before he continues, “gonna take me? do as you’re told? gotta be good for me.” You nod, knowing he doesn’t want to hear your voice right now.
He takes his time stripping his clothes off, and you wonder if this will make him forget about the stress of his cases. Having you wrapped so tightly around him in any sense he wishes to use you.
slowly, you begin to feel the tip of his cock tapping at your lips - and you know what he means, but he says it before you can act, “come on, i know you know what to do. don’t act all stupid on me now.” he’s smirking, precum tapping onto your lips.
you let your tongue crawl from your mouth, desperate to taste him, matt letting his heavy cock fall onto it as you wrap your lips around the head. “good girl, just do as you’re told and you might get a treat.” he mutters, and the pulsing in your core gets stronger at the thought of him allowing you to come.
He’s twisting his fingers into your hair, both hands gripping at the back of your head as he begins thrusting his hips and hitting the back of your throat. There’s no time to take a breath as you let your eyes flutter closed and appreciate the taste of him all over you.
“A-ah shit, you do know what to do, fuck.” he’s giggling to himself, almost like he didn’t believe all the punishments you’ve endured had shown you how to please him.
you’re letting him use you, just sitting there and hoping he’ll let you finish and give you the pleasure of touching you. Matt’s hitting the back of your throat and sometimes staying there, holding your head down on his cock until he can tell you desperately need to breathe.
“you need to breathe? huh?” he’s asking, again holding you down and feeling the pulsing in your temples as your eyes stream. He lets you go, listening to the big breath you take when your head flies backwards off of him, laughing at you, “my stupid girl. can smell how wet you are for me, such a slut.”
“just need you, please.” you whisper, hoping the plea will reach his ears in a good manner.
“hmmm. no, you’re mine tonight, my little whore.” he grins, slapping your face gently a few times, feeling the drool around your mouth that you can’t wipe away, hands still bonded behind your back.
Matt drags you up, legs wobbling as he swings you over his shoulder, walking to the bedroom as you realise you’re in for a fight.
you’re thrown on the bed in an instant, the belt still tight around your wrists stinging slightly at the landing. “gonna use you. all mine. do whatever i want with you.” he’s almost talking to himself now, shoving his two middle fingers in your mouth and listening to the gag when he hits the back of your throat.
“ohhh sweetheart, you’re soaked. this wet for my cock huh?” he laughs, and your cheeks flush red with embarrassment, knowing how much slick sits between your legs.
“p-please. please.” it’s the only word that can even fall from your lips right now, the rest escaping you.
“so fucking desperate… all for this?” he asks, sheathing himself inside you in one fluid motion, making you scream out in a mixture of pain and pleasure at the feeling of him stretching you so good.
“hmmm, so tight still. always. my girl.” he’s muttering to himself, almost growling at you as he begins slamming his hips against you, the belt still tightly around your wrists as the pins and needles grows in them, the weight of matt on top of you, pressing your legs near your chest weighing you against them.
“so fucking wet for me, this is the effect i have on you?” you’re nodding frantically, feeling a little coil building below.
“don’t you dare come, little slut. don’t.” he’s saying, tugging you to the edge of the bed and standing up, still fucking into you but using those strong fingers to slap your pussy as he continues ravaging you.
“no, no no. matt, please.” you’re starting to beg, almost panic, because you know exactly what it means when he doesn’t let you come when he can feel it like he does now.
you’re moaning so loud he’s putting a hand over your mouth, “fuck, matt, h…”
“ah, shit. always so tight.” he’s grunting, and his hips are stuttering now. you know exactly what’s coming and you don’t like it, but he feels so good.
you feel it as soon as it happens, the hot white ropes filling you to the brim - and he pulls out.
as you realise you were right, a single, frustrated tear falls onto your cheek, as he throws a towel your way.
“please, matt i need to, i-“ you’re pleading to finish, desperate for him to tip you over the edge you’ve been craving from him this whole time.
“you think you deserve to come? i don’t think so.”
— tags
@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs
125 notes · View notes
matchingbatbites · 8 months ago
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settle down (it'll all be clear)
T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie
Read on A03
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Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”
“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”
The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”
Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall. 
Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.
But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.
Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry. 
The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown. 
Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”
The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.
A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt. 
“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”
The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.
It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.
“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”
“Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”
The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”
Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”
“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.
“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”
Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.
“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest. 
They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.
Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack. 
He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.
Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself. 
Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.
Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.
Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work. 
At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.
He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.
He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery. 
It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.
When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.
“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”
“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.
“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.
Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything. 
It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.
Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”
Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”
“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”
Eddie wants to go out.
With him.
Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”
He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”
Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”
“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”
“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”
Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”
(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)
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jolalibrary · 6 months ago
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Hiya! Not sure if you take requests or not, ignore this if you don't! But I had an idea for Ghost. Where he has only ever seen the reader in army gear and she either goes undercover or she's heading home or some scenario like that and she's dressed all cute and nice like and he's shook at how stunning she is (he thought she was stunning in her gear but still) and maybe some spicy sexy times all pent up emotions and confessions etc etc ❤️❤️
I don’t usually, but what I can offer you is a stream of conscious thoughts? how does that sound. and it might allude to smut but not be written. but, hope you don’t mind. cod ghost x f!reader | wc: less than 1k
similar to how it had taken time for you to see him maskless, scars on his face—off-centred broken nose and the little chickenpox scar he’d picked when he was too little to know better—it had taken time for him to see you at home. at ease.
there’d been talks of drinks for something, and then it had been a plan. arranged to all meet in some place in some poxy village in the middle of england. all low ceilings and a jukebox that only played songs from over ten years ago.
you didn’t come with him. message lighting up his phone last night informing him you’ll meet him there. you’re coming with gaz. that it makes sense.
and it does.
doesn’t fucking mean he likes it.
i’d like to keep our fucking to just us, if possible.
that’s what you’d said. on base. hand around his cock, palm flat against the wall by the side of his head. lips slid so far into your cheek he wondered when he’d allowed the roles to reverse. when the tides had shifted and his heart clenched when you didn’t immediate radio back, when his bones in his hand had almost shattered when he’d spotted a cut on your cheek because some knobhead hadn’t had your six.
it’s healed now. slowly faded pack to perfection in the weeks on base—him spotting it each time you were beneath him, on top of him, pressed against the tiles in the showers as he shrouded you in shadows.
now, sat here with price in comfortable, perfect silence, he hears you before he sees you. that laugh. the one which paints him in strokes of joy, grows louder as the squealing wooden door opens, and his eyes flick to the side.
then, his head turns.
he knows it’s you. but it’s a you that makes him double take. one that fractures a part of his mind and then forces it back together all in the space of a second. because he’s seen you in jeans and a casual top—he’s not seen you in something tighter, more form-fitting, more black silk that drapes down over your skin like water.
fuckin’ hell drips from his lips in a whisper.
because he’s not sure he blinks. not sure he can get the idea out of his head of how you let him ruin you so often, when you could so easily make his heart stop. because you could. here, right now, in a different way than you do on base—when it’s all sharp orders, competent and quick-thinking. but both equal, both so powerful it knots something inside of him and makes him want to push you away.
he thinks your claws are already too deep.
thinks he already cares too much. and it breaks him. in the best way, more so when you nod at price, but head on over to him. not wanting another place than as close to him as possible.
a place, he realises, he wants you too from the way his shoulders sag into their natural position, and he begins breathing a little easier.
your elbows rest on the bar, shoulder almost brushing against him as price and gaz loudly begin a discussion about darts and you order a drink.
“I like you…”
“jumpsuit. pretty, but hard to pee in.”
“that come on the label?”
smirking, half what it usually is, but the half that’s just for him. “something like that.”
there’s a stone in your ring—the one on your middle finger. colourful, shiny. it catches the smoke-stained lights above the bar, making his eyes flick to your hand to see how your trailing them up and down your ice-filled glass.
“I don’t have a room tonight.”
“piss poor planning on your part, sergeant.”
snorting, burying it into your shoulder, lashes flicking up to him, the makeup around your eyes doing the utmost to make him struggle to look away from them.
“not feeling charitable, simon?”
“not just yet.”
nodding, your eyes flicking to the floor. a deep inhale and then exhale following, smearing over the crackling sounds of U2 singing their heart out.
“would it help to know I’ve drawn a ghost somewhere on my body in kohl?”
his jaw slides. eyes tearing from you, glass already at his exposed lips—cautious not to soak the balaclava in his drink. that’s when he feels your hand in his jacket pocket, burying something. a thing he doesn’t go to reach for immediately. hearing your bag click shut. a beat passing. a different kind of silence pulsing and throbbing between the two of you.
so when he does reach into his pocket, he knows instantly what it is. knows that texture. has been privy to it before.
“that’s what I was going to wear under this.”
“what you wearing now?”
meeting his gaze, sharp, as full of intent as it is when you’re in a war zone—when there’s mud on your face and determination in your eyes.
“nothing, simon.”
“nothing?”
“was worried about lines.”
he snorts. loudly. thinking christ as he drains the rest of his glass as the ice clangs.
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onsunnyside · 2 years ago
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Hi Sonny dear!!!✨ would you consider writing a sweet pogue reader and a super mean Rafe!!!😈 he could be the meanest meanie that ever was! Like he can make reader go into tears in seconds 😭! Plus you are such a sweetheart 🤭
hi lovely bestie !! and yes I would 🌚 me thinks… (tw stepcest)
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pogue!reader is a lil crybaby, super sensitive and sweet, as shy as they come 😣 you’ve never known your mother, so you were more than surprised when she married Ward and wanted to reconnect with you. Long story short, you, Sarah and Wheezie have grown close since reconnecting with your mother. All that time at Tanneyhill gave you a glimpse into the Kook life, the immense wealth and comfort, but it also put you in the same place as Rafe. You live with your father on The Cut for most of the year, and regardless of how much you try to fit into the Kook life whenever visiting your mother, you’ll never be like them, Rafe has drilled that into your head.
He’s absolutely terrible, your worst nightmares personified. He has tormented you and, on a few occasions, has made you run out of the house in tears. He isn’t afraid to cut deep into your delicate little heart—that’s why Sarah refuses to leave you two alone together. But try as she might, Rafe will always find a way to corner you:
“What? You don’t wanna say hi to your big brother?” He cocks his head, wearing that stupid grin as you try to push him away, his tall and broad statue barely sways. “Did you forget your manners?”
You gulp, tears already welling in your eyes. He looms over you threateningly, daring you to snap at him, or raise your hand at him (which you’ve only done once after you had a bit of liquid courage).
His hand reaches for you face, those long fingers tracing down your heated cheeks to your neck. “You remember what happened the last time you ignored me?”
How could you forget?
His touch was burned into your skin, his filthy words seared into the walls of your skull like a cruel mockery of how pathetically weak you are. Worst of all, you didn’t hate how good he made you feel. Even to this day, you haven’t touched that spot inside you, or tasted another man since.
“Have you been getting my packages?”
“Y-Yes…”
“Then why haven’t you called me back?” His fingers pinch your chin, forcing you to meet his dark gaze. “That was the deal, wasn’t it? I keep my mouth shut about what a little whore you are, and you do what I say.”
Your thighs clench and a sinking feeling fills your stomach. You’re almost certain you won’t be joining Sarah and the rest of the Pogues tonight, and it’s all because of the sick man in front of you. Tears stream down your cheeks, you feel helpless, not only to Rafe, but to your own confusing desires.
“Crying already? I’ve barely touched you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, peeking down the hall before pulling you towards his bedroom. You try to resist, but he just yanks harder, making you wince. “I’ve missed you, little sis, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
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nonushu · 4 months ago
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heavy heart - kim mingyu
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genre: angst | wc: 885 | warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, reader has no self-respect | mingyu x reader a/n: I'M SORRY FOR THIS, i got bored at work (i'm still at work right now)
you heard it from your friends first, as a warning that kim mingyu doesn’t want to be held down. they spoke with a mix of concern and resentment, recounting how many times he’d walk away from someone if they got too close. “he’s not the type to settle,” they said, the words ringing in your ears. 
the longer you kept your head pressed against the window, the more you wondered if he even cared at all.
you watched the rain trickle down the glass, each drop reminding you of each time you let him back into your life. the streetlights became blurred, making the outside world seem so distant that the only reachable source was mingyu. 
that familiar embarrassment heats your body, knowing how much of a fool you’re making of yourself right now.
you know you’re naive to think he’d even want to commit to something real, but you swear there were lingering feelings during the nights you spent together. the way he held you, the soft words he said in the dark—it all felt too genuine to believe he didn’t want to stay with you forever.
though kim mingyu was just a man you falsely envisioned to be perfect. those fantasies you filled the gaps of your mind with were of relationships that could never be. reality was far different, and deep down, you knew that. 
the notification from your phone made your head rapidly turn to what or who it might be. mingyu, hopefully, you thought. 
reading the name felt like a fever dream. as if it was any surprise, it’s the man you believed you could change. each moment was a painful tug to your heart but you always came back to it.
you opened his message, the illumination of the screen giving you a slight validation.  
[mingyu]: are you busy tonight?
you should’ve said yes, or a smarter move should’ve been to not reply at all. yet you never listened to your head when it came to him.
your fingers move in disappointment as you type in your reply. 
[you]: no, do you want to come over?
he replies in an instant.
[mingyu]: be there in 15. 
you sighed, staring at the screen in humiliation before tossing it aside. you knew this wasn’t good for you, but you’d tell yourself that if it was anyone else, they wouldn't be able to resist his charms either.
the minutes dragged by the seconds and finally, the doorbell rang. 
it’s almost shameful how quickly you get up to answer the door, but there he stood, looking effortlessly handsome as he always does. his presence filled the doorway and for a moment you felt like you’d rather get lost in this. 
with one look at you and no words spoken, he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours almost roughly. mingyu's bigger frame took control of the kiss, putting a hand around your waist and making you take steps backward to your living room. he shuts your door with his other hand behind him while still keeping you against him. 
mingyu kisses you like he means it, but you know it’s not real. the warmth of his hand attached to you feels like home, but you know it’s far from that. each touch and each breath was like he was trying to say something, but then again, you know he really isn’t.
tears welled up in your eyes as mingyu deepened the kiss. for some reason, you couldn’t pull back from this. even if you tried, you hate to admit that it’s the only thing keeping you going. 
you whimper loudly into the kiss causing mingyu to pull back. his brows furrow at the sight of you, now crying in his arms. 
mingyu frowns, confused. "are you not in the mood?"
you shook your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. "mingyu," you whispered, almost inaudible. “what’s holding you back?”
he sighed, letting you go and stepping back. "what do you mean y/n?”
“why can’t we date?” your voice cracking. you feel the walls close in, your tone getting too desperate. 
you hate when he looks at you like this. with pity and a hint of frustration in his features. “why can't we be serious about each other?”
your eyes, quick to become swollen, gaze up at mingyu who seemingly stares right back at you with no patience. 
“y/n,” he says, straightening his posture, making you feel smaller. “this can never be serious. you knew that from the start.”
you start to breathe heavier, the air getting thicker. “i-i know, but—”
“just call me back when you’re not so emotional.”
with that, he turned and left, shutting the door too harshly and leaving you alone in your apartment. the sound of the rain outside seemed to beat with your heart. you sank to the floor, your sobs blending with the patter of rain against the windows.
you felt the weight of mistakes, knowing you had let yourself fall mingyu. the realization stung, and you cried harder, the rain outside mirroring the storm inside you. the tears flowed freely, mingling with the bitter taste of regret of giving so much of yourself.
to mingyu, you were nothing more than a passing distraction. but you weren’t sure if that was enough to keep you away.
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