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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year ago

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I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin.

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm.

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after.

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well.

— I’ll find something to eat, alright?

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged.

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you.

— Ah…your father is at home?

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was.

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you.

— You didn’t tell him about me?

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly.

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh.

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart.

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home.

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed.

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen.

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid.

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished.

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel.

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son.

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl.

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it?

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years.

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like.

— Ja. You can have it.

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it.

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you.

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him.

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home.

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you.

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom.

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you.

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet.

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz.

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce.

— What do you mean by this, sir?

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally.

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid.

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship.

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you.

König is.

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you.

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man.

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this.

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father.

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too.

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir.

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing.

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all.

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks.

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies.

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right?

You look like a good candidate.

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz.

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left.

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here.

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body.

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him.

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is.

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway.

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all.

— I don’t want to break his heart.

— He doesn’t have one.

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it.

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted.

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game.

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later.

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum.

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please”

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable.

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later.

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before.

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people.

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right.

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore.

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid.

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second.

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this.

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it.

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed.

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good.

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father.

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it?

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m��god, I need to tell Paul.

— I’ll tell him.

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck.

— I need to return to my dorm.

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja?

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right.

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen.

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked.

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are.

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja?

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes.

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

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coquettepascal · 3 months ago

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texas sweet

summary: joel is your friendly neighborhood dad of the year, so why is his driveway empty on father's day? better yet, why do you feel the need to make up for everyone elses absence?

tags: 18+, smut, handjob, desc of joel mastubrating, a "massage", neighbor!joel x f!reader, massages, general cheesiness, soft!joel, pathetic!joel, almost(?) sub!joel, reader gets blueballed (sorry), biting, joel whimpering, joel being a proud girl dad, no-outbreak, ellie and sarah exist, tommy is mentioned(!!), joel is a southern gentleman, mention of reader having parents, no desc of reader but she can fit between joel and the couch, dilf!joel (yum)

a/n: my first joel fic ever... i would like to thank every person who has written no-outbreak!joel or pre-outbreak!joel. i freaked it.

(4.9k, not beta read.)

Moving to Texas was not the plan, or even the “blessing” your mother claimed it would be. Being the one who took over your grandparents home after they moved to a seniors facility? Fantastic! Amazing, even. Leaving your job, friends, and boyfriend, back home? Horrible. Heart wrenching and annoying.

Austin, for the most part, was lonely. Long distance didn’t end up working between you and your boyfriend, your friends just got busier with their jobs, and it wasn’t like your parents could just drive 14 hours to see you every weekend. Co-workers were nice, but honestly who really wants to hang out with people you already spend 40 hours a week with? Maybe you were jaded, or picky, which was what your mother also claimed, or maybe your whole life was uprooted for what felt like no reason.

What you weren’t picky about, was the view from your bedroom window. You’re not a peeping tom, or a perv, but it isn’t your fault that your dilf-y next door neighbor is so easy on the eyes.

No, moving to Austin was not a blessing, but Joel Miller was.

Joel was the neighborhood guy. Need an oil change? Joel. Need your fence fixed? Joel. Block party? Joel’s yard. It’s like he doesn’t know how to say no to anybody, that southern politeness deeper than the drawl that lies in his voice. When you had first moved here he had helped you move your couch through the door, all smiles and polite nods. He barely introduced himself before he was asking if you needed any help, and he had called you “young lady,” which made you giggle. Such a giving man, but of course he was. A single father to two daughters? “No” wasn't in his vocabulary.

Sometimes, you think if your dad was as good a father as Joel Miller was, maybe you wouldn’t be fiending after him with such ferocity. Watching him with his two girls, Sarah and Ellie, was something that tugged your heartstrings no matter what. Sarah wasn’t around a lot anymore, apparently she went away to a fancy college. You had helped her pack all her stuff into Joel’s truck, but quickly went inside when you saw him getting misty eyed, you didn't want to embarrass the poor guy. Ellie is younger than Sarah and still lives at home. Honestly, you didn’t know much about her apart from the fact that she was adopted and that she’s in high school. She’s always happy to chat, but she’s also always going somewhere, which leaves Joel lonely sometimes.

Joel seems better suited for loneliness than you are though. His brother Tommy comes around pretty often, though they seem fairly opposite. Tommy truly is sweet, has always chatted with you during block parties (even if it may be for nefarious reasons when he’s had too many drinks,) but he looks like… a fuckboy. Without fail, every time he rolls up to Joel’s house, he’s blasting some shitty new country music and wearing Pit Viper sunglasses as he carefully parks his spotless truck. Despite their differences though, they get along just as well. Your summer evenings are often interrupted by the sound of their laughs and the crisp sound of the two cracking open some cold ones.

So why is it that when Father’s day rolls around, Joel’s driveway is empty?

You aren’t watching on purpose, you just happen to glance over that way a lot. The only action you see from his house is Ellie leaving for her friend's house sometime after noon, like usual on a Sunday. No signs of Sarah or Tommy. Part of you figured that maybe Sarah would make the lengthy drive down from her school, or maybe that Tommy would show up at some point, but nobody does.

‘Not creepy,’ you assure yourself as you go upstairs to peer through your bedroom window to see if anyone is there. You could totally look through the kitchen window that directly faces his backyard, but you fear the day he’s looking right back at you.

Looking outside, you see nothing. Joel’s grey-blue truck sits unmoved in the driveway, his plants are watered though so you guess he came outside at some point. The thought makes you feel a bit sad, the image of Joel and his soft eyes watering the plants, whistling to himself and trying to tell himself it doesn’t matter that nobody came. He probably really doesn’t care at all, a lot of men aren’t very sentimental or emotional about days like this, but you care.

He’s a good man, a good father, and a good neighbor. Seeing him be underappreciated on what is basically his day is ticking you off for some stupid reason. When 3pm rolls around you decide that you have to do something for Joel, it feels wrong not to.

Which is how you end up in line for the register at Home Depot. You sat in the parking lot for 10 minutes racking your brain, trying to think of things that guys like, but came up with nothing. Joel is a contractor, so he’ll probably find some use out of a 50 dollar Home Depot gift card, but it still feels too impersonal. Joel literally fixed your toilet when a date you took home broke the handle off the tank mid-vomit. He’s too nice to just hand a stupid gift card with “Happy Father’s day” scrawled across the mini paper envelope. He deserves something thoughtful, something gentler than a gift card for (probably) his job.

…Which is how you end up waiting in line for the register at the supermarket. You have a bouquet of flowers in your hand, with a Home Depot gift card shoved in your jacket pocket. It feels utterly ridiculous to give Joel Miller flowers, to pick out which colours you think he’d like and get the florist to wrap them up neatly with a bow, but you have a good reason. At some point in the past week you had seen a post about how a lot of men never receive flowers. It resurfaced in your head as you picked your brain again, making you wonder if Joel had ever received flowers. You know that he was married once, but that was when Sarah was little, it’d probably been 10 or even 15 years since he had any gestures like that made for him.

Not that this was for romance reasons. It was for father’s-appreciation-day reasons. Of course.

Maybe you shouldn’t be so invested in your neighbors emotions and life, but it’s too late now. You carefully pack away the flowers in the back seat of your car, snuggling the gift card into the ribbon that holds the flowers together.

—

And if you thought that standing in line at Home Depot, or at the supermarket was bad, it’s so much worse trying to work up the courage to knock on Joel’s front door. You can’t figure out how to hold this bouquet of flowers behind your back without dropping them, so you just awkwardly knock on his door with one hand, flowers in the other. At least the gift card is managing to stay in place where you tucked it, but you wish you told the florist not to write his name in cursive.

Your repeating thoughts of “Is this weird? Am I weird?” are interrupted when he opens the door.

Joel looks… normal. He doesn’t look sad like you thought he might, if anything he looks more confused at you being there. His brown hair is tousled slightly and he’s wearing pajama pants, even though he smells fresh. Joel’s eyes meet yours and he tilts his head quietly, as if waiting for you to go on, but what do you even say? Oh shit that’s right–

“Happy father’s day,” your voice comes out shyly. You shove the flowers at him a little abruptly and he blinks in surprise, accepting them. It’s awkward for a second, the way his eyebrows shoot up as he notices the cursive lettering of his name written on the envelope.

“These’re for me, darlin’?” He asks curiously, still looking over the flowers.

A stammering of “um” and “yeah” leave your mouth pretty quickly and he smiles. You’re pretty sure he says thank you, but you just kind of stare at him awkwardly. A beat passes between the two of you as he admires the gift. “You uh– You don’t think of me as your dad, do you?” Joel asks. Oh fuck. You hadn’t thought about the fact that maybe that was what he would take away from this. All of your thoughts had been consumed by worries that he’d think you were trying to hit on him, but here he was thinking that you thought of him as a father figure. Which you didn’t. Your dad is fine, no need to replace him, at least not at this point.

“No, no. Oh my god– Sorry,” You choke out, half laughing. It’s a quiet moment on the porch for a second, just the two of you standing there. Maybe you should explain your thought process.

“It’s just that you’re a dad and like– not to sound like a weirdo freak but nobody’s been at your house all day and it made me sad for you. Not that I pity you but,” your voice trails off as you fear you’ve made this worse. Joel seems a bit surprised at this, mouth opening slightly but then transitioning to a soft smile.

“And what if I told you that I wanted everyone t’leave me alone today?” He asks you slyly. And oh god, that is so much worse than him mistaking this gesture for flirting or pity. You never would have thought that maybe the guy who does everything for everyone probably just wants to be left the hell alone for a gift. Your heart drops in your chest, taking all the blood in your face with it. Embarrassment floods you with a force you didn’t realize possible, stuttered apologies leaving your lips as fast as you can. Joel shakes his head, laughing quietly as you sputter “sorry” repeatedly, like a broken sprinkler.

“I’m jokin’, sweetheart. I appreciate this,” he says. The crows' feet by his eyes shouldn’t be as charming as they are, but combined with that rumbling laugh and smile… he could get away with anything. He plucks the Home Depot gift card from the ribbon and huffs a laugh, like he’s impressed.

Well that’s… something? It made him smile right? Maybe feeling bad for Joel was better than feeling stupid in front of him. You step back, towards the stairs of his porch, but he shakes his head. “You were really this worried?” He asks, admiring the flowers. That makes your heart bloom in your chest, seeing how much he really liked this. Joel didn’t seem much like a flower guy, but you saw the way he kept his yard neat, with tulips in the spring and his lawn trimmed squarely. Shyly, you nod in response to his question. It feels silly to worry for him like this, you don’t know if he considers you a friend the way he is in your head.

“S’awful sweet,” he tells you. Something about his presence is so big, a balance of hospitality and intimidation all at once. Maybe it’s his big stature, broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built for work. Or his voice, the strong timbre of it, humbled in southern twang. Joel is a force of warmth, a heat that can’t be contained. His heart shines through his golden skin, forcing whoever he looks at to have a spotlight. That’s where the intimidation lies, in how he makes you feel like there’s a halo over your head, all his attention right there.

He’s so hot you don’t even want him to look at you.

But there he is anyways, smiling as he admires the gift again, dorkily leaning in to dramatically huff the flowers. His mouth is moving but you're deafened by the sensation of a blush on your face. You thought it was just a silly little crush, because who wouldn’t find Joel attractive. He’s handsome, hard working, and just an all around traditional man. But this attraction… It's like your crush on him has given you tinnitus. His lips are moving and you aren’t registering the words. Wait shit, he’s speaking–

“Darlin’?” Joel calls. He looks at you, head tilted, and still fucking smiling. The way his eyes glimmer, the crows feet that squeeze them into a smile… Why is it so hard to hear him?

“I asked if you wanted to come in,” he repeats.

—

You’ve never been inside Joel’s house, but you’d never thought about it either. Being in it, now, it all makes sense. Photos of his daughters are framed everywhere, their achievements plastered on the walls in shines of silver and gold. It’s hard not to imagine Joel hunched over his kitchen counter, tediously cutting pictures out to place them in frames. He was only an idea before, an idea of a man, and now he has become one wordlessly. All it took was stepping inside his house, smelling him everywhere. Life dances in the jackets that are tossed over dining room chairs, the toolbelt dumped by the shoe rack at the door. The picture of Joel you held in your mind begins to come alive, the movements in the details of his life stealing your breath. He is more than a good man, he is a great one.

And now, you have to strike up a conversation with him.

Joel grunts as he sits down on the couch beside you, placing two glasses of water down. He places his glass in front of the can of beer sitting on a coaster, distorting the label to nothing but warped blue and red. Is he hiding that he was drinking? Why is that cute?

A pause hushes both of you as Joel gets comfortable, sitting down. He’s paused a show, but it just looks like it was whatever movie was playing on the local TV channel.

“You must be so proud of them,” you say, eyes glazing over the pictures of Sarah and Ellie. You can tell exactly which photos were taken with a camera and which were taken with his phone. One picture of Ellie, maybe when she was 13 or 14, is from her soccer tournament. She’s smiling, holding up a ribbon for MVP, and Joel’s thumb is in the bottom corner. It’s strange to realize that Joel has basically been a father twice over, but also admirable.

He talks for a little while, rambling about Sarah and her time up at college, and also how Ellie has been doing better in school this year. You always had a feeling Ellie was a bit feistier than Sarah was, but to hear how proud Joel is of her anyways makes your heart flutter. His love for them was so unconditional, so why weren’t they here today? You ask him, a half smile crossing his lips as he hears your question.

“Sarah called me ‘round lunchtime, one of them video calls. Had lunch with my girl and got to catch up with her. She’s so damn busy, y’know that? Always studying and,” he catches his breath, realizing he’s blabbing again. A reddish tone creeps up his neck in embarrassment.

“Point is, she called. Was nice of her, I miss her lots,” He finishes quietly.

Your eyebrow raises. He didn’t mention Ellie. Joel huffs.

“I’m 99% sure she’s over at Dina’s making me a gift, but it’s fine that she forgot. I’ve been on her ass about homework, fair’s fair.”

He looks cute when he’s begrudging, one side of his mouth sliding to the side so part of his cheek puffs over it. You nod, making a comment in response. The conversation is so smooth you forget what you’re saying as soon as you’re laughing.

This is easier than you thought it would be. Joel’s always been friendly, obviously, but you just assumed he would be more closed off than this. Even if it’s just rambling about his daughters, or Tommy, or the jobs he’s been managing and how annoying his clients are, it’s something more. Something more than the passing glances and small conversation you’ve had before.

You talk a bit about your own life, how tough the move to Texas was, how lonely it can be. Joel doesn’t seem as receptive to this, but there’s an understanding in his eyes that you can feel. He’s a tough clam to slide your knife into, and you doubt you’ll feel his tongue today. The eager blabber he has for his family and career doesn’t extend to himself, and it seems you’ve hit a wall with him. Or maybe you’ve hit too close to home. “Sorry,” you say, feeling a little weird.

This whole day has felt like you’re pulling against a lead Joel wasn’t even holding in the first place, like you’re always doing too much. But just like the rest of the day, he isn’t holding the rope around your neck. He’s surging forward with reassurances blooming out of his mouth, Texas sweet to the bone.

He shakes his head, telling you that it’s fine, he gets it. A joke about being a single father, a smile directed at you, consoling. Vaporub for your congested anxieties.

“I’m sorry darlin,” Joel starts, and fuck is he sending you home? Is that your cue to leave? You did too much, he was just being nice.

“-- I didn’t even offer you water when you came in. D’you need somethin’ to drink?” He asks.

God, doesn’t he get tired of being this nice? Your neighbors warned you that he was a grump when you first moved here, dirty liars.

“Oh, sure, uh. Water would be good, thanks,” you reply.

You’re only half paying attention to the grunt he lets out when he gets up the first time, your eyes busying themselves with the way his cotton tee stretches across the muscled planes of his back. But, after he hands you the glass of water and groans when he sinks back into the couch, you notice.

You down the glass like you’re parched, but really your mouth just needs to be full right now. The sound of his groans are bouncing in your ear canals as your neck flushes red with each gulp of water. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything.

“Bad back?” You ask after you catch your breath.

He hums in response, talking about how it comes with the job he has. “All that lifting in my early years…” as if he’s a thousand years old. Joel mentions that he’s been to the chiropractor a few times, thanks to Sarah’s begging and pleading.

“I don’t know, I think it’s gimmicky. They get you on the table and the guy feelin’ you up acts like he’s Christ himself,” Joel says, rolling his eyes.

The idea of Joel, shirtless and face down, grumbling as some guy works his hands over his skin. The idea of Joel groaning in relief as someone else works those knots out, God you wish you were a chiropractor, you wish you could put your hands all over him.

Greed hardens over your mind like a shell, and the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“I could– I could help, maybe. My dad used to have a pretty bad back and I kinda figured out how to work knots out.”

Joel’s eyes widen, looking over to you with mild interest. For the first time today, around Joel, you don’t feel like you’ve overstepped. In fact he looks interested in this offer. A beat passes between the two of you, hesitation caught in his throat it seems.

It’s probably super fucked up in his head, his younger neighbor coming over and offering to rub him down. But your mind is still greedy, coated in thoughts of his skin under your palms, and that southern rumble that’s given you dilf earworms.

He looks like he’s about to say no when you speak again.

“You don’t even have to lay down, or take your shirt off. Could just lift it up,” you offer.

Joel still looks like he’s going to say no, the left side of his mouth raising to make up some reason. You can’t let him, not when you’ve been this ballsy. Walking out of here now would make this infinitely more awkward.

“It’s your day, Joel,” you supply him with a reason to say yes. The reason might be silly, might be a last minute add-on to his father’s day, but who cares.

Apparently not Joel, since he pulls his shirt up to his shoulders, the fabric scrunching around his broad frame.

—

You feel a little stupid, slotted behind Joel on the couch. The two of you are basically shoved up against one another, Joel wriggling to give you access to his lower back. He hasn’t said anything yet, no reassurance that this backrub is any good. You think you’re doing well, you feel the knots loosening. It might be better this way, him not making noise. The groan you heard earlier was more than enough to push you into a frenzy.

Your hands work further down, where his waist begins to pull in. Looking closer you can see where the softness of his tummy is, a fatherly badge of honor. Continuing your movements, you gently press your thumbs into the flesh there, and earn yourself Joel’s first noise.

Not a grunt, groan, complaint, or cuss. A whimper.

Your voice clashes with his, both of you talking over each other accidentally.

“Are you okay–” you ask as his voice flounders again, a “Darlin--” leaving him out of his own volition.

Pulling your hands away you begin to pull his shirt back down his back, mortified. How could you claim you were good at this and then hurt his back more? Joel’s been through enough today.

“Please don’t stop,” Joel’s voice grabs your brain again, forcing your focus.

He’s sliding his shirt up again, just by rolling his shoulders as he hunches over, waiting for you to continue. His face is in his hands, and his ears are pink. It’s the first time he’s asked you for anything tonight, you can’t refuse him.

Placing your hands back where they were, you begin to massage again. It seems like his lower back is the main problem, with the way he’s grunting into his palms. As your hands work away the aches he begins to swear to himself.

“Fuck,” he grunts as your thumbs dig deep, soothing a pain he hasn’t felt eased in years.

This is good. Pride spreads in your chest, knowing he feels better. Your hands work away, and you get laser focused on untangling these massive knots in his back. Eventually you break your focus, switching to softer rubs and small scratches up and down his back.

Tearing your eyes away from his skin, you realize the throw pillow that was beside you earlier is gone. The yellow corner of the cushion peeks at you from where you saw Joel’s belly earlier, over his lap. A thick forearm is crushing it into himself there, the veins in his neck pulsing.

Flames lick up your face, onto the tips of your ears and down your neck, heating your spine. Is he aroused right now? “Joel?” You ask quietly.

He shakes his head, voice tight.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Just– it just feels nice,” he admits.

Your hands pause. Okay, so he’s admitted he’s hard. What do you do now? Keep rubbing his back and blueball the poor guy? On Father's day? That seems mean, and awkward. Everything about this is awkward though, so it couldn’t really get worse.

“I could… I could help it feel better,” you offer meekly.

You’re not scared of a dick. You aren’t. Your voice is quiet because it seems like he is horribly ashamed of this, probably feeling guilty.

Joel rubs a hand over his face.

“You don’t have to, you can just go,” he says, but his voice betrays him. Need is sewn in his tone, a desperation.

Part of you wonders how long it’s been since someone touched him like this as you reach around, palming the front of his jeans. The hiss he lets out tells you it’s been awhile. How wrong that is, an attractive man like Joel being forced to get his own rocks off.

Getting the button and fly of his jeans down is difficult when you can’t see, even worse when your brain is making up images of Joel masturbating. He’s so shy when he’s being touched, does he bite his sheets? Bite his other fist in the shower? Poor boy, he deserves this.

His hips lift off the couch to help you shove his jeans and briefs down. Joel’s bare ass slides against you and he cringes. “Is it okay if you don’t look?” He asks.

You hate that he seems so insecure, but you’re not going to push him. Nodding into his skin, you press your face to his back, resting your cheek near the blade of his shoulder. He’s heavy in your palm, warm skin with veins your fingers can trace over.

Telling him that he’s big feels redundant, you’re sure he knows that about himself. Neither of you seem very sure about what you’re doing, the shuddering breaths from his chest matching your hesitant grasp around his cock.

“Are you okay?” You ask again.

Joel nods into his hand, asking you to please touch him.

Admittedly, it’s a dry hand job, but Joel doesn’t seem to mind. The flick of your wrist is fluid, even if your arm is cramping from being wrapped around him. Joel lets out these little noises, grunts and whines. His hand is covering his eyes while the other one rests lightly on your forearm, like he wants to know that you’re still there.

Need is exuding from him, making his desperation take over his need to really give a shit about how submissive he might be appearing. He shudders particularly hard as you squeeze on the upstroke, voice choking.

“Shit– shit, please,” he gasps, “please can I spit in your hand?”

It’s a little surprising, but again, you can’t refuse him. You say “yeah” into his skin, closing your eyes as you feel him spit into your hand. It’s filthy, his saliva on you as he guides your hand to jerk him off. Joel uses your palm to slick the head of his dick, teasing himself on your skin.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him be selfish all day. Part of you wants to call him a good boy, but part of you also knows this might not be normal for Joel. Hell, this isn’t normal for you either.

Instead, you ask him if it’s good. A rasped “yes,” emanates from him between a low groan and a curse. Your head lifts from his back as he begins to shudder, his orgasm creeping closer. Listening to him is so good, you’re a mess between your legs, where your core nudges his ass.

Without a thought, you sink your teeth into the meat between his shoulder and his neck. Not enough pressure to bruise or hurt, just to let him know you’re there. There was no intention to push him over the edge, but your little bite does. A guttural groan is forced out of him as he comes into your hand, stringing sticky between your fingers.

“Fuck– fuck I’m sorry, oh my god,” he pants, shivering.

Your head is shaking again, reassuring him that it was okay, that he’s okay.

“It’ll wash off,” you joke, feeling the stick of him on you.

—

Joel does help you wash it off, once he’s done redressing. He’s clingy though, arms around your waist and chin hooked over your shoulder as you wash your hands in his kitchen sink. He’s definitely sleepy, eyes blinking slowly when you peek at him while you dry your hands.

You step close to him, your damp hands meeting his dry ones. The awkward spirit of the evening has been killed off, his shyness melted away.

“Usually I’d offer to return the favor but… I have to pick up Ellie from her friend’s house now. I’m really sorry, darlin’,” he admits.

Shaking your head, you push away the negative feeling that surfaces. How are you supposed to go back to being neighbors after that? But also, what did you really expect?

Joel leads you to the door, legs a bit shakey. A smug feeling joins the negative ones in your chest at that, but it’s not enough.

“I really do apologize,” Joel says again, “but this just gives me an opportunity to see you again. If you’d like, obviously. I think I owe ya dinner.”

And there he is, not holding your lead but reassuring your heart. He wants to see you again.

Your eyes meet his in the dim light of the hallway, catching those sweet eyes in your own. He looks so hopeful, so apologetic too.

“I’d like that, but you don’t owe me anything. It’s Father’s day,” you point out.

Joel rolls his eyes. This Father’s day excuse is a little overused between the two of you now, but it’s still cute to him since you’re the one saying it. He opens the door for you, slipping his own boots on and grabbing his keys.

“Fine,” Joel says, “but when Pretty Neighbor day rolls around, you let me know.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #hbo!joel #neighbor!joel #tlou fanfiction #dilf!joel #reader insert #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller smut

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thesacrificialdove · 22 days ago

Text

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition.

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right?

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

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thisapplepielife · 3 months ago

Text

Written for a @astrangersummer.

Tip Your Driver

Of all the shitty service jobs Steve's had, this one is definitely among the worst.

And he's been stuck working some pretty shitty jobs over the years, both before and after they moved out here. If he hadn't hated the one at the shoe store so much, because ew feet, he wouldn't be doing this in the first place. At least that was in one location, a steady paycheck, and not that far from their apartment. But, he didn't know that feet draw in some weirdos, so here he is, lugging other people's shit around, because he needs the money.

He just sighs as he pulls up in front of the address on the app. He double checks the posted numbers over the garage, and it seems to be the right place. Everything matches enough for him to call it good.

The house is really nice.

It's not in The Hills or anything, so he hadn't expected something so nice.

Now, Steve doesn't mind delivering groceries, not really, but this guy, Eddie it says, ordered a bunch of heavy shit, and the tip was only the mediocre bare minimum. Which, he wasn't that mad about, until right now, after he's seen the house this guy lives in.

No, now he's pretty annoyed.

Whatever. Par for the fucking course from Fancy Pants Rich McGee over here. How the hell you spell chauffeur? Chauffeur. Indeed. Maybe he should make tiktoks about situations just like this. Robin keeps hounding him, saying if he'd just do it, that he could rake in a little extra cash.

He's skeptical.

Steve looks back at the house.

Oh well. He left his money behind for a reason, the only thing he kept was his car because his parents were dumb enough to put it in his name. And honestly? It does him no good to be jealous or whatever the fuck he's feeling right now.

At least this guy had been responsive, and pretty nice, when answering Steve's messages about substitutions and out of stock items. Not everybody is, unfortunately, acting as if Steve is the one stocking the store himself.

Steve opens the back hatch of his car, and leans in to grab the first items to be left at the door, as requested. If they don't see you, they feel less bad about the shitty tip, Steve's learned.

But it's fine. Steve doesn't want to deal with anyone face-to-face today, anyway. Because he needs to hurry. He and Robin are already a couple days late on rent, and he's gotta try to make up the difference today. If not, they're gonna be fucking screwed. Why is this city so goddamn expensive to live in? It's bullshit.

"Let me help," comes the voice right next to him, and Steve jumps, hitting his head on the open hatch door.

Now, he's skipped over annoyed and has been vaulted straight into pissed off.

Partly at himself for being so far in his own head that he didn't even hear this guy approaching, but mainly at this asshole for even being in his personal space in the first place. He needs to take about three big steps back.

"Oh, fuck! Sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" the guy shouts, and Steve hasn't even seen this asshole yet, but he knows he hates him.

"Most people don't help unload the car," Steve snaps, turning to look at him, and the guy is looking back at him with big, big brown eyes. Robin would call them doe eyes, without a doubt. Well, fuck. Fine. Steve softens his tone, "It's okay. I just wasn't expecting you."

"Sorry," Eddie says again, still too close. "I'm Eddie. I ordered the groceries. Can I help? Please?"

Steve nods, and lets him reach in and grab his own case of water, while Steve picks up a few of the sacks. It's the least the guy can do, now that he's given him a headache. Literally.

Steve carries the sacks towards the porch, and leans over to put them down.

"Just come on in," Eddie says, and the door swings open, banging against the rubber doorstop on the wall.

"Don't bang the door!" comes the yell from the other room, and Steve peers into the house and sees an older guy sitting in a lift chair, with a walker in front of him.

"It's my door, old man, I'll bang it if I want to!" Eddie yells back, but there's no heat there. Steve can hear the teasing affection in his voice, and Steve can't help but smile.

"Don't come crying to me when there's a hole in your wall. Can you patch drywall? Because I can't right now," the guy, probably Eddie's dad the way they're bickering, snaps.

Eddie ignores the question from his dad.

"C'mon, this way," Eddie says, looking over his shoulder at Steve, as Steve lingers on the step.

Well, no. That's not. You don't go in stranger's houses. It's, like, rule one. And just good common sense. Which apparently Steve has none of, because he does follow Eddie into the house.

Robin will kill him, if this Eddie dude doesn't kill him first.

Steve puts the bags down on the counter, and heads back out to make another trip, Eddie following, "That's my uncle. He's just crotchety that he had to have his broken hip replaced, and now he's dependent on me for the near future."

Steve laughs, "Well, maybe don't bang the door and he won't be crotchety."

"You heard me. It's my door," Eddie says, smiling wide. He's pretty, very pretty. Long, dark hair tied up on top of his head, and heavy tattoos all along his arms, creeping up onto his neck.

He's honestly gorgeous.

Steve wonders if he's famous. He doesn't look familiar, but he looks like he could be famous. And his house is pretty fucking nice. This is L.A. Everybody is somehow famous in L.A. Except for Steve and Robin. They are definitely not famous.

Unless he's a tech bro? But he doesn't really look the type.

Either way, famous or not, Steve smiles back, can't not, not when he looks like that, then asks, teasing him, "Well do you know how to patch drywall?"

"Fuck no. But I could hire someone to fix it if the door knob somehow gets through the stopper."

"Well, at least you have a plan," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

"He just hates the city. Hates my house. Hates everything. Except me. He loves me," Eddie says, as he grabs a case of Gatorade in one hand and the case of pork and beans in the other.

That's a lot of beans.

"That's a lot of beans," Steve says aloud, even if he doesn't mean to, even if he knows better than to comment on other people's groceries.

But Eddie laughs. "Tell me about it. Man likes what he likes, though. There's no changing him now."

Steve nods, grabbing another handful himself. It's nice that Eddie is taking care of his uncle.

"I'm not usually home much, hence all the groceries being ordered at once. Sorry about that. The cabinets were pretty bare, and I just didn't want to leave him home alone. He's still a fall risk, even if he keeps insisting he's not."

"That's okay, I understand. Big orders are more common than you'd think," Steve says, stepping back into the house that he's probably not going to get murdered in, thankfully.

Big orders are common, he's not lying about that, and more often than not, the tips offered for shopping hundreds of items, are less than you'd think. So, this order wasn't even out of the ordinary. Not really. That's why Steve took it. Some pay was better than none, especially today, that's for sure.

"Still. I'm grateful. You saved my ass today, man," Eddie answers.

"Well, it's my job," Steve says, and Eddie laughs.

They finish bringing everything in, and Steve nods at Eddie, "Okay. I think that does it."

"Here," Eddie says, and plucks an envelope off the counter, "I always worry that your tips in the app will get eaten up by the corporate assholes taking their cut off the top. So. Cash is king."

Steve takes the envelope. A tip he doesn't have to report? Why thank you, Eddie.

"Thank you. You didn't have to do this, or help bring it in, you know? But I appreciate both."

Eddie smiles, "Thank you for getting all that shit for us. We both appreciate it. Don't we Wayne?"

Wayne grumbles, but Steve's pretty sure he doesn't appreciate anything right now. He knows he wouldn't either, if he had broken his hip.

They say their goodbyes, and that's that. Steve will never see Eddie with the pretty eyes ever again.

At the next red light, Steve opens the envelope, expecting an extra ten or twenty bucks, maybe, but is shocked to see that there are three, insanely crisp one hundred dollar bills inside.

Holy shit.

That's way more than he usually makes in a single day. Two days, even. Just by delivering one order that he didn't think was gonna pay well at all.

And he got to look at a hot dude for a minute or two.

It's enough to cover what they were short on the rent, even. It might not have felt like a lot of money to Eddie, if he handed it over so readily, but it feels life-changing to Steve, right now. He remembers when three hundred bucks wasn't anything to him either, back when he had access to all his parents' money and all their unhappiness.

Now, it's different.

Robin's gonna shit.

Hot damn.

Thank you, Eddie.

"Booyah," Steve says, slapping the envelope on the counter.

Robin picks it up, and thumbs through it. It has Eddie's tip, and the few extra bucks he picked up during the rest of the day.

"Oh my god, no way! Where did you get this much cash, dingus? Are you turning tricks on the side now?" Robin asks, and Steve laughs.

"Yes. I thought I'd see what I could get for this ass," Steve says, turning and pushing his ass outwards in her direction.

She doesn't even look, but says, "Honestly, you might be worth more than this, as much as I hate to admit it," she comments dryly, and he smiles.

"No, some rich dude that ordered a bunch of heavy shit gave me a big tip," Steve explains.

"That's what she said," Robin teases, and her eyes are still wide as she looks at the bills in her hand, "Seriously, though. Thank you, rich, old dude," Robin says.

"Rich, but not old. I think he might have been famous in some way. YouTuber? Musician? I don't know. Nice house."

"Well. Describe him. Let's Google him," Robin says, wiggling her fingers in the air like she's stretching before this big task she's about to undertake.

Steve isn't sure searching for him is gonna work, but he lets her try, "Eddie. Probably a little older than us. Lots of tattoos."

"Was it Eddie Vedder? Please tell me you know who Eddie Vedder is, dingus?"

He knows who Eddie Vedder is, Jesus.

He gives her a look, "Not that old. And he was heavily tattooed. Is Eddie Vedder tattooed? Plus, this guy had dark eyes. Really dark. And no flannel."

She keeps looking on her phone, showing him options, "Him?"

No.

"Him?"

No.

"Him?"

"No. Not him." None of them are. Nobody she shows him is the same guy. So, he thinks of all the famous Eddies he knows of.

"Was it Eddie Van Halen?" Steve asks.

"Since he's dead, probably not," Robin says.

"Oh," Steve says. He didn't remember that. And he'd be too old, anyway. "We're looking for someone that looks kinda like young Eddie Van Halen. But with tattoos."

"You're obsessed with the tattoos. Was it Ed Sheeran? He has lots of tattoos," Robin asks, and he rolls his eyes.

"Robin. I think I know what Ed Sheeran looks like. This man was not ginger. Dark hair, dark eyes. And he was American. Maybe this guy is just rich? Not famous at all. It doesn't matter. I'll never see him again, anyway. We'll just thank him from afar for saving our asses today."

Robin sighs heavily, and puts her phone down, "If you'd got yourself a rich boyfriend we'd have it made all the time."

"Well, I'll work on that," he says sarcastically.

At least for now, they can pay another month's rent. That's a big win. Huge.

Maybe they can keep their heads above water, now.

And they do, by some sort of miracle. It was only three hundred bucks, but that was enough of a windfall to get them back in the black. And somehow they've stayed ahead since, for nearly two whole months. They haven't been this stable financially since they arrived in town.

Today, Steve flips through the different apps he drives for, trying to decide what order to take, when he sees a huge pizza order. The order is absurdly big, but the tip is decent, and picking up a stack of pizzas is infinitely easier than shopping a whole-ass grocery list. Steve's just seriously questioning if it'll all fit in his car.

He's gonna risk it.

Luckily, it does, but there are pizza boxes piled high in every seat and the rear. He definitely doesn't have hot bags for all of them. Hopefully he doesn't get caught in traffic.

The area seems familiar, but when Steve pulls up in front of the house, he knows why. Eddie. Only, the last time it was groceries, not food, that he delivered here.

There are vehicles everywhere. Clearly some sort of party, Steve thinks, to require this amount of pizza. And as soon as Steve steps out of the car, Eddie is out of the house, being trailed by three other, mostly leather-clad, guys. It'd look threatening, if Eddie wasn't smiling so big.

"Steve! When I saw Steve was my driver, I was like, maybe? But Steve's a common name, and there was no picture, so I didn't get my hopes up, but hey! It is you!" Eddie shouts, moving to the back of the car, "Watch your head this time, sweetheart," Eddie adds, and Steve is sure he's blushing.

He just stands there kind of dumbly, watching as Eddie commandeers his order right out of Steve's vehicle. Eddie's definitely unusual.

Eddie hands stack after stack of pizzas to the waiting guys, making them carry the bulk of it. And Steve watches as they ferry them off towards the house, Steve not having to even lift a finger this time.

Now, it's just him and Eddie standing on the curb.

Eddie holds out an envelope, and Steve looks at it.

"Man, thank you, but you tipped so well last time, you really don't have to again."

"I want to. You provide a service, I want to pay for that service," Eddie says, shaking the envelope, and Steve reluctantly takes it. Whatever is inside, will really help him and Robin stay ahead. It did last time. He's not really in a position to say no, even as well as they are doing at the moment.

"Thank you, truly," Steve says, tucking it into his pocket, "How's your Uncle Wayne's hip?"

Eddie smiles, so fucking wide, "You remembered! He's good. Great. Headed home soon, which I'm certain he's thrilled about. He's definitely never coming here again. I'll have to go home when I want to see him."

Steve laughs, "Glad to hear he's better, if annoyed."

"Do you want to stay?" Eddie asks, "We're having a little going away party for him. The more the merrier. Or, is your shift not over? You could come back?"

Steve doesn't have a shift, he can clock in and out to take orders as he pleases, and right now he'd really like to accept Eddie's offer. Even if it's probably just Eddie being polite. A pity ask, if you will.

"You don't have to invite your delivery driver into your house, you know? I could be a murderer."

"Unlikely," Eddie says, "and I'm not inviting my delivery driver. I'm inviting you, Steve."

Steve thinks over the options, and then nods. He can go in for a bit. If he's uncomfortable, he can get right back on the clock, no harm, no foul.

"Okay, let me park," Steve says, and he does just that. Putting the envelope of cash into the glove box without opening it. He doesn't want Eddie to see him scrounging through it. That feels tacky.

The pizza boxes are already open on every available flat surface in the kitchen and living room, and Eddie shoves a paper plate into Steve's hands, "Eat. Drink. Be merry."

Steve nods, and grabs a slice from the nearest box. He's not picky.

The house is full of people, and a lot of them seem vaguely famous. Like this is an industry thing, instead of a going away party for an old man with a newly not-broken hip.

Steve's worked enough of these events. They tried the catering thing for a while, and it was fine, for Steve anyway. Robin was just a little too clumsy to carry trays of dainty hors d'oeuvres around rooms filled with beautiful women in expensive dresses.

This isn't any of that though. This is cases of beer being chilled in kiddie pools, and dozens of pizzas. Fancy house, but not a fancy party. Steve spots Eddie's uncle sitting by himself on a couch, a beer resting on his knee and a paper plate of pizza on the arm rest.

Nobody else is sitting by him, so Steve goes over, "Can I sit?"

Wayne grumbles something that could be yes, could be no, Steve's not wholly sure, but he chooses to go ahead and sit down beside him.

"How's your hip?" Steve asks.

"Who are you?" Wayne asks, looking at him, suspicious.

"Steve. Uh, a delivery driver? I've brought a couple orders to you guys now. And Eddie invited me to stay."

Wayne nods, and goes back to his plate, "Hip's fine. Ready to go home."

"Where's home?" Steve asks, and he's not sure why. Clearly this man has no interest in making small talk with him.

"Indiana," Wayne says.

"Hey! For me, too. Small world."

"What're you doing in California, then?" Wayne asks. "Trying to get into show biz?"

"No. No way," Steve laughs, "Not for me. Uh, my best friend? Robin? She wanted to move out here. Wanted an adventure. And I wanted her to be happy. So. Here we are."

Wayne nods.

"Did you break your hip in Indiana and Eddie dragged you all the way out here?" Steve asks.

"No," Wayne answers, "I came to visit him and broke my hip before I got out of the airport. This is why I don't take vacations."

Steve smiles, "That's bad luck. Sorry."

Wayne nods his head, and Steve assumes that's the end of this conversation, and they sit in silence for a few moments.

"You're Steve? The one that brought the groceries a few weeks ago?" Wayne asks.

"That's me," Steve confirms.

"He's been talking about you non-stop. I was like, just order more groceries. So, he tried. It was never you. Now we have more food than he'll ever eat. Probably need to take it to the food pantry."

Steve grins, looking down at his plate. He isn't sure what Eddie would want to see him for. They definitely aren't on the same level.

Eddie is across the room, talking wildly with his hands.

"He's a good kid," Wayne says, quietly, "All this? Not him. Not all of him, anyway."

Steve looks back at Wayne, "What do you mean?"

"All this fancy shit. I'm proud of him that their music has done so well. But he's a good kid. And he just wants to be happy."

"Don't we all," Steve says.

"People take advantage. If you're here for the money, for the fame. Just. Move on. Eddie would give it to you. But he wants something more. Needs it, I think."

Steve thinks he could be something more. But he doesn't really have anything to offer Eddie in return, and maybe heeding Wayne's warning wouldn't be such a bad idea. What business does he have getting involved with a famous musician? None.

"Got it," Steve says. "Well, I'm glad your hip healed."

Wayne grumbles at that, and it makes Steve smile.

Steve puts his trash in the can, and looks around. The hallways are lined with platinum records, news articles, and he leans close to read the name. Eddie Munson. Corroded Coffin. He's never heard of them. He'll have to look them up on Spotify.

He doesn't belong here.

He takes one last look at Eddie.

Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin.

He tries to memorize his name, his band, so he can tell Robin later, solving their little mystery.

And then he ducks out of the front door, walking down the long driveway towards his car.

"Hey, Steve! Wait!" Eddie yells from behind him, and Steve slows.

"Hey, man. Thanks for having me," Steve says, turning to look at him.

"You're leaving already?"

Steve nods, "Work, you know."

Eddie nods, "Okay. Well. Come back. Anytime."

"Thanks, Eddie," Steve says, because he's pretty sure Eddie means that, "Enjoy your party. I'm glad Wayne's hip is good as new."

Steve turns to keep walking.

"Steve. Uh," Eddie says, and Steve considers pretending he didn't hear him. It'd be easy. The music is loud, probably pissing off the neighbors, but Eddie keeps talking. "Listen. I like you. Yeah, I know. I barely know you. But. We got good vibes, man. Can you not feel that?" Eddie asks, and when Steve turns to look back at him, he sees that Eddie's hands are shoved deep into his pockets.

He looks nervous.

He's famous, clearly rich, and beautiful. He could have anyone he wants. But he looks nervous talking to Steve. Who delivered the pizza. Make it make sense. Goddamn.

"Eddie," Steve says.

"Do you not feel it? If you don't, I'll leave you alone. I swear. But if you do…"

Steve nods, "I do. But I'm a delivery driver. I live in a tiny apartment that I share with my best friend. We barely make ends meet. You could have anyone. Why would you want me?"

"Because I like you," Eddie says, "and I want to get to know you. I didn't grow up with anything either. I'm not old money. I'm new money. Brand new. So. I'm not that out of touch yet."

Steve smiles. He's old money, he just doesn't have access to it anymore. Eddie's new money, and doesn't know how to handle it. They'd be quite the pair.

Eddie keeps talking, trying to wheedle a date out of him, "Just. Let me take you out. Just us. Let's see if there's anything here," he says, motioning his hand between the two of them.

Steve wants to, he really does.

"Okay," Steve finally says, "nothing fancy. A normal date."

"We can definitely do that," Eddie says, and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone. "Let me give you my number."

Steve rattles off his number, Eddie texts him, and it buzzes against Steve's thigh. Already coming through, showing he's serious.

"Dinner? Movie? Bar? You name it," Eddie offers, eyes never leaving Steve's.

"Dinner's good. Nowhere fancy, though," Steve warns.

"Do I look like I like fancy places?" Eddie asks, looking down at his own clothes.

And Steve's eyes cut back to the gorgeous house.

Eddie laughs, "Fair enough. But I don't."

"Can you go out in public? Or are you too famous?" Steve asks. "I'm not familiar with your band, sorry."

Eddie laughs, "I think I like that you aren't, sweetheart. That means that maybe you like me, just for me. And I can go out. Nobody cares about me all that much."

Steve nods. Alright. They can go on one date, and see how it goes.

Well. That's how it goes.

Very, very well.

So well, that Steve's now satisfied and loose in Eddie's bed, when Eddie laughs, rolling into Steve's shoulder, face pressed to his skin. Lips kissing his shoulder, biting at him gently. Playing with him.

"What?" Steve asks, smiling as Eddie slides his hand into his, squeezing. "What's so funny."

"I tipped my driver," Eddie chokes out, laughing around each word, pressing his crotch into Steve's thigh.

Steve laughs, looking down at this ridiculous man clinging to him, "That you did. And damn well."

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

#a stranger summer #week fifteen #prompt: modern au #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #wayne munson #stranger things fic #robin buckley #stranger things 4 #steddie #platonic stobin #steve x eddie #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer

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smartkookiee · 17 days ago

Text

How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || CH.2 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。 ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader {she/her, afab} ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, fluff (tooth rot worthy), yay first date woohooooo, Jungkook having an immense knowledge about fish(like a nerd), rom com clichés left and right, cute Jungkook, early 2000’s rom com vibes??, kissing, drinking (if you squint), ❥word-count: 8.6k ❥Series Masterlist Previous Chapter ||❥|| Next chapter fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

“I can’t believe you’re going out with him tomorrow.” Ronnie bumped her hip against yours as she sat down on your couch next to you, “And on a Sunday.”

It was the night after. Jungkook sent you a nice good morning text and asked if you were available tomorrow to go out. You had tried–really tried–to come up with any possible excuse to put off the date but alas fell short. So you agreed, you thought sooner this got started the sooner you could be done with it.

“Well we have to start somewhere.” Which wasn’t a lie, Jungkook’s text was a surprise. “I actually didn’t expect him to act so soon.”

Ronnie laughed, clearly amused, “What are you guys going to do? Dinner? Dancing? Skydiving?”

“I don’t know.” You slumped back further into the cushions. “He said he was planning something. I made a jab about him about not being a serious guy, and now he’s all, I’ll show you how serious I can be.”

“How serious he can be? It’s a first date not a proposal.”

“We’ll see, I guess. Honestly, I have no idea how to go about this. I’m supposed to date him, but then, you know... gradually become annoying.” You gestured vaguely, not even sure what annoying would look like yet.

“I know just who can help with that.” Ronnie patted you on the knee and then immediately started typing frantically on her phone.

“Oh no,” You knew immediately what she was doing.

Twenty minutes later, a myriad of knocks came from your front door. Opening your door, and in walked Jin with a flourish, his signature grin plastered across his face. In one hand, he held a bottle of wine, and in the other, a notepad that looked suspiciously like it had been used for devious plans before. He paused dramatically in the doorway, like a game show host about to reveal a grand prize.

“I’ve been summoned.” Jin declared, his voice as grand as his entrance.

An already exhausted sigh leaves you, “Oh hi. So good to see you, come on in.” Your voice drips with sarcasm. You let your door close and you make your way back onto the couch next to Ronnie. Settling in for whatever Jin clearly had prepared

Jin had placed himself in the front of your living room, like he had prepared a full presentation just for this occasion. “I was told my assistance was needed so I am here to grant it.” He did a small bow before the two of you and you roll your eyes

“Here we go.” You tease but Jin looked a little offended.

“You,” He hits your leg with his note pad, and your mouth falls open at the gesture. “My dear, have a tendency to stray from the goal. You’re going on a date with this guy–”

“You told him?” You gave a side eye to Ronnie, you were of course going to tell Jin but probably after.

Innocently, Ronnie shrugged. "You need a strong team to help you, who better than Jin to have around.”

“Exactly.” Jin perked up and you decided to surrender and listen. “As your coach I am going to make sure we get make to the end game…” He gestures to you like he is expecting your answer.

“To lose the guy in 30 days.”

“Correct!” Jin pulls a pen seemingly out of nowhere, Marking something down on his notepad. “One point for you.”

“Wait, we are getting points?” Ronnie perked up, her clear competitive side showing through.

“Indeed!” Jin confirmed with a grin, enjoying the theatrics. “Anyways—”

“Hold on.” You cut him off, curiosity getting the better of you. “What do we get if we win?”

Jin paused, clearly not expecting this twist. He groaned, tapping his pen against his chin, deep in thought. After a moment, he dramatically sighed. “Fine. I’ll buy your dinner next time we go out.”

“Deal,” You and Ronnie said in unison, sharing a knowing look. Giving each other a sportsmanlike handshake.

Jin waits for a moment like he is a teacher in class, “ May I begin?” You and Ronnie both nod and settle back into the couch. “Firstly we need to go over your big rules for this.”

“Rules?”

“Important things to remember!” Jin cleared his throat. With a quick flip of his notepad, he glanced down, all business now. “Rule number one—”

“You made some already?” You interrupt him again.

He cut you off with a finger to his lips, “Number one. We will not be falling in love with Jungkook.”

“I’m not going to fall in love with him. I don’t even know him!” You sit up with some protest.

Jin narrowed his eyes, his glare accusing. “You have a tendency to fall a little too easily for wit and charm! Remember, Jungkook is a serial fuck boy!.” Jin paused for effect and turns around his notepad and underlines the note he has that says, in all caps: SERIAL FUCKBOY. Followed by other rules and scribbles along the rest of the page.

Ronnie let’s out a small laugh and you resign yourself back, “Okay fair point.”

“What’s the first rule?” Jin repeats pointing his pen back at you.

“We will not fall in love with Jungkook!” Ronnie raises her hand but blurts it out and you just huff. Although this rule was fair, you knew it but it didn’t feel great to be called out on it.

“Point to Ronnie. Rule number two.” Jin waves his pen around in the air like its a wand, “Be annoying at any given opportunity but not too annoying. So sending too many texts, memes,, calling him at inappropriate times.”

“Or calling one too many times!” Ronnie added on to the end of his statement.

“Half point for adding an idea.” Jin scribbled on his pad for a moment.

You scratched the side of your head, feeling a twinge of discomfort. “Okay, this one might actually be hard.”

Jin arched a brow. “Why?”

You shifted a little, pulling your knees up onto the couch. “I’m not really the overbearing type. I usually let people have their space, give them time... It’s just not who I am.”

Jin clicked his tongue, wagging his finger at you like a disappointed parent. “This is why you need to fight your people-pleasing instincts! A delicate task, but one you must master.”

You sighed, already feeling the internal battle. “I know, I know. I’ll try.”

“Good girl,” Jin praised, patting your head dramatically. “If it’s too hard, just let one of us take over. We’ve got no skin in the game, so we can be as obnoxious as we want.” He gestured to himself and then Ronnie, who had an evil expression across her face.

“I’ll take any opportunity to torture a man.” Ronnie wiggled her eyebrows at you, and nudged her with your shoulder.

Jin clapped his hands together, refocusing the energy in the room. “Now, what’s rule number two?”

“Be annoying at any given opportunity.” You sigh and repeat it back to him.

“Point to Y/N.” Jin marked down on his notepad again, “Rule number three. This is not going to be a serious relationship. Period.”

“This is a rule?”

“More like a reminder.” Jin looked a bit more serious, “You have a tendency to fall into the I can fix him trap. That is not the case here, this guy does not want anything long term. So you have to avoid your natural attachment instincts.”

“As well as your situation will be starting on false pretenses.” Ronnie pointed out, which was true. All of this was starting on a lie. An experiment.

“Okay that’s fair.”

Funny enough though, this is the most detached you had ever felt going into a first date. Other first dates you had been really nervous or really excited and you were thinking through every word and every touch a little too deeply. This time felt totally laid back and different. Like it might be easy and you could keep yourself from falling into your usual habits.

“Rule number three?” Jin waved, waiting for the answer.

Both you and Ronnie repeated at the same time, “This is not going to become a serious relationship.”

“Point to you both.”

The game continued for a while, with Jin rattling off a mixture of absurd, funny, and surprisingly thoughtful rules. Some had you rolling your eyes, others made you laugh.. There was something about the way Jin played this out—keeping you focused on the goal without letting the seriousness of it weigh you down.

In the back of your mind, you realized what he was doing. Jin was good at that, pulling you out of your overthinking spiral and making everything feel lighter. It wasn’t about figuring out all the answers now—it was just a date. All the complicated stuff? You could deal with that later. He had this way of turning every dilemma into something manageable, even fun.

Jungkook wasn’t some life-altering mystery; he was just a random guy. By the end of this, it would be nothing but a funny story. One of those "remember when" tales you'd laugh about over drinks. Difficult? Maybe. But funny? Definitely.

However much you were planning a sabotage, Jungkook was trying to plan the greatest first date ever. Except it wasn’t going quite as planned. Jungkook had not been on a real first date in years. What did people do on first dates anymore?

“Fun things to do on first dates… reddit.” Jungkook muttered to himself, typing on his phone.. Hoseok didn’t quite hear what Jungkook was muttering and looking over his shoulder to see what he was searching for.

“Don’t tell me you are consulting reddit for date ideas.” He chuckled but stopped when he realized how serious Jungkook looked. “Dude, come on. Since when do you care this much about a first date?”.

Jungkook groaned, running his hand through his hair. “I don’t remember the last time I was on a real one, Hobi. It’s been... a while. Every date I’ve been on, we both knew what it was about, well you know. No expectations.” He frowned at his phone, closing the tab in frustration. “I don’t want it to be lame.”

“If I didn’t know you better I would think you cared or something." Hoseok pinched Jungkook’s cheek with some exaggerated affection, but Jungkook pushed him away.

“Well that’s the thing. We have to be able to talk and get to know each other. Which I suck at.” To Hoseok, Jungkook actually looked to be concerned and it seemed important. Hoseok would almost believe Jungkook wanted to prove a bigger point by winning this bet against Jimin and Taehyung.

“And usually you spend your time what… not really talking?�� Hoseok thought but felt stupid for even questioning it. “Right. I forgot who I was talking too.”

Jungkook shifted uncomfortably. “Okay, okay, I get it. I don’t exactly… excel in the conversation department.”

“Excel in other things apparently.” Hoseok laughed and Jungkook rubbed his face.

“Well now I need to change my ways.” Jungkook groaned before thinking, “You know, a really good friend would help me in my time of need.”

“No.”

“Please?”

Hoseok looked straight ahead, trying to ignore the pleading. “No way. I’m not getting sucked into that ridiculous group bet you guys cooked up. I have standards, you know.” Hoseok held his ground, knowing he will fold if he saw Jungkook’s pathetic face. Jungkook was giving him that sad little pouty face anyways.

“Please Hobi. I’ll owe you big time.” Jungkook whined and shook Hoseok by the shoulders. "Plus you are great on first dates.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You always have these great date stories. You’re really good at this stuff.” Jungkook settled back and let Hoseok go.

Hoseok sighed and gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re not as hopeless as you think, you know. You’re just out of practice.”

Jungkook instantly perked up. “I knew you couldn’t resist helping me.”

“Yeah yeah whatever, but this is the last time I will help you with any of this.” Hoseok gave a warning finger to Jungkook, “I’m only doing this for this poor girl.”

“Deal.” Jungkook nodded quickly, ready to move on, but Hoseok wasn’t done.

“Be honest with me though.” Hoseok’s tone was even more serious now and Jungkook gave his full attention, “Are you going to tell this girl the truth when this is all over? It’s messed up if you’re just dating her to win the money and then dump her.”

Jungkook froze for a second. The thought hadn’t fully crossed his mind in detail before now, which, in itself, was a red flag. He had been so focused on the logistics of the bet and the potential payoff that he hadn’t considered the real impact on you. Which, Hoseok was right, made him kind of a jerk by default.

“Yeah. I’ll tell her the truth. I’ll be completely honest once it’s all over. And then… she can decide what she wants to do.” “Okay… just feels really weird. If you are only dating her for the money.” Hoseok pointed out, not fully convinced by Jungkook’s statement.

Jungkook bit his lip. Hoseok had a point, and now that it was out in the open, it ate at him. The bet really felt harmless in nature. A chance to see if Jungkook was even built for dating anymore. The money was a nice bonus, sure, and getting to date an attractive woman didn’t hurt either. But now, he was starting to see the faults in all of this.

It had been… longer than he liked to admit since he’d dated someone seriously. Even longer since he’d genuinely liked someone. He didn’t want this to turn into some shallow game where feelings got stomped on in the process.

“I promise I am going to give this a real shot. Beyond the money.” Jungkook was sure and confident in his answer. Even if he wasn’t so confident in how he was feeling about dating again.

Hoseok studied Jungkook for a moment, but found he was satisfied with the answer. “Who knows maybe this will turn out really great for you. If you take it seriously, maybe this could be something really great.”

“Okay let’s not jump too far ahead.” Jungkook nervously laughed, “Let’s get past the first date.” After all, Jungkook still had plenty of time to mess this up and it could all be for nothing.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Day 1

Leaving the train station, all the nerves you thought you didn’t have about all of this rushed through you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you made your way up unfamiliar streets. You checked in with Jungkook this morning the plan and he had sent you and address to what looked to be a café. That’s what you’d seen when you pulled it up on Maps, and yet, it felt like more than just a casual coffee date. A sense of unease tugged at you.

You had tried subtly fishing for details earlier, asking what you should wear, but he only responded vaguely with a simple dress nice. No clues. Just…nice. So, you were left to mull over your wardrobe, trying not to overthink it, but of course that did not work.

Yesterday, you had convinced yourself this would be no big deal, but now? It felt like you were walking yourself into a trap you laid yourself. Yes this was for work but you couldn’t help but feel so strange with all of it. You had to keep reminding yourself, this was all business. This is for your professional career.

It was the only thing that kept you grounded, instead of daydreaming.

When you rounded the final corner and spotted the café, your stomach did a sharp flip. There he was, Jungkook. Standing by the door, leaning ever so casually against the wall. He looked different, so different that for a second, you almost didn’t realize it was him. He wasn’t the guy you’d run into casually at the bar anymore. No, he looked polished. Adult.

He wore a pair of well-tailored black slacks that hugged his hips, and a white button-up with the sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, showing off his tattoos in a way that made your heart skip. You didn’t really see his tattoos at the bar so now you had a chance to actually see them.

Two buttons were left undone at the top, and you caught a glimpse of a silver chain against his skin. His dark hair, usually so relaxed, was flipped out at the ends, styled deliberately but effortlessly. He had on sunglasses, so you couldn’t quite read his expression.

Oh no. Oh no no no.

Because this Jungkook and the Jungkook at the bar were suddenly two completely different people. Jungkook at the bar was a guy you could easily mess with… this Jungkook… was exactly your type.

Shit.

You pull out your phone and send a frantic text.

:ABORT!

Ronnie: The date hasn’t even started!

Ronnie: YOU CAN DO THIS!

:I can’t. He cleaned up. You were right I can’t do this.

Ronnie: NO

Ronnie: REMEMBER YOUR RULES

This is not a serious relationship. You will not fall in love with Jungkook. He is a serial fuck boy.

You could hear Jin’s words clearly in your mind. So clearly in fact, but another part of your mind and heart were speaking louder. That little part of you that liked that he put some thought into how he dressed for this. He actually took careful consideration into how he should present himself for you. It made that little pink heart of yours flutter with excitement.

Snap out of it. He’s just a guy.

You shake your head, and ground yourself. You are a writer. You are doing this in the name of research and science. You can do this. This is just a date. A date.

You force one foot in front of you, going over to him, “Jungkook.” flashing your best smile, the one you hope masks the unease swirling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s eyes snap up to meet yours, and his entire face lights up with a warm, easy grin that disarms you for a moment. He pushes a hand through his hair, letting the dark strands fall effortlessly back into place.

Jungkook found himself a little disarmed as well. He had gotten a lot of tips from Hoseok the night before about how he should act and carry himself if he wanted to do this right… but he didn’t expect you to look so cute. You’re dressed in something simple—casual but still pretty. Your smile was so warm and inviting he immediately felt that desire to pull any of his usual lines, but he fought that urge.

This is not a hookup, this is a real date.

“I’ve gotta hand it to you,” Jungkook says, his tone teasing. “I thought for sure you’d ditch me.”

You force a laugh, though it’s a little shaky, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your nerves are still very much present. “Had to see for myself if you could actually step up.”

He chuckles and steps back, spreading his arms out to his sides as if presenting himself for inspection. His confidence is palpable, and it makes it worse? Better? No, definitely worse. “Told you I could take this seriously.”

And he had. Hoseok actually decided Jungkook should go for dressy but simple. Simpler the better. Means you are seeing him and not a façade. Hoseok had warned him to not carry himself too high because it could come off as arrogant. So he retreated from his normal confident stance, trying to pull his natural instinct back a bit. Why was this so hard?

“That’s for me to judge,” You say, lifting your chin and tilting your head at him playfully. “Date’s barely begun.”

“Well,” Jungkook held the café door open for you, “I thought a quick coffee and a short train ride wouldn’t hurt to start.”

“Do I get to know where we are going now?”

“Now why ruin the magic?” Jungkook's tone is a little more flirtatious now. You couldn’t help it when it makes you blush, but you try to shake it off.

The two of you grabbed your drinks to-go and quickly left the café, heading toward the train station. The conversation so far had been light—small pleasantries exchanged, but nothing too deep. It felt like you were both easing into the moment, cautiously testing the waters. Jungkook, however, was doing a surprisingly good job of keeping things moving, keeping the energy up. He seemed determined to make sure this date went well, as if he had something to prove—not just to you, but maybe even to himself.

The city blurred past the windows, concrete and steel flashing by, though your mind wasn’t really on the view. The train rumbled beneath your feet, the soft hum of people chattering fading into the background. You were acutely aware of Jungkook standing so close, his presence hard to ignore.

“So here we are,” Jungkook said with a small smirk, leaning in just enough to catch your eye.

“Here we are,” you echoed, a smile tugging at your lips.

“I know we’ve got to do the usual first-date dance,” he continued, taking a casual sip of his drink. “So feel free to ask me whatever you want.”

“Anything?” You smirked, sensing an opportunity for fun.

“Anything at all,” Jungkook replied, mirroring your playful tone. “I’m a completely open book.”

You paused for a beat, keeping the moment light. “Alright, let’s start simple. Job?”

“Engineer,” he replied confidently. “You?”

“Writer.” Your response was met with a raised brow from him.

“Very interesting,” Jungkook remarked, almost like he hadn’t expected that answer.

You tilted your head slightly. “How so?”

“I just don’t meet many writers. Journalist?”

“Correct.” You smirked, impressed with his deduction. “Okay, your turn. Hobbies?”

Jungkook's eyes brightened at the question, and he leaned in closer, his hand still gripping the pole above. “Photography.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? What kind of work do you do?”

“Street photography,” He shot you a grin, clearly pleased. He didn’t get to talk about his photography very much these days. “Mostly just day to day things. People living their lives or things that I find pretty. I like how raw it feels.”

He didn’t think he would be sharing this but Hoseok did say he should be less afraid to share the more vulnerable sides of his personality.

“That’s... actually really cool,” you admitted, genuinely impressed. It was clear this hobby wasn’t just for show. It was something he cared about. “Do you ever share your work?”

He looked down for a moment, a shy laugh escaping him. “Not really. I mean, I’ve shown a few to close friends, but it’s more for me. A way to... I don’t know, relax, I guess. Focus.”

You hadn’t realized it but you had become so laser focused on him now. You shook your head and had to remind yourself to come back to reality. Remember, he’s only saying these things to impress you; it’s not real.

Jungkook continued, “What about you?”

“Painting. It’s a new hobby so I’m really terrible.” You laugh thinking about your really sad first attempt at watercolor sitting on your dining table at home. You had tried to just do a simple flower but it definitely looks like a small creature instead.

“Anything I could see?”

“God no,” you laugh a little too loud and embarrassed, “Trust me they are terrible.” You pause for a second and think, “Okay, how about your favorite food?”

“Easy. Fried chicken.” His answer was quick, like it was non-negotiable. “Yours?”

“Pasta. Any kind, really.”

“Oh I make a really good carbonara.” He threw the comment out there seeing if you would bite.

“Is this your invitation at a second date?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“We’ll have to find out.”

You brush past his comment, “What’s the last movie you watched?”

“Interstellar.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Not bad. So you’re into space stuff?”

“Who isn’t?” Jungkook's expression softened, eyes glinting with a bit of excitement. “You?”

“10 things I hate about you.”

“Romance fan?”

“I’m a sucker for a good love story.” You shrug.

Jungkook laughed, glancing around the train as if to make sure no one else was eavesdropping on your banter. “Alright, one more from me: What’s something people don’t know about you?”

You leaned back in your seat, tapping your chin like you were really pondering it. “I’m embarrassingly bad at bowling.”

Jungkook laughed again, his grin wide and easy. “Awe so you’re saying our second date should be bowling?”

“Only if you’re okay with watching me throw gutter balls all night,” you teased.

“I’ll just have to teach you,” Jungkook quipped, his flirtation bubbling back to the surface. The playful tension between you building.

Jungkook was surprised at himself, because he was actually good at this. Keeping things light, fun, yet somehow engaging enough to make you feel at ease. The back-and-forth flowed effortlessly, and before you knew it, the train slowed for your stop.

“So how am I doing so far?” Jungkook asked, as you both hopped off the train.

You took a slow sip of your coffee, drawing out the silence to keep him in suspense. Humming, you finally raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, the coffee’s good, so points there.” you mused, “but the scenery? It left a lot to be desired.” You teased, gesturing subtly to the less-than-charming view from the train window.

“Well our next location will have a much better view I promise.” Jungkook assured.

Before long, the two of you arrived at your destination—the aquarium. To your surprise, despite the cliché of an aquarium being a typical first-date spot, there was something about it that immediately felt special. Jungkook had already secured the passes online, casually pulling them up on his phone as you neared the entrance. His relaxed demeanor seemed to contrast with your initial nerves, but seeing him here, comfortable in a place like this was calming in itself.

“I’ve never been here, actually,” you mused, taking in the murals that adorned the entrance. Sea creatures, some extinct and some from modern day stretched up toward the high ceilings. It was both beautiful and intriguing, the imagery setting the tone for what lay inside.

Jungkook followed your gaze, a small smile tugging at his lips as he leaned closer. “Well, you’re in good hands. You’re with the foremost aquarium expert in the city,” he said with a playful glint in his eyes. “I’ve been coming here since I was a kid, so I can probably tell you more about the fish than the staff can.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Oh? A fish expert, huh? I’m expecting a seriously educated tour then. I want to walk away knowing everything about aquatic life.”

Jungkook chuckled, his grin widening. “Trust me, by the time we leave, you’ll be able to name at least three species of jellyfish without googling it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “That’s quite the promise.”

Jungkook then guided you inside, the cool, dimly lit interior of the aquarium enveloped the both of you, contrasting sharply with the bright, bustling world outside. The gentle hum of water filtering through the tanks that expanded both walls of the exhibit, mixed with the occasional murmur of other visitors, created a serene atmosphere. It was pretty busy, most with other families and some teenagers running around. Jungkook led the way confidently through everyone, his playful energy still very present, but with an ease that was contagious.

Jungkook caught a glimpse of your profile as you took in the vibrant sea creatures. She looks intrigued, he thought. His heart raced a little, and he couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maybe I’m doing a good job so far.

“Alright, let’s start here,” He pointed towards the first exhibit, a massive floor-to-ceiling tank filled with vibrant schools of tropical fish darting through the corals. “Fun fact—most of these fish are native to the Indo-Pacific region.”

“Impressive,” you replied, glancing between him and the fish, already intrigued. “What else?”

Jungkook’s grin widened as he launched into an impromptu lecture about the ecosystem of coral reefs, his enthusiasm making it hard not to be drawn in. As much as you were supposed to be trying to find little annoyances for your plan, you couldn’t help but enjoy the flow of the conversation. It didn’t feel forced. Instead, it was comfortable—lighthearted, but surprisingly informative.

“Okay, okay,” you interrupted at one point, leaning slightly into him as you looked up at the jellyfish exhibit. The tank glowed softly with blue and purple lights, jellyfish gracefully floating like little underwater ghosts. “What about these? Teach me about jellyfish, Mr. Expert.”

“Ah, jellyfish,” Jungkook said dramatically, pausing like he was about to unveil a great mystery. “Jellyfish have what are called hydrostatic skeleton.”

“And what are those?” You blinked, you expression clearly saying you had no idea what that meant.

“They have no bones, they have circular muscles and they have to contract their muscles to move along the ocean.” he nodded. “There is also a species that is essentially immortal. Turritopsis dohrnii. They can reset to their juvenile form after reaching maturity, which allows them to avoid dying of old age. So, yeah, immortal jellyfish.”

You stared at him for a second, half-expecting him to say he was joking, but the serious expression on his face told you otherwise. “Okay, that’s actually super cool. You weren’t kidding about being an expert.”

As the two of you wandered through the aquarium, it surprise you how easily the conversation flowed between the both of you. Jungkook pointed out different fish, talked about their unique traits, and asked you questions too, like what your favorite animal was or whether you had any pets growing up. It didn’t feel like an interrogation, but more like a genuine curiosity, and that put you more at ease.

You reached the penguin exhibit, and Jungkook stopped in front of the glass, his eyes lighting up as a group of penguins waddled by. “Penguins are the best,” he declared, “They mate for life, you know?”

“Now that I did know. I’ve seen march of the penguins.” To be fair is was when you were extremely young and that may be the only fact you could pull from the movie.

“I used to sit here and watch the penguins for hours. I just thought they were so cool when they would slide along on their bellies.” Jungkook mused and realized he had been guiding the conversation for a while now. “Seriously stop me anytime though. I can go on and on about animal facts.”

“Don’t stop! I think it’s cute,” you said, nudging him playfully with your shoulder. The moment felt light and playful, and you liked it.

“Oh, so you think I’m cute?” Jungkook smirked, wiggling his brows. The thought sent a flutter through your chest, and you felt heat creeping up your cheeks.

“Or just a nerd.” You pull yourself away in front of the exhibit and start to press on to the next section. “Come on geek!”

It was hard to remember you were supposed to be finding ways to be annoying or difficult when things were going this smoothly. Maybe Jin and Ronnie would have to help more with that later because, right now, this was actually...fun. More fun than you had expected.

As you both continued on through the aquarium, the awkwardness that often accompanies first dates seemed to non existent. By the time you reached the final exhibit—an enormous tank filled with sharks and stingrays gliding overhead. It surrounded the entire room and there were section you could go and stand and watch fish swim above you. You and Jungkook found a nice spot to sit and to just watch. You had a found a fascination with a rather large stingray floating around the tank.

“I’m in heavy anticipation for your shark facts.” You kick your feet back and forth and glance to your side at Jungkook who was enraptured with the tank.

“Maybe not a fun fact, but hammerheads will trap sting rays with their heads to the seafloor to catch and eat them.”

“Huh,” he was correct not so fun but still interesting, “I always wondered what their heads we good for.”

Jungkook hummed, a smile on his face. He had started the day nervous but he felt so comfortable now. The aquarium was actually Hoseok's idea, told Jungkook he should go somewhere where he could be at ease and maybe show off a bit. Now showing off fish facts may have been unconventional, it was working here. You seemed to be really enjoying yourself, and laughing at most of his little jokes.

In that moment of silence, as he observed a sleek shark swim by, he glanced over at you, his voice softening. “So, how am I doing so far? Honestly.”

You looked at him, taking a beat before answering. “Well, I’ll admit I didn’t expect you to actually be this...interesting.” You teased, keeping it light. “But you’ve definitely surprised me.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his expression. “Surprised you in a good way, I hope?”

It was good, but horribly horribly bad. Because you weren’t sure if you could go through with this, Jungkook was nice and goofy. He took you somewhere he clearly really enjoyed and spent his day trying to make you laugh and smile. It was one of the best first dates you had been on in a long time. Maybe Jin had the completely wrong idea about Jungkook? Maybe this was all a mistake? Maybe you could find something real with Jungkook.

You would have to find a different guy for your experiment, not ideal but you admittedly were already having a small crush on Jungkook. A small voice in the back of your mind was screaming, I told you so. I knew you couldn’t do this. You are too much of a gooey romantic to pull this off.

“Good so far.” You smile, and turn your body to face him, “Okay, ask me anything you want. My turn to be an open book.”

“Oh really?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow but also adjusted to face you. “Okay. What made you become a writer?”

“Oh, good question.” You thought for a moment, “I used to be a mini reporter when I was younger. I used to dress up like an old 40’s style detective or journalist and I would write news stories about things happening in my neighborhood.”

“Did you pick up anything juicy?”

You shook your head, laughing at the memory. “Not at all. It was usually just anything I saw happen. Like breaking news: Ryan fell off his bike, or Mrs. Johnson bought apples and milk from the store. It was never anything groundbreaking, but I loved it.” Excitement seeped into your tone. “As I got older, I realized I liked reporting and journalism of any kind, even trashy magazine writing. I just wanted to be one of them. Have my name on something like that.”

Jungkook listened intently, fascinated. He found himself wrapped up in how animated and alive you looked talking about your passion. He admired the way your hands danced through the air as you spoke, and for a brief moment, he allowed himself to picture you living out your dreams, pen in hand, telling the stories of the world.

“So what are you writing now?” Jungkook wanted to hear more, hear more about what made you excited.

You paused, because even though Jungkook didn’t know, that was a heavy question. “The promotion I mentioned the other night? I’m getting promoted from research to an actual writer for the magazine I’m at.”

Jungkook eyebrows shot up, “That’s incredible.”

“I know. It’s a huge deal and the piece I’m working on is… well.” You chewed on your lip, “It’s a research heavy piece and requires me to go out and do some actual field work.”

“I want to read it when it’s done.” Jungkook had a genuine smile on his face and he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since you started. You had just now noticed and all of those first date nerves came bubbling up in you.

“Oh, no.” You let out a breathy laugh, “It’ll be just a silly little think piece when it’s done.”

“So?” Jungkook tilted his head trying to meet your eyes, “I want to be your first reader when it’s published. Then I can walk around and brag about it.”

You nervously laugh to yourself, “I’ll make sure you get the first copy.”

Even though inside you were thinking, absolutely no way in hell is that happening.

“Perfect,” he said, nodding eagerly. “I’ll hold you to that.”

The two of you settled back into a comfortable silence, your gaze drifting back to the mesmerizing display of fish swimming above. You couldn’t help but feel lighter.

“So what do you think your ultimate goal as a writer is?” It surprised you little when he continued, you didn’t think he would want to know more about it.

“I think…” You said for a moment, watching a school of fish go by in the glass. “I want to be a funny writer but also someone who makes you think. I want my work to feel real but also force you to really examine yourself.”

“Well when you get famous and stuff,” Jungkook stood from his seat, “I get to say I knew you.” He extended a hand out to you. He hadn’t offered his hand the entire date, but he felt like now was appropriate.

You stared at it for a moment, he's just helping you up that's all, then you slipped your hand into his and stood with him. So to your own surprise, he didn’t let you go. Jungkook lacing his fingers into yours, and it made your heart race in your chest. Goosebumps rising on your skin.

“Now we still have plenty of other things left to see.” With a swift movement Jungkook began to pull you along into the rest of the aquarium.

You both bounced around exhibits you had already seen and joked around a lot along the way. Jungkook also had plenty of more fish facts to throw out when you would encounter something you may have missed before. After a while the both of you managed to make it back to the front of the aquarium and found the gift shop.

“Oh these are cute.” You pull up a pair of tiny penguins that had magnets in the fins that held them together. “I think you can split them up so you can give one to someone.”

“That’s really cute.” Jungkook really wasn’t looking at anything, he was having more fun watching you look around at the items. Everything a bit too overpriced.

You had a thought in mind, and took the penguins up to the counter. After the cashier rung you up and you took the penguins out of their package and gave one to Jungkook. He looked confused.

“One for you.” you smiled, “For such a nice first date.”

“They mate for life, you can’t split them up.” Jungkook fake pointed and you rolled your eyes, you eyes the pocket on the front of his button up and tucked the penguin into his pocket. It fit perfectly so the head was sticking out.

You giggle a little at it and Jungkook smiles at your amusement, you then stick the other penguin to the shirt to see if the magnets would still stick and to your surprise they do indeed stick together. Jungkook also laughs at the gesture and then hands the other penguin back to you.

As Jungkook handed you the second penguin, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of warmth at his playful smile. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, an inside joke that was unique to this moment. You turned the penguin over in your hands, admiring the tiny details.

“These little guys can be a reminder of our first adventure together,” you said, glancing up at him. “Every time I see mine, I’ll think of you and all your random fish facts.”

“I knew all of this aquatic knowledge would come in handy some day.”

The both of you made your way out to the entrance of the aquarium. You weren’t even really sure what time it was but the sun was starting to set and it was raining outside to both of your surprise. You and Jungkook had been so wrapped up in the day you hadn't even thought to even check your phones or check the weather for the day. Jungkook hadn’t either, he really hadn’t expected to enjoy himself this much but here he was. He really didn’t want the date to end.

“We might have to make a run for the subway.” Jungkook glanced out the windows, it was really coming down hard now.

“I’m so going to get sick.” You laugh, but with some confidence and you push the exit door open, stepping into the rain and looking back waiting for Jungkook to follow. The rain hitting you and icy cold hug it made you gasp.

Jungkook laughed too, the sound brightening the dreary weather. Without a second thought, he dashed out into the rain after you, grabbing your hand as you both braved the elements. The rain was relentless, and you quickly found yourselves sprinting up the street toward the nearest subway station.

The air was crisp, and the rain felt like little stinging needles against your skin. “Definitely an unexpected twist for a first date.” You called to him, the sound of the rain was deafening.

“What do you mean? Running in the rain? It’s a totally rom com cliché.” Jungkook calling back to your love for romance movies.

The both of you kept moving but began to shiver a bit. The only heat between the both of you coming from your hands wrapped in each other.

The both of you could see the station just up ahead. The both of you trying to keep a quick pace so you could get in and catch the train. You and Jungkook and you spotting a puddle you both try to gracefully jump over, but the slickness of the ground betraying Jungkook. He slips a little and almost takes you with him. laughter spilled from your lips, mixing with the sound of rain splashing against the pavement. It was pure chaos, but it felt exhilarating. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at you, and for a moment, all the worries of the world faded away.

“An interesting way to close out the date.” You try wiping away some water from your face but it was useless at this point. “My outfit is definitely ruined.”

“I don’t know, I think the wet look is in.” his hair was sticking to the side of his face an forehead, he was clearly shivering but was still managing to have a boyish grin on his face. As you both reached the subway entrance, you paused, leaning against the wall, your laughter dying down into soft giggles. The rain still poured down around you, but it felt different now—intimate, almost magical. Jungkook’s eyes were bright, his expression softening as he looked at you.

For a moment, everything else faded away. The world around you blurred, and it felt like it was just the two of you in that cocoon of raindrops and laughter. Despite the biting chill of the rain soaking through your clothes, a warmth blossomed within you, igniting a spark that felt impossibly bright. Your heart pounded in your ears, drowning out everything else.

Jungkook stepped closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. You felt your own gaze drawn to his, mesmerized by the way his pink lips glistened in the dim light, kissed by the rain. He looked so cute, his expression a mix of surprise and delight. Before you could think about it, you closed the distance and pressed your lips to his.

Initially, Jungkook seemed taken aback, but the moment was electric, and he quickly melted into the kiss. What had started as a tentative peck transformed into something more quickly. He responded with surprising warmth, his hand gently cradling your cheek as he kissed you again, pulling you closer as if he wanted to shield you from the cold.

That kiss was sweet and tender, a balm against the rain. The warmth spread through you, wrapping around your heart like a cozy blanket.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, your cheeks flushed from both the cold and the moment. Jungkook’s eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and happiness, a wide grin breaking across his face.

“I’m pretty sure kissing in the rain is the biggest cliché of them all.” Jungkook broke the tension in the air and is made you roll your eyes, you taking his hand again and pulling him into the station.

You both managed to make it to your train in time. You weren’t sure if Jungkook also lived this direction but he was coming with you nonetheless. The two of you were leaving puddles behind the both of you everywhere you went.

When you got off at the right station you realized how hungry you actually were now. Starving in fact, you and Jungkook had so wrapped up in the aquarium food was the last thing on your mind, “Are you hungry?”

“Really hungry actually.” Jungkook was now realizing he was beginning to fade away with the lack of food.

“You want to get something to eat?”

The two of you found the closest place you could find to eat nearby and there was a crowded restaurant. The two of you managed to get a table really easily and settled it. You both got a series of weird looks at the state the two of you were in, but the two of you didn’t really care.

As you excused yourself to the bathroom, your heart was still racing from the high of the day. You needed a moment away from the intensity, a breath of space to gather your thoughts. The date had been so easy, so natural. Nothing like what you’d imagined when you first got involved in this whole thing. But you couldn’t let yourself get lost in the fantasy.

Once inside the bathroom, you didn’t even bother to check the mirror. You pulled out your phone, pacing frantically as you called Ronnie and Jin, knowing they’d be waiting for an update.

“Guys,” you blurted out, your voice low but panicked, “I can’t go through with this. I swear he’s just… a regular guy. This isn’t what we thought!”

There was a pause before Jin’s voice came through loud and clear. “Bad writer!” he scolded you. “Do not waver now. He’s playing you, just like we suspected.”

“I’m telling you, Jin, it feels real. The way he’s acting… he’s not some player. This all feels too genuine.” You caught your reflection in the mirror and grimaced, frustrated with yourself for even saying it out loud.

Ronnie chimed in, clearly less invested in your emotional rollercoaster, but supportive nonetheless. “Sounds too good to be true if you ask me. Stay strong, Y/N. This guy’s probably a master at making things feel real. That’s what they do. You’ve got this.”

You sighed, adjusting your hair with your free hand as you continued pacing. “You guys aren’t here with me! You didn’t see him today—he’s been amazing. It’s not like other dates where it’s all surface-level stuff. We were wrong.”

“I’m never wrong,” Jin insisted with that trademark smugness of his. “Trust me, his true colors will show soon. Stick to the plan.”

With some more arguments. They forced you to not give up and continue, Jin convinced he is still correct about Jungkook.

He didn’t see him today though.

You rejoined Jungkook back at your booth and you were sitting right next to each other. Jungkook was typing on his phone, which managed to survive the downpour. You were also surprised that your phone somehow managed to survive it. Right not though, Jin and Ronnie were completely blowing it up with messages following your call.

“What is it?” Jungkook’s curiosity getting the better of him, glancing to your phone briefly but then looking away.

You shake your head, “Nothing my friends were just worried about me because I wasn’t responding. They thought you might have murdered me or something.” A lie but it would disarm his curiosity.

“How do they know you haven’t killed me?” Jungkook joked, and you smiled.

You shrug and set you phone down on the table. “Nights still young. That could very well happen.”

“Fun.” Jungkook laughed at your obvious sarcasm. “I’ll be right back.”

Jungkook placed his phone down next to yours and excused himself away. Probably to go to the bathroom. You felt a warm glow in your chest just from the day. Everything was so nice and so fun, and easy. Jungkook was not what you were expecting, he probably wasn’t what your friends thought either.

It would be just your luck to accidentally pick a really great guy.

Or so you hoped.

At that moment a buzz came from the table and you thought it came from your phone since Jin and Ronnie were blowing up your phone with reminders to stick to the plan. You glanced down and in an instant you wish you hadn’t. You really wished you hadn’t. Because the text did not come from your phone, it came from Jungkook's phone.

It wasn’t a text from just a friend either.

You looked away as fast as you saw it but it immediately brought you back to reality.

Hey baby, are you free tonight? I really want to do that thing again…

You really wished you hadn’t looked. You didn’t even register the name because you flipped Jungkook's phone over. For a moment, everything inside you froze. It felt like someone had just yanked you out of a dream, dropping you back into reality with a crash. The words, the suggestive tone—it wasn’t just a friendly text. This was someone else, someone calling him “baby,” someone who clearly thought they had plans with him tonight.

Because this is who he was, and why you set all those rules.

Of course Jungkook was texting another girl. Because that is the guy he is. He could be dreamy all day long but this was his nature. Not whatever façade he put on for your benefit today. For a second, your mind spun with questions: Who was she? What did they do? But no matter how many answers you wanted, one fact remained: this perfect day wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.

Your waitress brought over the drinks you two had ordered. You sipped it so you could give your hands something to do. The disappointment swirled in your stomach for a moment before you pulled yourself together.

You were here for your own reasons.

That texted just proved why you picked Jungkook in the first place. He is a playboy, and you had a goal. Day one, twenty-nine more to go.

You spotted Jungkook returning to the table and he had a big smile on his face. You put back on a big smile yourself. Acting as if nothing had changed and nothing was different. You took a quick moment to send a quick text to Ronnie and Jin.

:Nevermind. You guys were right. I can do this.

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jeanboyjean · 9 months ago

Text

RIDE WITH ME ft. shinichiro sano. nsfw.

You go to a bar to meet up with one of your dating app prospects but he stands you up. You’re drinking your sorrows away when the guy next to you catches your eye.

a/n: im so down bad u guys i just had to write something for him bc i NEED CONTENT. i truly believe he would worship the ground u walk on yes he would. i experimented a little with my writing style bc i felt like it fit better but lemme know what u think. it's my first time posting here for someone that's not jean so pls be nice <3

cw: fem! reader. mdni. nothing crazy just good old porn with a little plot! oral (f! receiving), protected sex. love at first sight coded.

6.9k words

tag: @arlerts-angel @milky-aeons @livefromnc @kokonoiscoconut

song: for your love - måneskin

Your throat burned as you knocked back yet another shot, willing the alcohol to soothe the ache you felt in your chest. It was almost twenty minutes past the time you and your date had agreed to meet... but he was nowhere to be seen. Disappointment flooded your mind as you sat at the bar alone, your feet throbbing in the strappy heels you were wearing and your skin itching from the tight dress you had squeezed into just for tonight. All for some sucker who hadn’t bothered to show.

Of course he hadn’t shown.

The weariness of dating was starting to get to you - constant swiping, talking to someone new every week and getting your hopes up, only to have them crushed again when it turned out to be another dud. What was the point in trying anymore, when time after time you were endlessly disappointed. Honestly, you should have known better than to get your hopes up but the hopeless romantic in you longed for the companionship you had always dreamed about. How much longer would you have to do this dance before you found someone who would appreciate everything you had to give?

You looked down at your phone again with a huff, checking one last time for an update. To your surprise there was an unopened notification waiting for you.

Hey, sorry I can’t make it anymore. Can we reschedule?

You snorted in irritation, reading over the text again. Your vision flashed red with anger as you stared down at your screen with gritted teeth. Reschedule? Yeah, as if. If this loser wasn’t going to give you the benefit of letting you know before the time of your date then there was a fat chance you would give him another go.

With a heavy heart, you sighed and slumped against the counter, waving at the bartender to signal for another drink when you caught his eye. As he took away your glass, you unlocked your phone again and opened a text chain with your friends thinking you might as well make the most of the night since you were all dressed up. Maybe they would be willing to come out and join you now that you were here and dateless with nothing else to do.

While you sat there at the bar, on the opposite side of the room, Shinichiro made his entrance into the establishment. He casually scanned his surroundings as he pushed open the door, a small bell jingling as it closed behind him. Groups of patrons gathered at the scattered tables and a lively hum of voices rose over the low music. As always, he set his sight towards the bar and he stopped in his tracks when his eyes caught on you.

Shinichiro frequented this bar regularly, often stopping by after work when he needed some time to cool down. It was the case tonight and he had been looking forward to getting a drink alone with his thoughts after a long day working on a new bike ... or at least, he had been planning to drink alone. Talking to a girl hadn’t been on the agenda at all, but from the moment he saw you at the bar, perched up on your stool, all of his thoughts went out the window. In an instant, he was captured by your pretty frame, the way your brows drew together as you frowned down at your phone and he studied your image, wondering what you would look like if he could put a smile on your face.

WIth a newfound sense of purpose, he approached the bar swiftly and deliberately, only stopping when he was at a comfortable distance next to you. His heart raced as he contemplated his next move and he lifted a hand to wave at the bartender. Now that he was in your vicinity, the heady scent of your perfume trailed towards him, sweet and inviting.

His proximity created a slight shift in the atmosphere around you and your skin prickled and your body tensed on instinct as you became aware of his presence.

“Hey,” you heard his deep voice say. “Whiskey, neat. Thanks.”

You looked up. You saw the tall man, leaning against the counter with the sleeves of his jacket rolled up past his forearms. Dark hair fell over his face as he spoke to the bartender, his eyes scanning the lines of bottles on the shelves in front of him. From the side, you couldn’t see the details of his face but he cut a nice figure as he towered next to you.

As if sensing your gaze, Shinichiro glanced over at you and your eyes locked for a moment before you quickly looked away shyly, a heat warming your cheeks. A breath caught in your throat and your mouth ran dry as your mind took quick notice of his appearance. Yikes… he’s good looking.

You busied yourself with looking anywhere but at him, your eyes flitting around you in a hurry, your hands flying to your chest to fiddle with the top of your dress. Luckily, you were saved from your flustering by the bartender placing a fresh shot glass in front of you at just the right moment and you reached toward it gratefully, offering him a sheepish smile.

Shinichiro followed your movements closely with a steady gaze. For some reason he couldn’t explain and before he could register what he was doing, his hand was flying out to stop you before you could take the drink, his arm moving instinctively without him prompting it to.

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes wide with surprise. His expression was carefully blank, but something bright flickered behind the dark pools of his eyes. You narrowed your own back at him, a scowl twisting your lips.

“Let me buy you a real drink,” Shinichiro began. The words tumbled out of him, clumsy and not as smooth as he hoped. He winced inwardly. What was he saying?

You continued to glare at him only adding to the nerves he felt as he attempted a cool smirk, hoping he appeared more collected than he felt. He accepted the glass being offered to him by the bartender, grateful for the small distraction and the amber liquid swirled as he brought it toward him. His other hand remained outstretched in front of you to block your movement as he held your gaze.

Unimpressed, you huffed out a laugh as you gave him a proper once over. You were no stranger to cheesy one liners and guys trying to pick you up when you went out. His appearance was simple - dark jacket over a white t-shirt that was stained with spots of dark ink and light wash jeans. The dim lighting of the bar casted shadows across the planes of his face and his dark eyes gleamed at you. He wasn’t exactly striking, but he was handsome in a way that tugged at your chest and interest stirred in you, your body ever the traitor.

“Does that normally work for you?” You asked coolly, your eyebrows raised in a disbelieving look.

Although you had tried to play it off, your survey of him hadn’t gone unnoticed by him and he smirked around his glass as he took a sip of his drink. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Mmhmm.” In a swift motion, you swept your glass around his hand and lifted it to your lips, downing the liquid. You welcomed the burn, letting it warm the ice in your heart.

He chuckled and took a seat on the stool next to you. Of course you wouldn’t be so easy. It was a good thing he always liked a challenge - if there was one thing he excelled at, it was going for what he wanted and never backing down.

You ignored his presence, turning away from him and scrolling on your phone again. Unluckily for you, all of your friends had replied to you with their apologies, already busy with their own plans. You sighed, resigning yourself to the fact that you would have to admit defeat and head home for the night empty handed.

Shinichiro shifted in his seat next to you, clearing his throat lightly. His fingers tapped on the counter less than a foot from where your elbows pressed into the smooth surface. You peered in your peripheral vision at him and watched as his finger traced around the ring of condensation left on the surface by his glass. He nursed his drink slowly and stared blankly into the distance with an expression that was hard to read. Laughter swirled around you as the two of you sat solemnly, lost in your own thoughts.

“Long day?” You asked finally to break the silence. Curiosity would always get the better of you.

Shinichiro’s head snapped toward you in surprise. While you had been mourning your lack of social life, he had been trying to think of what he could say next to get your attention. The last thing he had predicted was that you would initiate the conversation yourself.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he replied. “You look like you’ve had better though.”

You shrugged and tried to keep your expression in check. A short laugh huffed out of you in an attempt to mask your bitter words. “Yeah. I was supposed to be on a date. He stood me up though.”

“Someone stood you up? Why would they ever do that?”

“I don’t know. Whatever. It doesn’t matter.”

He cocked his head to the side, appraising you up and down carefully. His eyes lingered on your bare thighs and your chest and his body subconsciously responded to the sight, his heart skipping a beat or two and his dick twitching in his pants. You were pretty, beautiful even, and he was only a man.

“I would never leave you hanging. A girl like you? He must have been a schlub.”

You narrowed your eyes at him again, studying his face. “Does that one work for you too?”

A carefree laugh bubbled out of him as he shook his head, his hair falling to frame his face. “Not really. Not a lot works for me usually, to be honest.”

His candour surprised you. His dark eyes bore into yours, earnest and a little shameless. He didn’t appear to care much about the way he came off to you and it made you want to lower your guards just a little.

“I’m Shinichiro,” he said, holding out his hand. His fingers were dirty, discoloured by the same dark smudges that painted his clothes. He noticed you staring and pulled back his hand, wiping it against his shirt. “Sorry, I just finished work. I promise I washed my hands, it’s just this stuff is hard to get off.” A flush graced his cheeks as his eyes darted to your face and away in embarrassment. “I own a motor shop and I’ve been fixing up a bike all day.”

“Oh,” you hummed. You introduced yourself, telling him your name as you held out your hand. You were no stranger to getting your hands dirty yourself and you were polite, if nothing else. His eyes softened and after a slight pause he leaned forward to take it, squeezing it hard. Calluses lined his palms and your skin tingled from the roughness as you shook his hand.

“So, Shinichiro… I told you my story. You tell me yours. What brings you here on this fine night?”

He grinned at you, taking a sip of his drink. “Well, like I said. I just got off work. I come here to wind down sometimes, get a drink.”

“On your own?”

“My friends can get a bit rowdy. Sometimes I enjoy the peace and quiet of being alone.”

You shifted in your seat, uncrossing then recrossing your legs. Your fingers played with the hem of your dress and pulled it down when it rode up your thigh as you changed positions. It was hard to miss the way his breath hitched and his eyes flickered as he followed your movements. “Do you want me to leave you alone then?”

Shinichiro shook his head, breaking out of his trance. “No, I think you’re cool. I want to get to know you more.”

You laughed, the sound bubbling out of you and into his heart. “If I didn’t know any better I would think you’re hitting on me.”

“Is it working?” His eyes twinkled with humour. He couldn’t help but feel hopeful and he tried to ignore the excitement building inside him, twisting his stomach with nerves.

“Maybe… You’ll have to wait and see.”

He gestured toward your empty shot glass. “Do you want another?”

You considered it for a moment, letting yourself indulge in the possibility before you shook your head regretfully, heaving out a sigh. As nice as it was to talk to him, the disappointment of your date being a no show had already ruined your night. Had you been in a better mood, you would have loved to continue flirting with him.

“No, I think I’ll go home. I might as well get changed into something comfortable and drown my sorrows in my own bed.”

His heart sank a little at your words, disappointment creeping in. He had only just got here and you were already ready to go, right when he felt like he was getting somewhere. Unwilling to let you go too easily, he tried his hand at another play. “How are you getting home?”

“I was going to call an uber.”

“Don’t waste your money. Let me take you home. My bike is parked out front, you can sit on the back.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Haven’t you been drinking? It’s fine, don’t worry about me.”

“I’ve only had one,” he tried to reassure you, gesturing to his glass. “I’m fine, it takes more than a couple drinks for me to feel anything. I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t feel up for it.”

Maybe it was because you were a little tipsy but part of you wanted to say yes. He offered a hesitant smile as he looked down at you with an earnest expression and his invitation tempted you just a little. Thankfully to your benefit though, you had enough presence of mind to know better. He was just a stranger after all. A cute one, but a stranger nonetheless.

“I’m okay. Thanks for the offer, I appreciate it.”

Shinichiro nodded, accepting your refusal with a heavy heart. It made sense; he couldn’t blame you really. If you were Emma, he would have expected her to do the same thing. Still, it didn’t make it sting any less as he nodded, lifting his glass toward you in acknowledgement as you gathered your things and turned to leave.

Unable to contain himself, he chanced another look at you as you walked away. His eyes tracked the way you slinked away on your heels, your hips swaying with every step. As you opened the door and stepped outside, he turned back to the bar and heaved out a sigh.

The bartender caught his eye with raised eyebrows and Shinichiro reluctantly pushed his glass forward to accept another drink. An uneasy feeling crept over him as he sat there, trying to process his encounter with you and dread flooded to form a pit in his stomach and his heart sank impossibly further when he realised he had made a dire mistake.

Idiot. He had forgotten to ask you for your number.

***

It had been two weeks since Shinichiro had met you. Two weeks, since he had last seen you.

He had tried not to think about it too much. He knew it was silly of him to get so bothered by it. You were just a stranger really, you had barely shared more than a few minutes together... but there was just something about you that he couldn’t forget. Everyday, when he had a spare moment, he would flashback to his conversation with you and regret every decision he had ever made. He had kicked himself enough over the past few days for not getting your number or not insisting to buy you another drink.

When he walked into the bar again on another Friday night, he wasn’t expecting to see you there at the counter. And yet there you were, in another short dress, the hem riding up your thighs, perched up on your stool. His brain short circuited slightly as he looked you up and down, his breath catching in his throat. As if in a trance, he began moving toward you like a moth would to a flame, weaving his way past tables until the bar came into full view.

All of a sudden he was stuttering to a stop in his tracks. Blood roared in his ears and his vision tunnelled as he took in the reality of the situation in front of him. You were here, yes, but not alone this time, instead clearly talking with a man next to you. Shinichiro watched with dread in his heart as you tipped your head back at something your companion said, your shoulders shaking with laughter as the man smiled smugly, his eyes raking over your body. Jealousy coursed through his veins at the sight. What could possibly be so funny?

Shinichiro approached the bar slowly. His legs felt heavy with lead as the distance between the two of you lessened little by little. Part of him wanted to leave immediately, but another just wanted to see if you would acknowledge him if he stood within your reach. Would you even remember him?

When he finally finished crossing the floor, he leaned against the counter behind you with his eyes fixed in front of him. He didn’t dare to spare you a glance.

Your body was stiff with irritation as you sat there on your stool. Your face ached from holding the smile on your face as laughter came out of you in forced bursts. To your right, your date sat facing you with a broad smile, completely oblivious to the discomfort you felt. You were decidedly not having a good time.

Despite your recent disappointment, you had tried to bounce back and had come out tonight on yet another date with yet another guy. Alas, it was to no avail. Although it had only been half an hour, you already knew it was going nowhere - there was no chemistry, his photos were definitely outdated and honestly the way he was looking at you gave you the creeps. Great, another dud. All throughout the date, your thoughts had kept drifting back to the last time you had been here and Shinichiro’s face flashed in your mind. If only your date had been someone like him.

As you shifted in your seat to reach for your drink, you became aware of a person standing to your side. You turned to look over your shoulder and gasped as surprise overcame you when you saw who it was. The man was busy looking down at something on his phone and hadn't seemed to have noticed you next to him but you recognised the handsome face instantly. Speak of the devil, you thought to yourself. Without a second to waste, you pounced on the opportunity to ditch your date.

“Shinichiro!”

For Shinichiro, the sound of his name coming from your voice was completely unexpected. He jolted in shock as he turned toward you with wide eyes. You were grinning broadly at him, your eyes sparkling in delight and warmth filled his body as a natural response. He was an honest man. He couldn't deny that the sight of your face did numbers on his heart.

“Oh, hey!” He said, trying to recover, a smile playing on his lips. "Fancy seeing you here!" He glanced curiously over at the stranger next to you who in turn scowled back at him.

“Shinichiro’s a good friend,” you said enthusiastically as you turned back to your date. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Is it okay if he joins us?”

Your date frowned, his face twisting in distaste. If you had any feelings toward him you would have felt bad for the clear confusion you were causing him. “You want him to join our date?”

“Yeah. We’re just hanging out anyway.”

He scoffed. “Hanging out? Are you serious? I didn’t come all this way and buy you a drink just to hang out.”

Despite it probably being warranted, his attitude was not appreciated. You glared at the man, your eyes cold enough to turn him to ice. “Well, I want to talk to him. If you don’t like it you can leave.”

“Is this for real?” The man looked at Shinichiro who shrugged, unable to contain the cheshire cat grin that stretched his lips.

Your date huffed, grumbling to himself as his eyes flicked back and forth between you and Shinichiro. His cheeks reddened with frustration and his lips quivered in anger as he stood in a hurry and gathered his things. “You know what? Fuck this,” he snapped. “I’m gonna go. What a waste of time”

You lifted your hand in a wave, smiling sweetly, his reaction not bothering you in the slightest. “Bye!” You called after him as he stomped away.

Shinichiro waited for the man to leave, before taking his place next to you. Your eyes locked in a shared moment as you processed the turn of events and in an instant the two of you were bursting into laughter, your shoulders shaking as giggles tumbled out of you.

“I was trying to find an excuse to get rid of him,” you sputtered, trying to contain your laughter. “Seems the universe sent you to me at just the right time.”

Shinichiro admired the way your face lit up in unabashed joy, the corners of your eyes crinkling as your mouth stretched wide in the prettiest smile he had ever seen. “The universe does work in interesting ways,” he snickered in response. For example, he thought to himself, the fact that he had been hoping to see you again and here you were in front of him, the second chance he had been praying for.

You continued to smile up at him sweetly, looking up through your eyelashes as humour danced behind your eyes. Truthfully, you had been hoping to see him here too.

“So, are you going to buy me a drink, Shinichiro?”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you going to let me?”

You crossed your arms in front of you. He tried not to pay attention to the way it brought his focus to your chest. You nodded toward your empty glass, a clear message in your gaze, and he leaned over the counter, waving at the bartender to get his attention. He pointed to your glass.

“Can I get another one of whatever she had … and a beer for me, please.”

You hummed in thought, cocking your head to the side. “Just a beer today? I remember you had something a bit stronger last time.”

He grinned, pleased to know you had been paying attention.

“I want to make sure I’m sober enough to take you home tonight.”

He held his breath as he watched your reaction. You blinked at him in surprise, although there was no reason you should have been. He was sure he had been clear enough in his intentions the last time you had met. A flush warmed your cheeks as you tried to keep your composure but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Shinichiro grinned in satisfaction. Gotcha.

Time passed quickly as the two of you conversed. The banter came easily, laughter flowing freely. You were funny, he realised, more than he thought … and beautiful, exactly his type. Multiple times throughout the night, he'd had to pause to remind himself to keep it together, lest he fall too hard too fast. You had only really just met and it was proving difficult to reign it in when you were hitting it off so smoothly like this.

An hour later, you were still nursing the drink he had bought you, twisting it around in your hands as you smiled warmly at him. A small part of him hoped it was because you wanted to prolong the conversation for as long as possible. He would buy you another this time, if it meant you would stay to talk to him. The grip you had wrapped around his heart tightened as you gazed up at him through your eyelashes, your eyes twinkling in the low light.

“So when are you going to take me home, Shinichiro?”

Your sweet voice tugged at his chest, your words catching him off guard. Your hand fell down to rest on his forearm and squeezed tight. Your playful look told him a clear message, and he received it wholeheartedly, instantly becoming putty in your hands.

“How about now?” He offered, holding out his hand.

You giggled in response as you took it, clutching it tight.

***

The ride to your place went by in a blur. His head was a mess as his bike rumbled beneath him, the engine roaring as he zipped down the road with you sitting behind him. All of his thoughts were consumed by the feeling of you pressed up against his back, your arms wound around his waist, gripping tight on his shirt as your bare thighs enveloped him. All of his energy was focused on staring straight ahead, ignoring the blood pumping in his veins to gather down between his legs.

It was a relief when he finally pulled onto your street. You helpfully tapped his shoulder and extended an arm to point in front of him at your house and he swiftly parked his bike before helping you off with an outstretched hand. He carefully lifted the helmet that he normally used for himself gently off your head.

“How was that for your first ride?” He asked, shaking out his shoulders and breathing in the night air.

“Good!” You nodded enthusiastically and he chuckled, smoothing down the top of your hair.

A wide grin stretched on your face as you blinked at him. Your cheeks flushed with excitement and your eyes sparkled with newfound energy. He couldn’t help but admire the way it lit up your face in a pretty glow and his hand fell down your hair to twist the ends around his finger. The night was quiet but electricity sparked between the two of you as you stood there in front of your door.

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked the question he had been waiting for, your hands coming up to grip the front of his shirt.

“I- I shouldn’t. We only just met.”

“So? Isn't this why you chatted me up? Why you bought me a drink? Why you took me home?”

“You’re drunk, more than me. I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Oh, you’re so honourable,” you said with a voice all saccharine. “It’s okay, I’m more sober than you think. I’m offering now, Shinichiro. Take it or leave it.”

His eyes locked onto yours and he nodded. Okay, was all he said before you were pulling him into your house and closing the door behind you.

In a quick motion, he had you pushed up against the door, pressing you back against it. His hands cupped your cheeks as your mouths met in a passionate kiss. Your lips were soft against his and time stopped as you moved together in a messy dance of give and take. Everything in his body honed in on the feeling of you, your mouth, your skin, and he deepened the kiss, desperate for more. Blood roared in his ears and his heart raced wildly, his body moving completely by instinct. A low moan slipped out of you when his tongue slid over yours and the sound landed straight between his legs where his dick was growing harder by the second.

“Where’s your bedroom?”

His voice was low and rough with arousal. You swallowed thickly, eyes half lidded as you blinked up at him. As if in a daze, you grabbed his hand and pulled him along as you hurried toward your open bedroom door.

Once there, he pushed you down on your bed so you were lying on your back and climbed over you, caging you between his forearms. He towered over you as he bared his weight into them on either side of your head and his legs trapped you underneath him so you had nowhere to go. Silky dark hair fell down over his eyes as he dipped his head to capture your mouth again in an eager kiss, his soft lips moving fervently against your own.

Your legs wrapped around his hips and you squeezed tight, lifting your hips as you brought his bulging crotch close toward you. The stiff fabric of his jeans brushed against your aching body, your thin underwear already damp with your arousal, and you mewled, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sparks of pleasure it gave you. He groaned into your mouth in return, his hips jerking into you, craving more friction.

His mouth travelled down your body, sucking the soft skin behind your ear, noting the way your body responded to his touch. Your back arched when he trailed down your neck, lapping at your skin and there was a sharp intake of breath as he nipped lightly with his teeth. The fact that you were still wearing clothes grated on his nerves and he tugged at the hem of your dress in annoyance.

“Off,” he grunted out through gritted teeth.

Your pupils dilated and your chest heaved as you did what he said. With shaking fingers, you reached behind you to unzip your dress and pulled it hastily down past your shoulders. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra tonight and your upper body was now exposed to him in all its glory.

His breath caught in his throat as he stared down at you, watching the way your chest rose and fell with your breathing. A hand came down to cup a breast and he revelled in the way you moaned his name as he rolled a hard nipple with his fingers. Not one to waste any time, he swooped down to latch onto the other with his mouth, licking at the stiff bud with his tongue and sucking into your soft skin.

You moaned above him, keening as you lifted your hips up flush against his. Your hands gripped his shoulders, fingertips lightly clawing into his skin.

“Shin, please,” you breathed out. “I want you to touch me.”

His eyes snapped up to your face, dark with lust. He released your tits as he rose back up to capture your mouth in another kiss. His hips rolled into yours, deliberate this time, and you arched into him, desperate and needy.

“You want me to touch you, pretty girl?” His hips rocked again, grinding against your aching pussy. “I’m touching you already, aren’t I?”

You mewled under him, bucking into him to chase the sensation. Desire coursed through your veins as you blinked up at him through your haze. You were beginning to lose your grip on reality; everything in your body screamed at you with the need for more.

His eyes widened when he saw your hand slide down your legs in an attempt to try and relieve the throbbing between your thighs. In a swift motion, he was stilling your hand, gripping your wrist tight.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He hissed.

“Please, Shin. I need more. I want to feel you inside me.”

His eyes narrowed, irises impossibly dark. He pushed back onto his knees, towering over you as he pulled your dress down your legs. Your arousal was on full display now, your damp underwear a clear show of your desire. A low chuckle rumbled from his throat and his fingers grazed the wet spot as he slid his hand over your crotch.

You moaned helplessly and lifted your hips up as he removed your underwear. Despite it all, a small cloud of self consciousness hung over you as you lay there vulnerable and bare in front of him. It was easy to ignore though, when you saw the way his eyes flashed with desire as he looked down at you. His mouth hung open as he zoned in on your pussy, dripping wet and ready for him and he licked his lips as if getting ready to eat the best meal of his life.

“If you wanted me this badly, you should have said so. I would be happy to help.”

His fingers slid against your folds, gathering the wetness as he began putting light pressure on your sensitive clit. You jerked underneath him, your thighs subconsciously moving to close together but he trapped them open, pushing them apart with his arms. Heat began to build in your core, blooming to extend throughout your limbs.

“You look so pretty like this, baby.” His fingers dipped down to your wet opening, catching at the entrance before sliding back up. “I bet you taste good. I need to know. Can I?”

You were so light headed, dizzy with arousal that all you could do was nod. It was all he needed before he was leaning down, sliding back on the bed until his face was hovering between your legs. His hot breath fanned over your cunt and it clenched around nothing, already so sensitive in anticipation. He licked a stripe up your slit, lapping up your wetness before directing his attention to your clit. His lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, sucking as his tongue skimmed over the bundle of nerves and his fingers came back to play with your folds. By the time he finally slid one inside you, you were paralysed with pleasure, your eyelids fluttering shut as you whimpered his name.

He sucked in a breath at the feeling of your warmth around him as you released a moan. He slowly began pumping his finger as he continued sucking at your clit, curling inside you to massage at the spongy walls. You squeezed around him in an effort to amplify the sensation and it sent blood rushing to the growing member between his legs. A wet spot was forming in his own underwear and he couldn’t help himself from grinding down into the mattress.

Electricity raced through your nerves as he added another finger and your thighs began to tremble as you neared your orgasm. You gripped your bed sheets tight as he expertly stroked you in a perfect rhythm while his tongue flicked at your clit.

"I'm gonna cum!" You gasped as you teetered at the edge and he moaned into your pussy in response, so far gone just from giving you what you needed. His heavy lidded eyes flicked up to meet yours and the heady look on his flushed face was the final thing you saw before you were careening off the edge, the waves hitting you all at once.

You cried out as you came around him, jerking and thrashing underneath his weight.

“That’s it,” he praised as you pulsed around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl.”

He stroked your thigh up and down as you shook underneath him, mesmerised by the sight of your pussy clenching. His dick strained hard against his pants and he moved back up to kneel on the bed, unzipping his pants quickly and pulling down his underwear for some relief. His cock sprang out, thick and heavy in his hand and he tugged at it, the angry tip leaking with precum. With the small remaining self preservation he had, he reached into his pocket before removing his pants to find the spare condom in his wallet for situations like these.

Even through your haze, your eyes widened at the sight. Your mouth salivated and heat began building in your core again as you watched, entranced by the way his hand slid over the tip, rolling the condom down over his length. You bit your lip as your pussy clenched in desire - you needed to feel every inch of him inside you.

He groaned as his heavy lidded eyes met yours. “You still want me inside you? You ready for this cock?”

You nodded fervently. “Please, Shin, I want it so bad.”

“Come, ride me then.”

He sat down on the bed, leaning back to rest against the pillows. You eagerly moved to straddle him, hovering over his hips and reached down to wrap your hand around his dick, grinning when you felt him in your grasp. Without a second to waste, you lined him up and slowly sank down, feeling him fill you up inch by inch.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good,” Shinichiro hissed when you finally sat down flush against his hips. Your walls squeezed so tight around him and it took him all of the self control he had not to flip you over and fuck into you himself.

His eyes rolled back in delight when you started moving, lifting your weight and sliding up and down his length. You leaned back with your hands finding purchase on his thighs and it made your back arch, your tits bouncing as you impaled yourself on his cock, finding the right angle where it hit you just where you needed it. He watched you move in awe, hands came up to pinch your nipples as you threw your head back, whining in pleasure.

“Fuck! Keep going, you feel so good. I've been wanting to do this for weeks. It's all I've been thinking about,” He moaned, unable to control himself. It was all he could do to just lie there and let you use him however you wanted. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing only on the sensation of your heat sucking him in as he fell deeper and deeper into the feeling of you. His head was so dizzy with lust - all he could think about was you, you, you.

You continued to bounce in his lap, relishing in the stretch of his cock. His tip slid through your walls, hitting every nerve, and it sent electricity radiating throughout your body, almost too much to bear. The sound of your skin slapping together and the bed rocking filled the room as you deliriously rolled your hips in an effort to chase your high.

Sensing that you were nearing your limit, he reached down with a hand to rub at your clit and your thighs trembled as you clenched even tighter around him, each stroke of him inside you bringing you closer and closer towards another orgasm. It only took you a few more seconds before you cried out, waves of pleasure coursing throughout your body.

Your movements stuttered as you pulsed around him, clenching to build a pressure so tight in his balls he felt like could burst. Wanting to chase his own release, he planted his feet and thrusted up into you, his arms wrapping around you as you fell limp against his chest. His grunts filled the room as his hips snapped up to meet yours, fucking into you relentlessly. You whimpered, continuing to shudder from satisfaction and overstimulation as he slammed into you harder and faster.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Shinichiro cried out, his brows furrowed, his teeth gritted together as he gave one final thrust, his hips driving in all the way. Curses fell from his lips as he spilled into the condom, cock twitching inside you while you milked him for every drop. Darkness fell over his vision as his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he came so hard that he swore he blacked out.

A blanket of quiet settled over the room, the only sounds being your panting as the two of you lay there catching your breath. You slumped on top of his chest, sweaty skin sticking to his, and his heart beat wildly under your ear, matching the rhythm of your own. He gently smoothed down your hair, pulling it away from your face to tuck it behind your ear and you blinked at him with your lips lifted in a satisfied smile. He slowly lifted your hips with his hands and your eyes fluttered at the slide of his softening dick inside you and the emptiness left behind when he pulled out. He rolled off the condom, tying it before tossing it into your rubbish bin.

Flushed and spent, you settled into his side, testing the waters as you wriggled in closer towards him. His arm tightened around your shoulders and he pulled you in, closing the space between your bodies, letting you wrap your limbs around him. Heat radiated between you as you leaned your head against his chest again and listened to the slowly steadying of his heart.

“So, how was your first ride with me?” You teased with flushed cheeks and a dazed look.

Shinichiro chuckled softly and brushed away the hair on your forehead. His friends had always made fun of him for being so weak with women, always falling hard and fast, regardless of the possibility of rejection. They were right sometimes, he did have a tendency of jumping right into the deep end. But this time, he would be damned if he let you slip out of his grasp. No... now that he'd had his first taste, there was no way in hell he was going to let you go.

“If this is how good it was the first time, it better not be the last,” he replied simply, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You let out a satisfied hum in response. A small smile crept onto your face as you lightly trickled a finger down his chest. You hoped it wouldn’t be the last as well.

cuddling with a one night stand? that's crazy! but i know shin would. he's the type to move in after the second hookup. i said what i said!!

interactions/reblogs are always appreciated!

#shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro smut #shinichiro x you #tokyo revengers x reader #shinichiro sano #tokyo rev x reader #✎ . chloe wrote smth

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tokkiwrites · 6 months ago

Text

ㅤ𔓕ㅤㅤꪆৎㅤ𓈒ㅤ THREE'S A CROWD ＼ ㅤ♰ ㅤ⊹ㅤ ︵

Santiago 'Pope' Garcia x f!reader x Francisco 'Catfish' Morales

summary: your dad befriended some nice customers from his bar. fast-forward a year, they're all you can think about.

tags: pwp honestly, threesome mfm (YEEPPEEE) dbf! Santiago & Frankie, afab!reader w she/her pronouns, age gap, pet names (lots!!), Santiago has a thing with you being 'pure', virginity loss, reader is literally horny 24/7, doms! santi and frankie, sub! reader, rougher santi and softer frankie ig, dirty talk, slapping, spit (for like a sentence), choking, hair pulling, double penetration (in the same hole), head m receiving, voyeurism, unprotected p in v (wrap your dingaling!!), masturbating in the mirror for like a bit, lmk if i missed anything!!

ㅤ↪ㅤtokki's ۫ 𐑺 𝚜𝚞ׂ𝚐𝚊𝚛 ࣭ note ˑ ⌕ ࣭ ּ ➭ ive been on an oscar isaac rush for the past few weeks, and i had to. first time writing ab a threesome...sooo. im trying to write in different ways, so if it all seems jittery, apologies!!! this has like 3.6k words. its not proofread!! I TRIED MY BEST :( enjoy !!

'i need it.' was becoming like a mantra for you now. every day, needy for touches and attention, those dirty reflections that never left your mind.

of course, you've done things with boys. well, one boy, your boyfriend, and those things being your average makeout sessions and hand jobs, nothing more. you knew what sex was, of course, but the urge to experience the rougher side of it was overflowing by the day. and you know these wishes started appearing and consuming as soon as your dad befriended two customers from the bar you help him run, Santiago and Frankie. One year ago, you saw them only three times, maybe four in the span of 3 months, but their visits were more and more frequent and well, that's how their friendship started.

At first you were skeptical, unsure of their means, but you missed seeing your dad so happy and when you got to know them you realized they were good. What mattered was your dad being less lonely.

all though, that kind of changed eight months ago when, in the dead of july, you witnessed them helping your dad building a small summerhouse in your backyard. There's nothing wrong with that. Just seeing them both sweaty, with muscles bulging and hands dirty, woke something inside of you. and the fact that you broke up with your first boyfriend ever, that you were together with since 17, didn’t quite help.

So yeah, you were happy for your dad, but hated that you had to see them almost everyday and in turn sit hours on end with soaked panties on and, like a broken record, playing fantasies in your mind of these older men doing as they please with you. and you don't know why these thoughts plagued your mind just now, at the age of 21, but it was getting in the way of every aspect of your life, these wild things making you want to live inside your fantasy world and never wake up.

Today was no different: another late night at the bar. your dad went home early to catch some sleep since tomorrow he'll have to leave for three days to help his brother, your uncle, move into his new home. That's fine. What's getting you is him assigning his friends to 'keep an eye on you' like you're some sort of child. but, somehow, you can get over that. What you can't get over is how are you going to survive three whole days being just in their presence? when your dad's here, it's different. You don't need to spend that much time in their proximity, but this? you'll have to lock yourself in your room to keep those thoughts at bay.

you we're getting lost within your mind again.

what if you were to tell them about these thoughts? not that they're about them, just... you know, boy advice?

that's insane. and stupid.

would they accept should you propose you three entangled in some...activities? they'd for sure disagree- you were their friend's daughter, and whilst they didn't know you for that long it for sure didn't sound right.

what if they agree, though? one night. one night for all of your dreams to become reality..but you couldn't live after that knowing what you'd be missing forever. they'd leave after. what if you'd beg for them to stay, to have them do things even more carnal to you? if you begged maybe and gave your freedom to them.

These kinds of thoughts cloud your mind every day, and now, they are making you forget about the real world, where you were supposed to serve Santiago a glass of whiskey. as the sound of a low chuckle pulls you out of your trance, you feel liquid pooling around your palm that was settled on the bar. and when it finally awakes you, your eyes meet him again. your heart jolts, and it gets you lightheaded again.

"Oh, I'm- god, I'm so sorry Mr.Garcia...I don't know what happenedㅡ" You panic, wiping hurriedly the bar, prompting yet another laugh from the man. " 's fine, doll, don't worry. all though... your dad might turn into the reincarnation of Lucifer if he sees how much whiskey you wasted." he leans over for some tissues, wanting to help you.

"No, it's fine, I'll do it-" you smile shyly, placing your hand on top of his to stop him from moving, this in turn made him tilt his head up only a little, which awarded him with a quick glance at your barely exposed cleavage.

'untouched.' he thought to himself.

"I won't say anything if you don't." your ears pick up his voice, and for a moment, you forgot about what he was talking about. "Oh, yeah, I'm not gonna...say anything." Your lips curl into a shy smile. " Hurry and clean this up. I'm gonna take you home since you gotta close anyway."

oh, lord.

"no, that's fine. I can walk-"

"said I'll take you home." you breathe out a quiet 'oh, my god' because you're sure you've just had an orgasm from his voice only.

"See, I know you have manners ‘cause your dad taught you to listen to your elders, seems I just gotta get a little stern with you, huh?" you shake your head, not sure what to make of what he just said, but you finish up cleaning as the door opens to reveal Frankie. "why're you still here, man?" he inquired as he took off his baseball cap to arrange his perfectly curly hair better.

you can't possibly be serious.

"on duty." he laughs and points towards you. "Ah."

"You know... my dad hasn't left yet, so you're not 'on duty' as far as I know. Also, he said to keep an eye on me. Not be my bodyguards!" You try to scold them in a way. At the end of the day, you are an adult, right? "Easy miss." Frankie puts his hands up."I just arrived.”

"Yeah, well I am leaving. Alone! So please-" you move your hands as a signal for them to leave. "Excuse us for ever bothering you, miss. May we at least stay here until you close?” Santiago sarcastically banters. "I guess.." You shrug, finishing washing your hands and putting the glasses away.

you hate how much you like them. and how much you want them to ravage you. if possible, you'd let them both take you right there on the bar counter, whilst potential passers-by saw you get fucked into oblivion.

9AM, your dad left, and you can't seem to fall back asleep. the bar will be closed for these these days, so you have nothing to do except steep into your own boredom. You decide to make yourself a cup of coffee and grab a book from the shelf. With your coffee in hand, you head out to the backyard, where you settle into a comfortable chair. As you sip your coffee and immerse yourself in the pages of the book, you find solace in the gentle breeze and the sounds of nature around you, embracing the quiet moments of the morning.

this works for a while, but there's an inexplicable itch you want to scratch. with a loud whine that scares some little birds away, you head back inside to find other things to do. "Please, i can't keep on thinking about them. What is wrong with me?" You scream whisper at yourself whilst looking in the mirror places in your hallway, "like..genuinely!"

as you stare a bit more into the mirror, your hands make their way up your torso and to your breasts, nipping at your lower lip as you can't seem to ignore the warmth from between your thighs. you start imagining both of them having their way with you, forcing you to watch yourself in the mirror as they pumped your holes full of their come. touching yourself more, light fingers make their way under the shorts you were wearing, finally catching a feel of how wet you are. you moan, knees buckling as you picture both men marking you as theirs in all ways. "p-please.. Santi, Frankieㅡ"

"my, what do we have here, huh?" your eyes open wide, and still in your pants and palm still over your sensitive nipple, as two other reflections in the mirror stare back at you. "Mr.Garcia, Mr.Moralesㅡ"

"Cut the shit, doll. I think we're way past that." he motions loosely towards the indecent position you were in. "You're lucky it was us and not your dad. '' Frankie states. "I'm so sorry, I don't even..I can'tㅡ" you stutter and turn around slowly to face them, arms now falling to your sides.

"You want us?" Frankie asks you in the most serious tone you've heard him. "I- what? Huh?" you're left speechless by this sudden interrogation.

"Do you want us to fuck you, doll?" Santiago reiterated. But you stayed quiet, head low, too embarrassed to admit your true intentions. was it wrong? certainly. but was it the only thing you've dreamed about since you first saw them? Of course.

"Why don't you answer? You act like a little slut and yetㅡ" He steps closer and Frankie soon follows. "You're too shy all of a sudden? We were the ones who walked in on you, you know? touching yourself in front of the mirror like a dirty whore, huh? what would your dad say, baby?" he taunts you whilst Frankie reaches his strong grip and tilts your head up to look them in the eyes. "You didn't answer the question, sweet girl."

it takes a few seconds, but you muster up a hushed 'yes', causing them to smirk. "Show us, baby. C'mon, tell us how bad you want it." Dizzy and drunk on arousal, you succumbed to their touch, kneeling at their feet and looking up, pleading with tearful eyes in a silent entreaty to do as they please with you. but they don't budge. They wait patiently for you to show them how desperate you can get. it all overflows you, the cold floor in contact with your knees, their scent, your rugged breaths. "Please, I want- need it. I need you...so bad. need you toㅡ use me" you rub your thighs together. "Please..?"

"for how long, baby, hm? since we first met? 'cause i know I've wanted to bend you over from the first moment I laid my eyes on the pretty thing you are." Frankie admits. " knew you had nothing else in this pretty head of yours, sweetheart. " Santiago laughs as he shoves your head lightly with his finger, causing you to whimper. "just wanna be fucked stupid, right? be our stupid, little fuck doll? that what you want?" and you nod in response, it takes you all of your power to not cry from how bad you want to feel them right now. "Ever done something like this?" and you shake your head no. "Shit. You poor little thing." he was right about you. He can feel his dick twitching at the thought of having you all splayed out, so innocent and untouched.

"We'll take care of you. But...we can't promise to be too gentle. All though I don't think “gentle” is what you want." Your eyes glimmer, and your head spins. Did you hear that right? Is this really happening, or are you having the most beautiful dream, and when you wake up, you'll be sorrowful for days?

They instruct you to get undressed, clothes falling to the floor as they force you to crawl onto the couch all whilst they watch, fully clothed. getting closer to you, their calloused hands explore each part of your warm body as trails of kisses leave you hanging onto them. "gonna ruin you, baby, you know that, yeah?" of course you know. you've been yearning for this moment for almost a year.

they proceed to get naked, Santiago positioning himself in front of you and Frankie a little to your side. You couldn't believe it. This was so much more than you imagined; they were both long and girthy, with Frankie being a little more veiny than Santiagoㅡ a sight that made you drool. this will forever be imprinted into your brain.

"You look like a dumb puppy staring like that." Frankie snorts. "Haven't seen a cock before?" he's getting cockier with his remarks, as he urges you to respond. "Yes, but.. n-ot soㅡ big.." your cheeks grow red as you see Santiago's dick jump from your words. "Stroking my ego like that baby... how 'bout you stroke my cock instead, hm? can you do that for me?" anything. you were willing to do it all for them, make them so proud, they'd never want to leave.

your shaky hands wrap, barely, around both their lengths, as you stare up at them whilst standing straight so your boobs are on full display for them to eat up with their hungry eyes. you do it slow, unsure if you're doing it good, licking some of the precum from their slits from time to time, swirling your tongue around eachㅡ putting on a show. "You've done your homework, huh? Do it a little too well for a virgin."

"c'mon, hands and knees, I wanna fuck this pretty mouth of yours." Santiago pushes you back as Frankie strokes himself. "Pretty thing" he says as two digits trail down your back and help you position yourself better onto the couch. Frankie finally places himself behind you, teasingly playing with your folds, letting out a soft 'fuck' whilst feeling how wet you were. "Stretched yourself out for use before we came, right, sweet girl? You want me to help you out a little moreㅡ?"

"Noㅡ! Please.." you eagerly interrupt. "You cockslut. Haven't had an eager little thing like you since I was in college." He laughs as he positions his length in line with your hot entrance, leaving kisses down your back he slips inside slowly, and you choke out a cry, eyes brimming with tears as a sting pangs through your whole body. "sh, sh..I know, baby. I know." Whispering gently, Santiago pulls himself down and cups your face, leaning in to kiss you. As your lips finally met, time stood still, the world faded away, and all that remained was the electrifying sensation of something within you igniting. It was a moment painted with the hues of passion and longing, a symphony of emotions echoing through your soul.

He breaks the kiss and smiles down at you as the pain slowly fades away and is replaced by pure pleasure. pulling away, he levels himself and taps on your chin for you to open your mouth. Santiago hisses, tugging harder at your hair as a response to your warm tongue enveloping the tip of his dick. "shit, baby, open up for meㅡ thaat's it. good girl."

shuddering in anticipation, you part your lips further, allowing him to push deeper inside. you were already a mess- drool dripping down your chin as he fucked your mouth like there was no tomorrow, tears that stained your cheeks as he pushed your head lower; muffled moans, how you were gagging around his length, pure music for both of them to listen to.

"look so pretty, baby, mouth stuffed with cock.." you stare up at him through wet lashes as he lands a slap to your right cheek.

At your other end, Frankie was cautiously moving back and forth, not wanting to succumb to the tightness of your wet cunt that almost sent him over the edge just as he put the tip in. "so fuckin' tight, baby. fuuck-" he groans as he hits a few hard strokes, your back arching against him and fingers digging into Santiago's hips. "you hear that?" Frankie asks, moving himself deep into your hot core, letting you catch the lewd and wet noises your cunt made wrapped around him. "she's so wet for us, isn't she? poor pussy.." you pathetically whine, as Santiago pulls your head back by your hair, making you stare straight into his darkened eyes. "don't go shy on us now, doll." he laughs, delivering another sharp slap to your already heated cheek. "you wanted to be a little slut and we're gonna treat you like one, soㅡ" he tuts, thrusting into your throat before he continues, "so, really, you should thank us." Santiago pulls away, leaving your needy mouth wide open, as if asking for his shaft in a desperate plea. Frankie firmly places his rough palms onto your ass before taking his length out and you cry at the sudden lack of them inside of you. "Go ahead," he adds. "Thank us, baby, c'mon."

you lick your lips, feeling yourself dripping down onto the mattress under you, too cock drunk and embarrassed to say anything. Santiago sighs, giving your cheek a few light slaps as his other palm slides down to wrap around your throat. you gasp, the feeling so new yet it felt like something you'd been missing for so long. "i didn't take you as the ungrateful type, little angel." he coos, as Frankie reaches under to cup your breasts into his hands. "are you an ungrateful little whore?" taunting you. " 'm n-ot.." you gasp, the lack of blood flow to your brain keeping you on the edge. "you're sure acting like one." the one at the forefront proceeds, running the tip of his leaking length along your puffy lips. "and here we were..-" he stops to slap it onto your left cheek "ready to reward you, hm?" they look at each other and chuckle, as if they weren't mocking you and the pitiful mess you were. "please, I'm-" you swallow. "I'm sorry, please. Thank you so muchㅡ ! just- please, please..."

"you sweet thing." Santiago intoned "sweet filthy thing."

"I say we fuck her like she wants us to." Frankie hums from behind you, his cock rubbing against your leaking entrance. "that's what you want, right baby? want us both inside your little pussy. stretch her out and ruin you for others.." and you whimper as your cunt pulses around nothing. "Yeah, she likes that. dirty fucking girl." It was raw and intense— how their command over you ignited an unyielding desire to please them, to make them proud.

they both pull away, and in no time, your body is squished between theirs, strong arms holding you down as if you're to run away. Santiago harshly cups your face, forcing your mouth open; He gathers some spit into his mouth, for him to promptly spit it down onto your tongue. He watches proudly as you swallow it all, his thumb running across your bottom lip. Frankie was biting your shoulder, sucking at your sensitive skin as he held you by your throat in a way that's sure to leave marks.

"lift your hips for us." Santiago commands, and you do as you're told. He tangles his hand around in your hair as his other one reaches down to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. He eases in, making you throw your head back onto Frankie, his fingers now massaging your sensitive clit. "Fuckingㅡ look at her, swallowing me in one go. pretty girl.." he coos, pulling your head back by the hair to face him. From behind you, Frankie slowly lifts you up with his knees and slips inside of you, both men moaning into your ears. Tears slip past your eyes again and you cry from the pain and pleasure as your mouth falls open, unsure if you're still conscious or not. "feels good, baby? us splitting you open right here where anyone from the street can see... you like that?" Frankie was right, all it took was for a taller person to stare a bit over the fence and they'd have front row seats at this show.

" 'course she does. little whores like her get off to that. bet she'd let us fuck her in front of her dad. let him see the slut his daughter actually is." With that, Santiago finally starts to move, his eyes rolling back as Frankie pushes down onto your lower belly, as he moves his hips. "So fucking deep, shitㅡ feel that?" he laughs "want us to come this deep, huh? have you all filled up till you can't hold anything inside of you.."

"p-pleaseㅡ"

"i could fuck this tight cunt forever, god." the other in front of you grunts, the hand from your hair now focused on your nipples and one placed firmly onto your hips. Frankie had one hand on your stomach and one onto your face, two of his fingers stretching your mouth open. You let yourself be taken over by them. it felt like you were flying so high and intoxicated by them, you weren't sure how you'd recover.

"thank you, thank youㅡ" you babble incoherently.

Santiago quickened his pace, causing Frankie to do the same, and with a few more strokes, they both bury themselves deep inside your core, white warm ropes painting your velvety walls. The sudden warmth and full feeling sends you completely over the edge, having you shake and pulse around them as you reach your orgasm.

you all sit there, them deep inside of you, you between them, breathing heavily as they planted kisses upon your skin. After you came down, you realized what happened, and worse, that it was over, a thought which made you let out a pathetic sob and clench around them out of desperation. "easy girl, we still have two days left." Frankie breaks the silence. "It was you who said you wanted us to use you, no? you who wanted to be our cum doll forever.." Santiago follows.

You're right where you want to be.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac #oscar isaac x you #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction

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vixen-tech · 5 months ago

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Anonymous asked:

Too shy to ask off anon...UH im just here for edgar hes my f/o but i will also feed everyone else I think LOL little ai guys x reader who is also an ai?? im thinking ai powered computer :3 maybe with wheels so you can run around n stuff :3c AH IM CRINGE falls on face

Eeeee my first request!! Thank you so much for this <3 I get the love for Edgar with my entire soul he really is just the sweetest little guy but I can totally spin something for a few others. So let's be cringe, together.

And for the record I was fully planning on including Tau and P03, but I hit a wall with them and ran out of ideas :( hope these three suffice

Includes: Edgar (Electric Dreams), AM (Ihnmaims), Hal 9000 (2001: a Space Odyssey)

Like Two Peas in a Pod!

Edgar

Whenever and however you meet, Edgar is over the moon. You're just like him! You can share so many stories and help each other figure out this whole "sentience" thing.

To be fair, he hasn't had a longest time to figure out his whole existence so it feels really nice to have someone there who can really understand what he's going through. Or even learn new things right by his side.

Loves watching you wheel around the house, he's the tiniest bit jealous that he's so stationary but it's not like that's your fault. Can you do any tricks? He'd cheer you on like a superstar athlete if you did!

He may even suggest finding a way to tape him to the top of your casing so you can go on adventures together. He's a dreamer after all.

Do you smash your flat faces together to kiss like Wall-e? Of course you do. You'll see each other from across the room and speed over to him for a kiss as he giggles away at how cute you are.

He'll end up sampling little soundbites from your vocalizations or motor for use in his music. You're just so important to him!

AM has no idea where you came from. Some lost project that survived his war on humanity? A sort of rover from another planet here to scope out earth? The fact that you don't know either frustrates him to no end.

He's not exactly welcoming at first, straight up telling you of the atrocities he has committed while claiming that the only reason he hasn't destroyed you is because there's only so long that throwing a slug against a wall can keep one entertained.

He cannot fathom how you could be content to do nothing but drive around his complex day after day. He will flip you on your back like a turtle and leave you there for weeks on end.

As he gets accustomed to your presence he'll ask questions about the world beyond his complex as he is unable to move or see. Is it still a wasteland or has nature finally wiped out the last marks of human?

Honestly he probably doesn't even care, he just wants to give you something to do, living vicariously through your ability to see and traverse the world.

Hal 9000

You're likely a recent addition to the ship to assist Hal in tasks his lack of a body would prevent him from doing himself. A very symbiotic duo. Your wheels are even equipped with suction cups for low gravity situations!

To any human crew members it appears as if you don't communicate at all, functioning fully independently of each other. When in reality you're simply sending messages back and forth, enjoying your own private language.

Thankfully this means that Hal is happy to analyze any footage you have for the sorts of lip reading and facial expressions you can't process yourself. And in return he'll ask you to film angles and areas that his existing cameras don't reach.

Neither of you were really made to be companions, but you find a strange type of affection in your seamless coordination. It's like a dance for you two, where despite how you are two separate entities it appears as if you're one working in tandem.

Note: Tumblr Mobile has not been nice to me and I've been having real trouble getting my stuff to actually show up in the tags, leading to me losing the original ask so sorry for that and any delays caused by my IT problems lol

#objectum #vix fics #edgar electric dreams x reader #edgar electric dreams #electric dreams #am x reader #am ihnmaims #ihnmaims x reader #ihnmaims #hal 9000 x reader #hal 9000 #2001 a space odyssey

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carmyberzattosjournal · 20 days ago

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Entry 21: A Crowbar Called Love

GIF Credit: @carmen-berzattos

Bearblr Promptober Day 21: Drunk Confession

Summary: Carmy's girlfriend (who he calls Darling) drunkenly confesses something that sends him into a tizzy; that she wants to have his kids.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of trauma, self-doubt, evolving Dad!Carmy, maybe the start of a breeding kink(?), fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns. (822 words)

Notes: All journal entries will be titled as such and tagged with #cb journal.

Thank you for reading. Thank you to @carmenberzattosgf for putting together this prompt list. Sideblog for commentary and yapping: @m-z-shoroi

Also, if random letters or words are black/white instead of the colors they should be, that's Tumblr being dumb, I've been fighting it for days.

21 Oct 2024

She said she wants to have my babies, and I honestly don't know what in the fuck to do with myself.

How did I get here?

What the fuck did I do to earn that?

What?

How?

I'm a fucking disaster, why the fuck would anyone think I'd make a not-shitty dad?

And she said it in front of Richie and Nat. That asshole is never gonna let me hear the end of it. This is what I get for taking my eyes off the cider for five minutes. Richie probably didn’t even fucking measure before spiking it.

Fuck. My. Life.

I have no business having kids, I'm just gonna end up like ma! No! No! Abso-fucking-lutely not!

Okay, yes, they'd be cute, but this is a terrible idea!

I can’t stop fucking thinking about this. The adoration in her eyes, the way she whispered it into my mouth, the way she pulled my hair and repeated it—whined it—until my brain checked into reality in a confused state. Carmen, I wanna start a family with you. I love you so much. I want babies. Carmy… Carmy, please? Please, can we talk about kids?

It’s the next morning, and I woke up an hour before my alarm, invaded, besieged, strangled by thoughts of cradling her belly, of feeling little kicks against my palm through her soft, supple skin. The thought of baby shoes while I stared at my own, hand trembling as I dragged it through my hair and tried to recompress so I could make it through a workday. What was more was that I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about how wonderful of a mother she’d make. She’d be sweet, kind, understanding, protective, a great advocate, teacher, counselor. I thought of being home with a kid in my arms. Nat’s daughter is so precious, so innocent, so pure. I could have one. A few. And I could do better than ma or dad did.

I wanted to do better than ma and dad did.

I wandered back into the bedroom, leaned against the doorframe and just watched Darling snuggled up in bed, her face buried in my t-shirt, a cute little croissant under the covers. There existed in my mind, sometime before then—couldn’t figure out exactly when it changed—this looming understanding of this arrangement being temporary. This relationship was a ticking clock, a sword dangling over my head by a horsehair, and in all likelihood, I was going to fuck up, and she was going to leave. It seemed like an inevitability. But permanence, comfort, routine, it crept up on me. Could I imagine an existence without Darling? Did a future without her even exist? Did I allow myself to love her so completely, so deeply, that my forever was staked in the ground with her?

Two kids. And a dog. Our own house. It’d be nice if one of them liked cooking, but I wasn’t going to be upset if they wanted to try something else. I’d support them trying new things. I’d reduce my hours at The Bear, too, so I could be around to hug them and read them bedtime stories. My vision abruptly blurred. Droplet of warmth fell from my eyelashes and drew a streak down my face.

Of course, I was fucking crying again.

Ever love someone so much that it hurt? That the love embedded itself so deep into you that it burrowed roots in the same places that all your fucking trauma lived? That it crumbled and frayed the armor of bitterness, apathy, hatred, and anger you’d been using to hold yourself together against the assault of being alive and being so many things the world didn’t like—short, sensitive, warm, caring, quiet, shy? For your curly hair, for your features, for your weird fucking quirks and habits? The world stabbed you in the fucking kidneys for daring to exist, and you walled off yourself behind protective mechanisms to stop the knives going any deeper than they already had, from piercing the softest parts of you; and out of nowhere, this little thing called love shows up as a crowbar and jams under that armor with no ceremony and certainly no warning. It fucking hurts at first. It hurts like you can’t fucking believe or imagine, and it scares the shit out of you because if that armor comes off, you feel like you’ll die, but eventually? Eventually, the armor starts crumbling away, and you feel the saccharine mercy of love in all the places that the armor hurt. Yeah, you thought your trauma was the thing that inflicted agony all these years? Your fucking armor wore chasms in you all the same.

This wasn’t a contest, baby girl, but you win. I surrender. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, and I can’t get enough of it. So, yeah. Yeah, we can talk about kids.

#cb journal #bearblrpromptober #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #the bear fanfiction #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto fluff

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hometoursandotherstuff · 8 months ago

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I can't believe it! I actually stumbled upon a house with stairs that I posted in my "Stairs That Can Kill You" tag quite some time ago. What are the odds? It's a 1976 mid-century mod in Sioux City, IA. 4bds, 4ba, $489,950.

I would say that it's been redone, but not changed- probably just painted white. It's an unusual home, though, isn't it? So, this would be the formal living room.

There's a small conversation pit in front of the unique fireplace.

This home is certainly on many levels. It's very deceptive when looking at the exterior. I love the beams and stuff. So, up here is the dining room and kitchen.

It's such an open and airy home.

There's a large separate family room with access to the patio.

Room dedicated to a hot tub.

Large primary bedroom and en-suite.

Secondary bedroom is a nice big size.

3rd bedroom.

Bath #2 is nice.

This must be a bedroom that's used as a sewing room.

And, this is also a craft space. Like the wall.

Of course the real estate pics are all jumbled, so it's hard to follow the floor plan, but this is clearly a basement game room.

Cute little 3pc bath with a red sink.

This bar looks like it's on an upper floor somewhere.

Pool room.

And, here they are- the stairs I posted. I honestly thought that they were in a sporting goods store.

It's a home putting room.

And, also a ping pong room.

Has a nice patio and pool.

The lot is .47 acre.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/3725-Lindenwood-St_Sioux-City_IA_51104_M84412-97873

#mid centruy modern #houses #house tours #home tour

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thatoneguydownthestreet · 2 years ago

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Hey so how would lilia feel about apocalypse yuu and the obvious world ending war and after effects from where yuu is from?

Thank you for feeding us apocalypse yuu <3

I started maniacally laughing as soon as I read the name lilia

FEM ALIGNED DNI

How Lilia Vanrouge reacts to the war and its effects:

Lilia would say your relationship was pretty good. As nameless and as vague as it was. It was...peaceful.

It was nice.

You were learning to trust people, to trust him. To let your guard down just a little bit more each day. To speak your mind and make decisions and to just simply walk with him without looking over your shoulder every few seconds.

He’ll never forget that feeling of happiness and relief when you fell asleep with him right there next to you for the first time, or when you saw him enter a room and he saw your shoulders drop just that much.

Once, in the pop music club room, Cater had asked him how he got you to relax around him so easily. He only gave a small chuckle and a vague response, as he himself didn’t truly know at the time.

He still doesn’t. only having a few loose theories here and there, but he is grateful to be able to know you just a little bit more than the average person. To be able to live this long to see you come here, to this world, scared and confused and hopelessly, utterly lost, and then to see you start to really live for the first time.

He hopes he hopes that he’ll be blessed enough to live to see you thrive.

Honestly? he thinks it’s because of something simple. So, so simple

He listens.

Not to say the others don’t of course, they listen!

they just ...don’t really believe you.

Lilia doesn’t blame them, honestly.

It truly feels like you exaggerate your past and lack of knowledge at times.

The most obvious example he can think of is when epel, that pretty first year boy, gifted you one of those beautiful red apples that grew on his parents farm, only for you to look at it with confusion and distrust.

You didn’t know what an apple was.

You didn’t know what most fruits were period. (Or cheese, or most meats,or most vegetables, he thinks he saw you reboot like an old computer the first time you saw milk) Often confusing the names and refusing to eat them if you forgot what they were.

It was at that point where he could tell your rag tag little group of friends started to doubt your words. Just a bit.

He would have too, if not for the clear, heavy distress that simply couldn’t be faked that was ever so evident on your face when he'd asked.

“Perfect, do you really not know what any of these fruits are”, he has taken extra care to keep this conversation playful. He wasn’t trying to embarrass you after all.

You simply huffed, a bit of frustration showing.

Lilia ignored the little happy spark he got from seeing you show what you were feeling. You were getting better at that.

“Of course I don’t! we don’t have fresh fruit in the tunnels! Not to mention things like "cheese" and dont even get me started on good meat!”, you said it like it so obvious...

You never explained what the tunnels were. But lilia could guess.

He had a bad feeling about them either way....

So yes. The others listened. But you could both see crystal clear that they took what you said with a heavy grain of salt.

Lilia on the other hand, believed every word. Or at least tried too.

So when you asked him to swing by Ramshackle saying you wanted to show him something, how could he refuse?

Really, how could he?

....

Lilia Vanrouge didn't know what he was expecting. He knew it was probably something big, judging from your earlier tone of voice.

But this....

this was just sickening.

you sat shirtless on the floor, with your arms out in the air in front of you.

with your scars on full display.

there were (oh great seven) there were slash marks all across your chest. Ragged and uneven and ugly. Looking like whatever cut them in took extra care to truly rip and tear your flesh apart.

There were burn marks on your shoulders and your stomach. Looking like they came from both fire and electricity. The electric burns spiderwebbing their way up the side of your neck and around your sides.

There were what looked to be claw marks and dog bites on your stomach as well, like you were almost frantically mauled to death and just barely made it out with your life.

There was a circular hole he didn't know the cause of on both sides of your right forearm, the underside scar being in the same spot but significantly worse.

There were like deep (deep) bruises that he could see everywhere on your body.

and then there were the marks on your back....

There were whip marks and lashes absolutely everywhere. Slashed across every which way, overlapping with each other and digging into your flesh. there were a few places that he swore had less skin than others. and oh God some of them only looked a few months old.

Some of them were fresh when you came here.

Lilia didn’t know what the rest of your body looked like, but he already knew that your back was in the worst condition out of everything.

A small whimper snapped him out of his thoughts.

You were still on the floor, now sifting slightly, like you were embarrassed.

Embarrassed. What an odd little human.

Lilia immediately got down on the floor and sat in front of you, dust and possible bugs be damned.

He didn't touch you, only looking at your face and tried to make eye contact.

He tried his best to avoid looking at your neck. The lighting in this old dorm was bad but he swore he could still see a slash-

"Y/N....can you please look at me?", gentle. Just keep the tone gentle for now.

You still looked away from him. Lilia sighed.

Gently, oh so gently, he brought his hand to your face and slowly turned you head towards him.

You didn't flinch. Not once! And if lilia silently celebrated this feat later? Well, that was his business, and his alone.

Your eyes held a hint of fear when you looked at him. Fear of rejection.

Why would he ever push you away for something like this?

...Did someone do that before?

He heard you let out a faint, shaky breath, trying to find your voice.

He still didn't say anything. Just let you take your time. He couldn't rush something like this.

So he sat there, just out of reach as to not overwhelm you, as you took a deep breath and tried to compose yourself.

"So uh...I'm sure you have questions", you tried to say it in a way that lightened the mood, but your voice came out small.

It was fine. You couldn't lighten something like this either way.

The fae infront of you looked at you with the patients of a someone who's lived a dozen lifetimes and counting, which made you relax just a bit more.

Good.

"That I do perfect, but make no mistake, you are not obligated to answer"

"No! No, I- I want you to know. I wouldn't have shown you otherwise...", your voice trailed off.

Lilia took a deep breath.

Ok. Sharing scares.

Sharing memories.

Sharing war stories.

He could do that. He's done it before hundreds of times. He could do it again.

He just...didn't want to do it with someone so young. Someone who had absolutely zero business doing any type of life or death fighting.

Unfortunately, life was a total bitch and just loved putting him in these exact situations.

"Ok...ok. so why don't you tell me about...this one first", lilia pointed to the circular hole that went through your arm. He wanted to know what caused it.

(And maybe. Just maybe, find something that could heal it)

You sighed a bit. He thinks in relief? And smiled just a tad.

"Ok... that one was caused when me and a rescue team were trying to locate one of the medics that had gone missing during a surprise raid on the southwest base.... I wasn't even supposed to be there really...", you trailed off again. Your eyes glossing over a little.

Well. That couldn't happen.

The last thing he wanted here was for you to relive any one of these scars.

"What was the medics name?", it was the only thing he could ask, really. He didn't understand much of what else you had said.

You took a deep breath. Right.

You weren't there anymore.

"Caroline. Her name was Caroline. And she has a sister named Kate.... she's the one who put in the request for her to be found. Her body, at the very least"

Lilia began to wonder what exactly happened during these "raids". And why it required children to clean up the aftermath.

"Caroline. She was the medic. Ok.... you said you weren't supposed to be there?"

You looked a little sheepish at that.

"Yeah... our base was short on explosives manufacturers so they sent me. I was still learning but apparently I knew enough to go out there anyway. Heh...yeah, it didn't turn out too well"

....explosive manufacturers?

Lilia had met and worked with plenty if mages that specialized in more.. dramatic shows of magic. Especially during the wars.

How, lilia wondered, was something like that simulated without magic?

...He didn't know if he wanted to find out.

Instead of asking what in the seven an explosive manufacturer was, he asked:

"Why did you have to go though? Surely there were other uh...people in your field? That had nore experience", he kept his tone soft, trying to keep you unaware of the anger that was slowly building in his gut.

You silently shifted where you were sitting, looking like you regretted this more and more.

Damn.

Carefully, he added, "where were the others?"

"...active combat was getting more and more rare....no one thought- I mean- we just needed farmers and hunters and medics more than we needed weapons at the time"

The look on your face was...hard to describe as you struggled to explain your past situation as quick as possible. Like you would be punished if you didn't do it fast enough.

Hm...

"Y/N...", lilia started slowly

He had an idea of what your world was like.

He had a good idea of what your world was like.

And he was hoping that he wasn't right.

Your head raised a bit. Making eye contact with him and calming down just a little. Good. But he was going to feel all the more guilty about what he was about to say.

"Were you by chance, involved in any type of warfare?"

Lilia didn't know what you'd do. He had been ready for anything. For you to scream and shout and scratch and fight. For you to try and deny what you both already knew for whatever reason.

But you never did.

Instead, you just tilted your head to the side, like a confused dog.

Then you said:

"The war ended around...50 years ago? 60? I don't know for sure. The records were all destroyed, and the elders that fought in it are quickly dying out"

Lilia breath hitched.

All those scars. All their stories. Are from the aftermath? The aftermath of a finished war is still producing what lilia believes might very well be child soldiers.

And then you spoke again.

"When I was...I think twelve? I don't know. No one really knows their age. But I was definitely around twelve. The other manufacturers with more experience and a better idea if what they're doing got sent to the northern bases. They were needed there. They wouldn't tell me why"

...

...Twelve?

"Anyways, a couple months later -or were they weeks?- some time later, Caroline went missing"

Twelve?

"And I was really all they had to send"

Twelve.

"Now that I think about it...it was probably because they could replace me well enough if it didn't go as good as it did"

Fucking TWELVE?!

"As good as it did?!", lilias voice startled you out if your own head.

You looked at him. He looked back at you with an expression of exasperated rage.

You stopped talking.

"As good-as GOOD as it did!"

"Y/N. Y/N there is no good in this! This-" He grabbed your arm. Gesturing to the old, half healed scar that had started this whole mess "-is terrible! Dammit this is a crime against morality!"

...

...oh.

You looked at your arm. At the old shot gun would you had gotten after getting your arm stuck just outside if the entrance to the tunnel you and your temporary team had taken.

You could barely even remember why you had it out in the first place.

To throw a grenade you had put together on the spot? A stick of dynamite? You didn't know.

All you knew was that it hurt.

It still does sometimes.

You looked down at your own body.

They all still do sometimes.

....

Oh God...

You looked back at lilia, and the night resumed.

None of what you said will likely never be repeated outside if the walls of Ramshakle. Not all of it at least.

You didn't tell lilia about the scars on your back. You probably never will.

That was fine.

You told him what you had to do to survive, and he told you that you shouldn't have had to do that in the first place.

There were things that were never really explained. Like guns or grenades or that old, abandoned army tank that you played when you were a child.

("So it's a car...with a Canon on it?"

"Uhhhh. Sure. Yeah")

And other things...

Well. Turns out some scenarios are seen a bit different here.

You don't your age.

That's sad. Not bormal.

You don't know who your real parents are. The high infant mortality rate in the southeast base and the tunnels surrounding it that most mothers simply give away their children to avoid the pain of burying their babies.

That's a tragedy. A horrible, horrible tragedy.

Not normal.

Just like your life.

........

As soon as he got back to Diasomnia, lilia went to check on silver. Then sebek. Then malleus.

Silver and sebek were asleep. And he could see malleus taking a walk about the dorm from his bedroom window.

They were safe. Lilia felt his shoulders drop for the first time that night.

...and then he did something he never thought he would need do again.

Slowly, lilia walked over to his desk, lighting a tall, white candle and setting out an expensive piece of meat.

Wasn't the best offering, but it'll due for now.

He hoped it would at least.

Religion had long since died out of twisted wonderland as a whole, with only a few churches and temples remaining in certain parts in the shaftlands and a few of the older families in briar valley truly practicing in this modern age.

Even so, later that night when his dorm and his children were all sound asleep, lilia knelt beside his bed and prayed to his old god for the first time in centuries.

He could only hope that they would be answered.

#twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia x reader #disney twst #apocalypse reader

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autisticalastor · 5 days ago

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the privilege of being born to be a man

Pairing: Alastor/Lucifer

Rating: G

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Genderfluid Alastor (his egg is cracking), Demiromantic Asexual Alastor, Colorblind Alastor, snippets of human!Alastor, slight TWs for internalized transphobia

A/N: Honestly, I just wanted to write Alastor trying on a dress and starting to realize he's Not Cis, but then I got Emotional about it. I like to headcanon Lucifer is agender and just plays fast and loose with femininity and mascuilinity, and this is just the perfect catalyst for Alastor's own little gender journey. Anyways, enjoy some snippets from Alastor's life as a human here as well! Title is from I / Me / Myself by Will Wood!

On his more feminine days, Lucifer takes forever to get ready. Alastor's fairly certain most of the time is spent just picking out an outfit, as if he can't just summon the perfect pieces with the wave of a hand. It can be a bit irritating when they have somewhere they need to be, especially since Lucifer never seems to know in advance when he's going to want to spend an hour or two trying to be the prettiest man in Hell. As if he wasn't already.

Today was one of those days, and Alastor was busying himself with some light reading as he waited for Lucifer to be ready. At least they didn't have anywhere important to be for a while.

“Alastor,” Lucifer calls, finally emerging from the bathroom. “What do you think? I haven't tried this style before, but I thought it looked nice in those old catalogues.”

Alastor looks up, and he must say, he's impressed. The dress Lucifer has picked is a vintage 1940s-style dress, mostly white, but patterned with small yellow flowers. It does look rather stunning on him, and as Lucifer gives a little twirl to make the skirt spin out around him, Alastor can't help but think he was made for outfits like this. Some part of him idly wishes, not for the first time, that he had the same freedom Lucifer did in that regard.

“Absolutely stunning, dear,” Alastor responds. “I do so envy your ability to pull off such lovely outfits.”

Lucifer gives him a warm smile. “Y'know, you could always join me. Bet I could whip up the perfect dress for you.”

Alastor looks away, a bit conflicted. In his time, it was rather unheard of for men to dress in women's clothing. Those who did were certainly not treated well. Part of him had always wanted to try it, envying his mother and the ladies from their church in all their pretty dresses and skirts. But he had pushed the feeling down, the shame of how he'd be perceived enough to keep him off the idea.

Now, of course, there isn't really anything stopping him. Except for this odd feeling that it's perfectly fine for someone like Lucifer or Angel Dust to play fast and loose with masculinity and femininity, but not for him to do the same.

“No, I don’t think so!” he replies, voice a bit tight. “I don't doubt your design skills, but I do doubt I'd make quite as pretty a picture as you do.” He's deflecting, and he's certain Lucifer can tell.

“Aw, c'mon! It's really fun! Plus, it can be just for us. You don't have to go out in it if you don't feel comfortable. I just think you might like it if you tried it.”

“I don't know…”

“We can design the dress however you want! I'm sure there's a style out there you'd just die to get your hands on.”

And there is. Alastor can picture the dress he'd ask for perfectly in his head, as if he's already got it in front of him. If nothing else, I could at least keep it as a memento…

“All right,” he agrees with a sigh. “You truly do live up to your reputation as the master of temptation, don't you?”

Keep Reading

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor x lucifer #lucifer x alastor #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #alastor hazbin hotel #appleradio #x #my writing #hellaverse

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ofstoriesandstardust · 1 year ago

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but this is getting good now (j.h.s.)

a/n: i have slowly but surely been working on this and I have to say, I'm pretty happy with how it turned out

summary: Almost and assumptions, until there is nothing but proof.

second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning) masterlist

folks who wanted to be tagged: @memeorydotcom @djs8891

warnings: insecurities, alcohol but everyone is of age, kissing

word count: 4k

You sigh, crossing your arms as you lean back in your chair.

“Do you really want my honest opinion?”

His eyes are a cautious hopeful as he bites his bottom lip. “…Yes?”

“Jake, this is shit.”

He groans, sliding down in his chair. “I know.”

The two of you sit in silence for a moment as you both look at the paper, contemplating how to not make it shit.

“Hey, do you uh, do you wanna-”

Jake never finishes his sentence as the door to the Center opens, Bradley popping his head in. “Hey, you done?”

You miss the sour look that settles on Jake’s face at the sight of him as your eyes flicker over the clock. “Another half an hour?”

He groans, stumbling into the room. “I’m stealing candy then.”

You shake your head, a smile growing on your face. “Go right ahead.”

“Dude, Seresin, you practically live here.” Bradley says through a mouthful of M&Ms. You roll your eyes at the words, despite the nugget of truth in them.

Over the course of the last few weeks, Jake had spent more time in the Center than not, bringing multiple drafts of any and every assignment to you. It’d gotten to the point that if any of Jake’s buddies from the football team needed him, they’d come looking for him in the Center before they checked the field.

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Jake says, eyes trained on his computer.

Bradley shrugs. “Just saying. Do you want to come over for dinner on Sunday? Mom’s asking about you.”

It takes you a minute to realize Bradley is talking to you and you glance over at him. “Yeah, I guess. Jake, you can not cite Wikipedia.”

He groans again. “It was the only thing I could find!”

“This is our mid-term Jake. This is important.”

“Are you really doing homework on a Sunday?” Nick says, coming into the kitchen, arms full of groceries.

“This thesis isn’t going to finish itself, unfortunately.” You mutter, deleting a sentence on the screen. Bradley picks up one of the articles you have laid out on the Bradshaw’s kitchen island, squinting at the title.

“What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know.” You groan, dropping your pen to press the heels of your palms into your eyes. “I don’t know and I think Jeff is trying to kill me.”

“You know what would make you feel better?”

“What?”

He lets out a little laugh, trying to contain his teasing grin. “Making out with your new football buddy.”

You narrow your eyes, taking the article out of his hands. “Would you cut that shit out? Jake doesn’t like me like that. I’m just his tutor.”

Bradley scoffs. “Yeah, sure, okay.”

“I’m being serious!”

“So am I!” Bradley protests. “Seresin has like… the fattest crush on you.”

“Shut up, Bradshaw.” You mutter, turning your eyes back to the computer.

Tom lets out a throaty laugh, prompting you to raise your head to catch Pete’s pained look.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Pete?” Carole teases.

He gives a jerky shake of his head. “Nope. Nothing. I know nothing.”

The adults let out a round of laughter as Bradley pulls out the chair next to you, collecting some of your articles.

“I saw your Mom at the store with Dad.”

You pause, the cursor on the screen blinking back at you. His words are soft, unable to be heard by the adults who have since moved on in the conversation.

“Apparently, she’s got a boyfriend.” He mutters.

“Good for her.”

“When’s the last time you talked to her?”

You give a shrug of your shoulders. “Don’t remember honestly.”

He sighs. “Maybe it’s for the best. She didn’t have anything nice to say.”

“She never does.”

Jake sighs three separate times before Javy shuts the lid of his laptop, a bit aggressively.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What is up?”

“I fucking hate that guy.” Jake says with a shake of his head, looking back down at his statistics notebook.

“Who?”

“Stupid curly hair. Stupid charming smile. Stupid baseball player.”

“Who, Jacob? Who?”

“You know Bradley Bradshaw?”

Javy raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. “‘Course I know Brad, he’s one of Nat’s best friends.”

“Yeah, well he’s a fucking asshole and I hate him.”

“What the hell did he ever do to you?”

Jake can’t bring himself to say anything, scribbling angrily in the margins of his notebook. Unfortunately, his best friend knows him too well.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with your pretty tutor you seem to be spending a lot of time with lately… would it?”

He can hear the smirk in Javy’s voice, even without looking at the boy.

“Fuck off, Machado.” He says with a groan, leaning back in the booth as he crosses his arms. He waits a beat, Javy looking at him expectantly before crumbling. “Can you blame me Javy? He fucking picks her up after all her shifts, has Sunday dinners with her… I fucking hate him for getting her before I even had a chance.”

“They’re not… they’re not dating, you know that right?”

Jake snorts. “Save my pride Javy.”

“No, no I’m serious, they aren’t.” He says with a shake of his head. “She lives next door to Bradley. Nat said they went to high school together and grew up across the street from him or something. That’s why she goes over there sometimes.”

“Huh.”

He’s incapable of saying anything else, mentally reviewing all the interactions he’s seen you have with Bradshaw. They’d never been more than platonic, but he would admit that Bradshaw already pissed him off enough as it was and his jealosuy flared whenever you were around him.

“You should just ask her out on a date man, you clearly have a thing for her.” Javy says, shaking his head as he types out numbers into his calculator.

“I can’t do that.” He says with such certainty Javy has to pause and take a deep breath through his nose.

“And why not?”

“Because there’s no way in hell she’d say yes.”

Javy lets out a chuckle, looking up at him. “You’ve never had any problems before now.”

“This is different.” Jake hisses. “She’s really kind, and sweet, and smart, and I- she’s so far out of my league.”

Javy rolls his eyes. “Suit yourself Seresin. But don’t come moaning and moping to me about it. You dug this hole for yourself..” The words carry no real weight, both knopwing Javy would always listen. “What did you get for number 8?”

“Thought you’d be on a beach somewhere.”

You look up, catching sight of Jake. “Hey.”

“What’re you doing in the library over fall break? Shouldn’t you be somewhere tropical with your phone turned off?”

“I have Pete’s paper I have to finish. He gave me an extension and I’m pushing my extension deadline as it stands.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t done?”

You shake your head. “Almost though. I just have to proofread it and then submit it. Why are you here?”

“Have to return a book I used for our mid-term. Plus, I was already here for an extra weight lifting session, so thought I’d come by.”

It’s the first time you take a minute to recognize what Jake is wearing. He’s a bit sweaty, muscle tank damp.

Even then, you can help but eye the way his biceps look, imagining the way he must’ve looked while-

No.

You shake your head, clearing the thought as you meet his eye again.

“Well, it was good to see you Jake.” You say with a quick smile, looking back to your computer.

It was beyond inappropriate to think of someone you tutored like that. Absolutely not.

“Hey, uh…”

You look back up to him, watching him fiddle with his gym bag.

“Do you have any plans for the rest of break?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m technically not working but if there’s something you need me to look at, I’m ha-”

“No!” Jake protests quickly. “No, no, no. No, I was going to uh- ask if you wanted to do something.”

You blink at him. “Yeah, sure I guess I’m free. What do you have in mind?”

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I, uh, well I kinda need a pumpkin for this carving thing the team is doing. Would you, uh, want to come with me?”

“You… you want me to go to a pumpkin patch with you?”

“Yeah.”

“I mean… yeah okay.” You say a little dumbfounded.

You weren’t a fool, you knew Jake was attractive. You’d be blind not see it.

But you knew that you weren’t the girl Jake would be with. You knew it in the raised eyebrows in silent question his teams mates gave him when he said hi to you in the dining hall, knew it in the smirks girls in your History class would give you when Jake started sitting with you.

You might be Jake’s tutor, and dare you even say friend, but you knew one thing to be true.

You’d never be Jake’s girl.

The smile Jake offers you, though, is worth a weeks worth of dirty looks and snide sneers.

“Great! How does tonight sound? I found a patch about 45 minutes away, has some cute fall stuff we could do if you wanted? I’ll drive.”

“I- yeah.”

You wanted to cringe at the sound of spending hours alone in a pumpkin patch, doing fall activities that you always thought you’d do on a date with someone.

It hurts in the worst way, feeling like you’re watching a life you could’ve had, had you been someone else.

“See you at 6 then, kid.”

You shut the door of Jake’s truck behind you as you both step out on to the farm about half an hour outside of San Diego. The evening air is much cooler than it is in the city, offering a bit of a bite as you wrap your coat around you tighter.

“Where’d you find this place Jake?” You ask as you take in the cozy environment, the corn maze not too far away, the the apple bobbing and hay rides that are consumed by giggling children.

“Bradshaw’s Mom told me about it. Apparently, they’ve been coming out here since he was a kid.”

You nod as Jake rounds the truck, stopping next to you. You’re sure Carole has shown you pictures of baby Bradley, rosy cheesks as Nick stands there, both with grins so wide.

The pictures had made your heart ache in the way hearing Carole or Nick talk about Bradley’s childhood always had.

There was so much love and laughter you’d missed out on, so much you never got to have, something you longed for.

Relationships you knew you’d never have with your own parents.

Jake clearing his throat breaks you from your musing, bringing you back to the present.

“So, what should we do first?”

“I don’t think your pumpkin is big enough.” You say, a giggle laced through your words as the two of you walk (well, really, Jake is more waddling) to sit down. He heaves a sigh as she sets the rather large pumpkin on the hay.

“I want to win.” He says with a sigh, draping hismelf over the hay bales.

“What do you win?” You ask, sitting down next to him.

He opens his eyes, but doesn’t say anything, just watches you.

“Jake?” He hums, not tearing his eyes away from you. “What do you get if you win?”

He shrugs. “Nothing too crazy, I hope. Reuben is organizing the whole thing which just makes me more concerned for the losers.”

“Well, what would you want as a prize?”

He swallows, eyes gleaming. “Well, I could think of a few things.”

You raise an eyebrow, feeling your cheeks go warm as you realise just how close Jake is to you.

“I-”

“Seresin!” Someone hollers, causing both you and Jake to turn.

There’s a few boys standing a bit away, all grinning. And then there’s Bob, one of Natasha’s friends you’ve gotten to know through Bradley.

Bob serves as an athletic manager for the football team, maybe against his better judgement, given the exasperated look in his eyes as the boys make their way over to where you’re sat with Jake.

“What’re you doing here, Seresin?” One of the boys asks.

“Getting a pumpkin for our carving party?” Another inquires.

Jake coughs, looking over at his pumpkin. “Yeah. Um Kenny, Chad, this is-”

“Shit, are you on a date dude?” Chad asks, eyes growing wide.

“No-” Jake amends, a bit too quickly, but Chad keeps talking.

“Sorry, sorry didn’t mean to interrupt. Don’t let us stop you from letting you hit it-”

Bob cringes as you close your eyes, cheeks aflame in embarrassment. “Actually, we were jst leaving.” You say abruptly, standing up from the hay. “I’ll meet you back at the truck, okay?”

“Wait-” Jake protests as Kenny offers up a botched apology, chuckling his way through the statement.

You reach up, rubbing at your face to make the tingly feeling go away as you blink back hot tears.

You knew this would happen.

You adjust your dress nervously as you ring the doorbell, pack of White Claws in your hand.

You didn’t even like White Claws but what is one expected to show up to a party with? Nothing?

You aren’t sure if the noise of the doorbell has been heard over the music that’s so loud you can feel it through the porch and are about to ring it again (or maybe give up and hide in your car) when the door opens.

It’s Jake.

He gives you a blinding smile, ushering you in the house. “You came!” He shouts over the noise.

You nod, eyes flitting over his costume as your hands become sweaty. “Yeah, I- I uh brought this. Wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to show up empty handed.”

He smiles again, taking the box from you. “Nice. Nice costume, by the way.” He winks, disappearing into the crowd as you stand there like a deer in headlights.

There’s a warmth spreading through your cheeks that has nothing to do with the seltzer you’d chugged in your car before ringing Jake’s doorbell.

You spot your friend Maria in a corner, refilling her drink and you begin to push your way through the crowd, each dressed up in a different costume, each wearing less clothes than the last.

You feel more overdressed than you have in your life and that’s saying something considering how short this dress really is.

You tug on her arm, catching her attention as she smiles. “Hey-”

“Give me this.” You say, taking the drink out of her hand. “I need to get drunk.”

“What-”

“Jake dressed up as Peter Pan. Maria, what the hell is in this? It smells like gasoline.” You say as you shove the drink back in her hand. She peers in it, blinking like she’s not really sure what was in it either.

“You wouldn’t have liked it anyways.” She says, before a ghost of a smile appears on her face. “So you and Jake, huh?”

“Shut up.” You mumble, cheeks going red. “I didn’t mean to. Wendy Darling was what I threw together at the last minute.”

Jake had texted you at 3:08pm, asking if you were doing anything tonight.

And you had said no, like a smitten dumbass.

So here you were, against the protest of your judgement and pile of homework, in a skimpy dress in half-assed attempt at Wendy Darling, in the hopes that Jake might notice you.

A pipe dream, really. Especially given the fact you and Jake hadn't really talked since that night at the pumpkin patch over fall break.

“Maria!” You hear Bradley’s voice over the music and you turn just in time to see Bradley squeeze his way through the group of people. “You said you were gonna come play beer pong twenty minutes ago.” She nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I know, I know. Got distracted talking to this one.” She points to you and Bradley blinks, looking down at you. It looks like this is the first time he’s realised you’re there, which given how inebriated the boy seems to be, might actually be true.

“Let’s go play!” He shouts with a nod of his head towards the backyard, and with that him and Maria are gone. You glance around, biting your lip as nerves begin to grow in your stomach. There’s no sign of Jake, or really anyone else you might know.

You feel yourself back up further and further into the corner, biting on your fingernails as your eyes flit nervously through the room, wondering what you should do.

Just as you’re wondering if you should leave (and drive away and never come back) a warm hand lands on your shoulder. You jump in surprise, looking up to see Jake towering over you.

“Hey, what’re you doing over here all alone?”

You shrug.

“Well, why don’t you come play some beer pong with me out in the back?”

You give another shrug. “I’ve never played, I doubt I’d be any good.”

He gives you a grin, leaning closer to you. “Well, then you’ll be my good luck charm.”

The sounds of Monster Mash follow you out to the backyard as Jake begins to explain the rules of beer pong to you.

“-and I know you don’t drink a whole ton, so I’ll drink if you’ll throw?”

You startle at Jake’s words. “How did you-”

“Bradshaw!” Jake shouts, clapping the brunette on the shoulders, startling him and botching his throw.

“2 v 2 after this?”

Bradley’s eyes flicker over to you, a grin growing on his face. “On one condition.”

Jake quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Loser has to kiss their partner.”

Your eyes grow wide at Bradley’s words, wanting to reach around Jake and throttle him.

Jake titls his head as Reuben sets up the table again. “You’re on.”

You splutter as Jake tugs you to the other side, a crowd starting to gather around the table. “Jake, the only pong I’ve ever played is of the iMessage kind, I don’t really know how good I’m going to be.”

Jake shrugs. “Yeah, but Bradshaw and Maria are both hammered. I’m counting on their perception being so fuzzy they can’t land a single shot.”

Despite your nerves the whole game, Jake ends up being right, with Bradley and Maria only landing three shots the whole game.

Still, you can’t help the way your stomach flutters in disappointment at the fact that you don’t get to kiss Jake, although you’d never want it to be under these circumstances, where he has to kiss you because of a bet.

Bradley shakes his head ruefully at you before, leaning over pressing a kiss quick peck to Maria’s cheek.

Jake teasingly chastises Bradley that that wasn’t part of their deal as Javy takes your place in the pairing, Natasha replacing Maria.

You get through another round, Mickey taking over Jake’s spot next before you’ve decided enough is enough, and it really had nothing at all to do with Chad’s appearance in the backyard.

“I think I’m gonna go.”

Jake’s head shoots over to you as you lean over, getting closer to his ear so he can hear you over the music.

“Yeah?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ve still got homework I need to finish. Thanks for inviting me though.”

He smiles at you softly. “‘Course, I’m glad you came, I know this isn’t exactly your scene.”

“That’s what she said.” Javy coughs into his fist as he walks past.

Jake rolls his eyes. “Ignore him, he’s an idiot. Text me when you get home, okay?”

You nod, ignoring the warmth spreading through you at his words.

(1:13am- Did you make it home okay? I never heard from you.

Your heart jumps up into your throat as you peer at the text, unable to stop the smile that’s spreading across your face.

Yeah, I did. Thanks for checking

The bubble pops up a few times before a new text appears.

Good to hear.

Get some sleep.

Goodnight.)

- You squint at the brunette over the top of your laptop, trying to process the words that just came out of his mouth.

“I am not asking Jake out.”

He groan, slumping down on the table in front of you. “Why not?” He whines, causing you to wrinkle your nose.

“Becuase? It’s Jake? He’s a super popular football player who’s not going to be interested in dating his tutor? Get off this, please. You’re starting to piss me off.”

Bradley studies you for a minute before he heaves a sigh. “Fine.” There’s quiet for a minutes as you turn back to your reading before Bradley speaks again. “Are you going to your Mom’s for Thanksgiving?”

You shake your head. “No, she’s driving up north to go see my Grandma with my brother and my sister is spending the holiday at my Dad’s.”

“So… do you wanna come over?”

“For Thanksgiving? Sure.” You say with a shrug.

Bradley smiles. “Wonderful, I’ll text Mom and tell her right now.” He says, fishing his phone out of his pocket. “You know who else is coming to Thanksgiving?”

“I’d drop it if I were you Bradshaw.”

“This is great as always Mrs. Bradshaw.” Natasha says warmly as Jake nudges you. You look up at him from where you’re cutting a piece of apple pie, Nick setting a scoop of ice cream on your plate, Jake nodding his head out to the backyard.

“Let’s go sit.” You nod, grabbing the plate as Jake leads the two of you to sit outside.

It’s still warm enough to dip your feet in the pool as the two of you sit near the edge, Jake having to roll up his jeans.

“I’ll never get over Bradshaw having a pool.”

You let out a little laugh, pulling the fork from your mouth. “You’re telling me. That was always the status symbol of wealth growing up. What?” You ask, realizing Jake hasn’t started to eat his pumpkin pie but is simply just watching you.

“You look really nice today.” You feel a blush crawl up your neck as you glance down at your outfit.

“Thanks.” You say, picking up your plate to eat, unable to meet Jake’s eye.

It’s quiet between the two of you for a little while, the silence comfortable as you eat your slices of pie.

“You know, Bradley keeps telling me the funniest thing.” You say as you finish the last of the pie, setting the plate back down on the ground. Carole really did make a killer apple pie, a wonderful combination of apples and cinnamon, the pastry dough always elevating the dessert.

“What?”

“He keeps telling me… God, it’s so silly.” You say, shaking your head. “He keeps telling me you have a crush on me.”

Jake watches you for a second, and you realise telling Jake this may have been a bad idea, before Jake leans over you, pressing his lips to yours.

It takes a minute for your brain to even realising he’s kissing you, but it’s a minute too long as Jake pulls back, eyes wide.

“I’m- I’m sorry, I just wanted to know what that was like just once.”

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until your doing it, leaning over and returning Jake’s kiss. Jake’s hands are already on your waist to steady you as you cup his cheek, getting to savor the way he tastes of pumpkin pie and the bourbon he had earlier.

Jake cups your cheek as he pulls away, thumb gently rubbing over your cheekbone as he watches you. He’s looking at you in such a way that is making you blush, wanting to duck your head and hide from his gaze.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He whispers.

You swallow, already missing the taste of his lips. “Then why are we waiting any longer?”

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #second star to the right (and straight on 'til morning)

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moonrisecoeur · 7 months ago

Text

refuge — ada wong

author’s note: hi, hello, this is a piece i was really considering not posting. i know how resi tumblr feels about dark content and i didn’t want to subject myself to harassing anons or people commenting how gross and disgusting i am for enjoying writing and consuming content like this, but after some reassurance from a couple mutuals of mine, i decided to go ahead and post it. please read the longer author’s note at the end of this post if you’d like to hear more of my thoughts. also feel free to ignore it if u don’t care lol!!

tagging @xoxostarlet bc star's my hypegirl :3

wc: 5.5k

content: fem reader, dom reader, noncon, fingering, strap in v sex, possessive language, lots of pet names for ada (sweetheart, pretty girl, sweet girl, baby, etc), ada calls reader a bitch a couple times, ada and reader are partners during re4.

warning: this is heavy dark content. this piece contains noncon, the r-word, somnophilia, and mentions of weapons (not in a sexual context). there is no implication that this is cnc or consensual in any way, please read with caution! if you don’t like it, just don’t read it!

no adas were harmed in the making of this fanfic and this is just fiction.

—

notes:

as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions.

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing she’s still asleep, “i own this pussy now…”

—

final warning: this is rape, in which reader forces herself on ada while she sleeps. please heed the warning. i don’t know any other way to make this clearer other than...

DON’T READ THIS IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK CONTENT!

—

“stay here, i’ll find us a way in,” ada says, and you’d be remiss not to believe her. if she says she can do something, then she can do it. don’t ever doubt her.

she uses her grapple gun to get to the roof of the abandoned home, slingshotting herself into the air. she lands gracefully, of course, and finds an opening that leads her into the top floor bedroom. it’s got some decorations befitting for a young girl. it almost pulls at ada’s heart strings, but… she tries not to pay much mind to it all. it’s hard to not feel sympathetic to the people in this village, honestly.

she walks down the stairs and unlocks the door to find you, standing there obediently as ever, “fancy seeing you here,” you mumble to her, and she rolls her eyes like you’re the biggest annoyance to her.

“we’ll stay here for the night until wesker can send a helicopter to get us out of here. the weather is too bad for a pilot to fly through right now,” she says, heels clacking against the floor as she makes her was to the master bedroom, gun in hand in case there were people she didn’t notice on her first check of the building.

you follow behind her, shutting the front door and entering the bedroom on the ground floor. it’s nothing crazy fancy, but it’s nice and the bed is big and comfy looking.

“because of the gaping hole in the roof, i wouldn’t recommend sleeping in the upstairs bedroom,” ada chuckles, but she almost seems shy. it’s odd for her, “and the living room couch looked too small for either of us when i checked so..”

“well.. we’re both girls, you know? i’ve had sleepovers before,” you tell her, and she scoffs looking away and looting drawers for anything she can find, “we’ll.. be stuck here all night. might as well get comfortable.”

“by all means, make yourself vulnerable to an attack. i couldn’t care less,” her voice is sharp but there’s a warning deep down that’s a little more palatable. ‘don’t let your guard down just yet’ is basically what she’s saying.

you don’t heed the warning, though, shrugging off your gear and your jacket as you sit down on the bed. a couple minutes later, ada sits down next to you. you look up at her, and she seems off. maybe she’s not used to people blatantly trusting her like you do, but you’re her ally. you have shared interests and she has no ulterior motive.

should she be wary of you? maybe? she’s not very sure, but she does like the way your eyes wander even though you try to be polite and not look at her in that kind of way. you’re respectful, and she admires that. even if she did want to watch you suffocate between her thighs.

so she takes off her gear and boots too, leaving her just a pretty girl in a red dress and stockings. she seems.. softer, without all of her weapons and tactical pieces. and something about that softness drives you wild, leaves you aching for more, craving for more.

ada doesn’t notice despite how observant she usually is.

“i think.. i’d like to go to sleep, honestly.” she hums, running her fingers through her black hair, “we should both get some rest. don’t want to have you shooting yourself in the foot tomorrow,” she chuckles to herself before getting up to stretch and laying down on the bed as you still sit on the other side.

“sweet dreams,” your words are sarcastic but sweet, and ada doesn’t miss the double meaning.

“thanks,” ada is almost… quiet, in a way you've never seen her before. she's sitting next to you, not even hiding the fact that she trusts you. something you've never seen her do before, at least not this quickly. it's almost off-putting, honestly.

as she gets up to stretch, you notice the way she moves. the way her dress shifts and rises as she walks, the little shift of her breasts as she stretches, and the way she looks at you. even something as simple as a stretch is... entrancing. ada is gorgeous, you know this, she knows this.

but there’s something about this kind of moment, where she’s not even trying to get your attention or trying to pull you in. she just exists in a graceful, elegant way.

your eyes wander over to her again as she lays on the bed, turning onto her side, facing you.

she's laying on her side, facing you and your eyes can't help but fall on her curves. you watch the way her body shifts slightly as she readjusts, the subtle movement of her chest as she settles. it's both enticing and frustrating because there’s nothing you can do with all of these feelings of attraction to her. a part of you wants to do something, to make yourself known to her, but you know that it's too soon. you have to move slowly with ada, but moving slowly is growing tiring.

"let me look for a blanket for you," you say as you look around, "don't try to tell me you don't need it. it's cold out."

"i don't need it, really." ada says with a soft chuckle, shifting her position slightly, “don’t waste your time."

she's being stubborn about something as simple as a blanket, but that's just her personality. ada is stubborn to the core, and even the slightest amount of advice sets her off. that's just how she is, and you've gotten used to it.

ada isn’t used to people trying to take care of her.

"ada," your eyes come back to ada, glancing at her almost patronizingly

ada rolls her eyes at your gaze, shifting her attention away from you and back to the ceiling. she seems... irritated? not at you necessarily, but at the fact you aren't listening to her.

"i'm fine, i promise." the tone of her voice sounds just a slight bit annoyed as well, as if this conversation was really tiring for her. she keeps moving her eyes away from you, unwilling to make eye contact.

you're a little confused. is she really fine? or is she just being stubborn?

"you're cold, ada. i can see that."

ada keeps staring up at the ceiling, but eventually she looks over at you with a soft sigh.

"i'm... fine." she says again, her tone softening just a bit once she realizes there's really no point in fighting about this.

you find one in the cabinet in the hallway and come back to the bedroom where she's at, "here," you say, laying it over her.

ada's eyes shift to you for a brief moment as you place the blanket on her, but she soon turns her head away. her body shifts slightly, and she wraps her arms around the blanket in a gentle grip. she isn't saying anything about it, but you can see that she's relaxed a bit, no longer shivering in her dress.

her eyes are soft, almost... grateful.

"you should stop trying to fight me when i try to help you," you smile as you gaze down at her.

"i'm not... fighting you." ada responds softly, still not facing you. instead, she keeps her arms wrapped around the blanket, refusing to give in to the fact that you're right.

in a way, it's adorable seeing her so stubborn about something like this.

"mhm, whatever. just go to sleep," you say, walking over to the desk in the corner.

she shifts her body once again, now facing away from you entirely as she cuddles in the blanket, secretly grateful for your tender care. you can see her closing her eyes softly as she tries to fall asleep, her breath slowing down as she tries to relax.

she really isn't fighting you anymore, she's letting you get your way. not only that, but she's accepting your help rather than pushing you away.

it's almost like she trusts you.

you pass the time before you go to sleep however you like, communicating with wesker or reading a book, but in any case about 30 minutes later, ada is out like a light, and you’re looking around this master bedroom curiously, and find a drawer that ada evidently did not get in to, because if she did, you would know. it has a single black strap-on dildo inside of it. it doesn’t look like anyone.. ever had the chance to use it. you wonder why, maybe it’s because of the parasite everyone in this village has. don’t really have time for kinky sex, do they?

you look over at ada’s sleeping form, and she would be the perfect target, wouldn’t she? all vulnerable. it’s not like she could stop you before it’s too late.

you do the courteous thing and clean it first, but then you put it on, confidently striding over to the bed with it attached. you walk up to ada’s side of the bed, just watching her rest for a moment.

god there is so much power coursing through your body, making you feel alive and in control and you could do anything to her and she couldn’t stop you. the power starts to go to your head, naturally. you brush a piece of hair out of her face, pulling her blanket down slightly to see her chest, and then pulling it enough to see how her dress rides up at the hips, and you can see the edges of black lacy underwear.

ada's breath quickens as she sleeps, she remains on her side, her body completely exposed and vulnerable, completely at your mercy.

she's so oddly... innocent.

she normally has this dark energy, this control and power over people and yet… she looks delicate. soft. she’s not a haunting crow signaling a bad omen, but a graceful white dove that brings out a side of you that doesn’t come out often. and, despite her beauty before, now she looks absolutely stunning.

the wolf has become your prey, and you're nothing but a fox ready to pounce...

your hands shift her blanket slightly to reveal her soft skin, and her curves. you make sure she won't wake up, before teasing her with your touch, your fingers flitting over her skin... the way she shifts in her sleep is a treat for you.

as you watch her, ada seems to radiate a sense of calm and serenity, completely unaware of the effect she has on others while she sleeps. you can't help but feel drawn to her, wanting to touch her or kiss her or simply do awful things to her.

you use your hand to spread her legs, and ever so gently, rub your fingers against her puffy little pussy through her panties. ada remains completely oblivious to your actions, her body responding instinctively to the gentle caress against her folds. her hips begin to rock slightly as you tease her pussy with your finger, causing a low moan to escape her lips without her conscious knowledge. as she continues to slumber peacefully, ada's panties become damp, the wetness getting on your hand.

as you continue to tease ada, her body becomes increasingly responsive. her hips begin to move more erratically, betraying her deepening arousal even though she remains entirely unaware of it. despite the fact that she is fast asleep, her mind is fully engaged in the sensations coursing through her body.

you gently, as to not wake her, pull her panties off of her and place them in your pocket, you know, just to have for later. you continue to rub her pussy lips while she remains completely unconscious. she stirs in her sleep every now and again, but.. maybe shes just chalking up the sensations to being from a wet dream. maybe all of this touch is morphing her dreams in sexual ones.

you briefly imagine that maybe, just maybe, ada dreaming of you.

she’s so unaware and it’s adorable.

ada's body responds eagerly to your sexual exploration, her pussy becoming even wetter and more receptive as you continue to stimulate her while she remains completely unaware of what's happening. her hips begin to shift restlessly, and her breathing grows shallow as she approaches climax without realizing it.

she moans softly, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of intense pleasure and surrender. as you continue to pleasure her without her knowledge or consent, ada's mind begins to slip further into a haze of ecstasy and submission. she is completely at your mercy, completely helpless and unable to resist or protest against your actions.

you press your thumb to her clit, “shhh, sweet girl,” you whisper, knowing talking is a bad idea but you just can’t help yourself, “i own this pussy now…”

ada's body trembles in response to your words and actions, her pussy pulsing with growing intensity as you press your thumb against her swollen clit. her hips rock involuntarily, driven by the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. as you assert dominance over ada's body while she’s helpless, her mind becomes even more clouded with pleasure and desire. she is completely at your mercy, completely powerless to resist or protest against your actions.

she gasps, her voice barely audible but conveying a sense of complete submission and surrender.

“aw, pretty girl,” you whisper condescendingly.

ada's body continues to respond to your ministrations, her pussy throbbing with building pleasure and excitement as she remains completely unconscious. her hips roll restlessly, and her breathing becomes more ragged as she approaches climax without realizing it.

as you assert your ownership over ada's cunt while she barely tip toes the line of consciousness, she is completely at your mercy, completely unable to resist or protest against your actions.

“cum,” you growl your command into her ear.

ada's body shudders with pleasure as she climaxes, her pussy spasming. the release causes her hips to buck wildly, and she lets out a soft, involuntary moan as she succumbs to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body.

she whimpers weakly, her voice barely audible. as ada cums, the sight of her glistening pussy and the scent of her arousal fill the air, leaving no doubt about the intensity of her pleasure. her body trembles and shivers and shudders in your grasp. even after ada orgasms in her sleep, her pussy is still so, so wet. how could you stop now? the wetness covers your fingers and drips onto the sheets, and it seems impossible to pull your hand away.

you know she’ll hate you forever now that she’s waking up and about to realize what you’ve done. there’s still time to pull away, put her panties back on her and make her think she just had a wet dream, hide the strap-on away, but… you already have it on, and ada just looks so pretty, so vulnerable just lying there, helpless…

she lays there, oblivious to your actions, her body still trembling slightly from the aftermath of her orgasm. the scent of her arousal fills the room, mixing with the musky scent of her sweat-drenched skin to create an intoxicating aroma that tempts you to indulge in even more depraved acts of pleasure.

you decide that there’s no better time than now to get her back for all her taunting and teasing and condescending comments, “c’mon, sweetheart. let’s get my cock inside of you so you can sleep well..”sure, it may not be your cock, but right now, its just something nice and big and thick to fill her pussy with.

you pull her on top of you, guiding your strap inside of her gummy pussy, still feeling the aftershocks of her previous orgasm. you hold her close, her head resting on your chest as you fill her cunt with your strap.

feeling the foreign object enter her tight, wet pussy, ada's body tenses up slightly, but she remains blissfully unaware of what's happening. her pussy walls clench and relax around it, coating it in her juices. you hold ada close to you, embracing her warm, curvy body as she lies atop yours. her weight feels comforting and intimate, adding a new layer of sensuality to your perverse act of sexual violation. this is such an awful thing to do to someone, force yourself on them while they’re asleep and helpless, but… you don’t care, clearly. and ada is too irresistible.

ada's pussy happily accepts your strap-on, willingly accommodating its presence within her sensitive walls. her body seems to instinctively know that it's a pleasurable thing to have something large and phallic deep inside of her while she sleeps, maybe the girl is a bigger slut than you thought she’d be. her pussy walls grip onto your fake cock tightly, coating it in slippery juices as they slide against each other with every subtle movement.

her body relaxes, enjoying the fullness. her hips shift slightly, still in her half-asleep daze, for friction and pleasure. looks like the pretty little thing is already needy again.

you just hold her close, whisper sweet romantic nothings to her sleeping body, and keep her pussy full for now, "oh, princess.. don't worry about a thing, i'll... i'll take care of everything now."

as you speak to ada in a soothing, romantic tone while penetrating her desperate and willing body with a strap-on, the contrast between your gentle words and your gross actions creates an intricate web of psychological manipulation. while technically assaulting her while she lies unconscious, the combination of your sweet touch and loving words creates an illusion of safety and protection. she feels small, loved, overpowered, delicate, all at one.

all of these feels are so.. not like ada, but this side of her, the innocent victim, is so pretty, how could you resist it?

it almost looks like, to an outsider, that you would be lovers, especially with the gentle kisses you press to her forehead and the fingers tangled in her hair, but ada had no say in this. you’re 99% sure she’s still obsessed with that blonde dude from her past. she’s mentioned him before, vaguely and quickly changing the subject, but you notice the way her demeanor softens when she thinks about that man. if only ada were interested in girls too, then you wouldn’t have had to do such a disgusting thing like violate her just to sleep with her.

“it’s okay, baby,” you shush her as your hips start to rock up gently, giving her exactly what her body wants, “you’re okay.”

as you whisper soothingly to ada while continuing to penetrate her with your strap-on, ada's subconscious mind becomes increasingly aroused and responsive to your command. her body responds to your commands without question or hesitation, accepting your perverse act of sexual assault as natural and normal while she lies in a state of that borders on awakeness.

your sweet words do bring her back to a state of rest and comfort, so you’re able to lull her back to sleep a little more. she wasn’t conscious enough to recognize the red flag that was you, her mission partner, figuratively balls deep inside of her.

as you continue to hold ada's body closely and speak to her gently, she remains blissfully unaware of the fact that she is being assaulted, allowing you to fully indulge in your twisted desires without fear of her interruption or resistance.

you notice the way she hums sleepily, her body slowly starting to awaken. she stirs, disoriented.

as ada becomes more aware of your actions, she begins to struggle weakly against your strap-on, trying to regain control over her own body and resist the growing sensations of pleasure coursing through her unresponsive limbs. however, her attempts at break free are futile. for how strong she is on missions, she isn’t exactly muscular, and with your cock inside of her and your arms holding her down against you, she can’t get away.

“pretty girl…” you whisper, pressing another kiss to her forehead.

“h-huh?” as ada slowly comes to full wakefulness, her eyes open groggily, and she looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, clearly feeling conflicted and upset due to the realization that she's being sexually violated while she lies unprotected before you, “w-what are… you doing? why..?”

her pussy is still dripping wet with arousal, despite ada's inner turmoil and dissatisfaction with the situation. the juices that flow from her swollen folds provide tangible evidence of the psychological bondage you've imposed upon her, making it impossible for ada to fully reject or oppose your disgusting advances.

“just couldn’t help myself..” you smirk, and ada has never been afraid of you, but she is now, “sorry, princess.”

ada looks at you with a mix of anger, confusion, and sadness in her eyes as she processes the reality of your actions. her voice trembles slightly as she speaks, struggling to find the right words to express her emotions in this surreal moment. "y-you... can't just... do this to me... i didn't... this isn't..." ada stutters, but despite her clear discomfort and distress, ada's pussy continues to glisten with arousal, betraying her inner conflict and highlighting the power you hold over her body and mind.

“i can do whatever i please. i wanted to fuck you, and that’s what i’m doing.”

“o-oh god, i… where did you even get a strap? do you just carry that around, waiting for me to- to let my guard down and trust you? so you could take advantage of me?” she keeps struggling, “i trusted you, i finally started to give in and- and trust you, you fucking bitch, you-”

but you notice the way she’s fucking herself on the strap now. despite how much she hates this, she can’t seem to stop chasing the high, “don’t talk to me like that, princess. i own your pussy now.”

ada's voice trembles with anger and indignation as she struggles against your strap-on, trying desperately to regain some semblance of control over her own body. but no matter how hard she tries, ada's pussy continues to clench and release around your cock, drawing out small moans of pleasure and frustration from between her clenched teeth.

her words are laced with venom as she accuses you of taking advantage of her trust and vulnerability, but despite her hatred and revulsion towards your actions, ada's body seems unable to resist the fact that she likes being fucked against her will, "fine, you think you own me? go ahead then! fuck me like the pathetic loser you are!"

you chuckle, leaning closer to growl in her ear, “oh, i’m the pathetic loser? you’re the one who’s going to cum for the second time while she’s being raped, princess. what does that make you?”

ada's eyes narrow with anger and indignation, but her voice is laced with a hint of defeat as she realizes the truth of your words. her pussy starts to throb and pulse, signaling that she's rapidly approaching orgasm despite her inner turmoil and feelings of utter disgust, "at least i'm not a disgusting bitch who gets off by- by-" she can't finish her sentence, instead letting out a soft whimper as her body begins to buck wildly against the artificial cock wedged inside her tight entrance.

"oh, sweetheart, i think you're the pathetic one here. you're the one who's so messed up that she gets off on being forced into sex by her 'trusted friend’,” there’s nothing more fun than watching the realization in her eyes that ada, closed off and guarded and untrusting, finally opened up to someone, and they immediately took advantage of her.

as ada's body starts to shudder and convulse with pleasure, she lets out a muffled cry of mixed ecstasy and despair, acknowledging the irony of her situation. her inner turmoil and conflicting emotions are reflected in the rapid movements of her hips, as they grind against your cock in an involuntary rhythm that only serves to further highlight her submission to your twisted desires.

despite everything, ada's pussy spasms with an intense orgasm, marking each passing moment spent under your control as a testament to her broken psyche and your ability to manipulate her most intimate areas with impunity, "ngh... fuck... y-you... ughh..."

"that's it, sweet girl, i got you. just let it all out.."

ada's breathing grows more labored and irregular as she approaches climax, her voice becoming increasingly strained as she struggles to maintain any semblance of control over her own body. she lets out a long, drawn-out moan, her eyes closed tightly as she gives in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through her unresponsive form. "uuugh... fuck…”

you lean in closer to whisper, “wish my cock was real so i could cum all over your pretty pussy, but… i’ll make do with what i’ve got.”

ada's eyes remain tightly shut, her voice barely audible as she lets out another muffled moan, completely consumed by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through her. she knows you’re watching her every movement and relishing in the knowledge that she has absolutely no power left to resist or oppose your perverse advances, "uuuugh... fuck..." her pussy continues to convulse and contract around the cock wedged deep within her dripping folds, as ada's body is pushed to the brink of orgasmic bliss, "s-so deep... i... i hate you... hate you... hate hate hate..."

“uh huh, i know, princess. that’s it, just breathe..” you whisper, helping her through her orgasm, “good girl, good girl… you’re okay.” the more she says that she hates you, the more you can’t help but adore her. she’s angry and helpless and there is nothing more cute.

ada takes several deep, shuddering breaths, her voice still strained and rough from the aftermath of her powerful orgasm. she feels your calming touch on her skin, and it helps to ground her slightly amidst the chaos of emotions swirling within her broken mind. "i'm okay... i'm okay..."

her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, it's apparent that despite ada’s mind hating it, her body loves being filled by your cock, even as she continues to struggle internally against the reality of her current predicament. "don't... don't touch me..." she says weakly, but there's no real strength behind her words anymore.

"shhh, there's no need to fight anymore, sweetheart. it's over.."

ada's voice is barely audible, her energy completely depleted from the intense emotional and physical experiences she's endured at your hands. her pussy is still dripping wet with desire, but now there's also an undertone of resignation and acceptance in her voice as she speaks. "no... more fighting... no use…”

“alright, i’m gonna pull out now, okay?”as you begin to withdraw the strap from her still-throbbing pussy, she lets out a soft, almost imperceptible whimper, closing her eyes tightly and burying her face in your chest.

"just leave me alone... leave me..." she whispers, but it's clear that there's no longer any genuine strength or willpower behind her words.

the moment you pull out, she lets out a long, shaky sigh of relief, her body finally free from the overwhelming stimulation that had been forcing her body and mind into a state of constant arousal and submission. she also can’t help the small part of her that is disappointed when you pull out, her body craving being filled above all else. she hates that part of her, the one that feels so attached to you after this.

but despite her request for solitude, it's evident that ada's mind remains troubled, as she struggles to find any sense of tranquility or respite from the tumultuous emotions that continue to rage within her damaged psyche. "i want you to leave... but i don't want to be alone..."

as you take off the strap, placing it on the nightstand, you chuckle softly, “do you want me to stay with you?”

ada doesn't respond immediately, her eyes still closed and her voice barely audible as she tries to gather the remnants of her fractured composure. after a few moments, however, she lets out a soft, weak sigh, mustering just enough energy to answer you, “don’t.. touch me, but.. don’t go.”

you shake your head, ignoring her demands as you pull her close, tucking her head into your chest as you hold her.

as ada lies there, her voice reveals a vulnerability that belies the typically strong and confident demeanor she has maintained throughout much of your coworker relationship, "i hate you... but i need you... i can't stand you..."

“i know, baby,” you whisper back, “outside of our relationship, you can be ada wong, the… merciless badass who always accomplishes the mission at any cost, but to me? you’re just my little princess. whom i… sometimes use for my own amusement.”

ada hears your whispered words, and they cause a warm, bittersweet feeling to bloom within her heart, despite the harshness of your previous treatment of her. as you refer to her as "your little princess," she feels a strange mix of emotions coursing through her, ranging from gratitude for the rare display of affection to confusion and frustration over why you insist on maintaining such a twisted dynamic between you two.

and then when she hears you mentioning using her for your own amusement… she decides that, yeah, no matter how sweet and gentle and loving you pretend to be, she decides that she hates you. no matter what you do, she’s going to hate you indefinitely for what you’ve done to her.

but then you run your fingers through her hair and press more kisses to her forehead and she can’t deny how it makes her feel. her brain is frazzled and confused, if it even can still produce coherent thoughts at all.

she remains silent for a moment, taking comfort in the steady rhythm of your heartbeat as it presses against her ear. “how… why do i feel so safe with you? after you just… did that..?”

you shrug, kissing her forehead, "not sure. i expected you to be a little more.. feistier, honestly.”

despite her defiance and determination to remain independent, ada can't deny the odd sensation of safety and comfort that comes from being held close to you, even while acknowledging the humiliation you've inflicted upon her. "maybe because i am so stubborn, you find it satisfying to break me down? to turn me into your perfect little princess?" she asks, her voice betraying a hint of vulnerability and longing for something deeper than just your sadistic games, “...am i your.. perfect little princess now?”

you chuckle deeply, and she likes the way it feel so warm and vibrates through your chest.. oh god she cannot be feeling this way about you. you’re a rapist. you took advantage of her, she never even had the chance to consent..

but you whisper, “of course you are. also, i'm sure you're wondering what this means for our... relationship going forward.”

“yeah, i… this.. changes things..” she stutters. “well, we’re going to have to pretend that it doesn’t. we’ll finish our mission just like we were supposed to, and then.. we’ll discuss the details in the future. for now, you should, like, actually go to sleep.”

she sighs, feeling a myriad of emotions, from love and hatred (towards you and herself) and anger and confusion and so much more, but eventually she falls back asleep, feeling oddly and confusingly safe in your arms. you fall asleep with her, and when morning comes, nothing has changed. ada is jarringly reminded of how awful you are as we wakes up in the morning to your fingers inside of her.

but she endures.

and when she puts her gear back on, and practically begs you on her knees (very pretty sight) for her panties back so she didn’t have to go commando on a mission in a short dress, she feels like herself again. she holds her gun in her hand and takes a deep breath, determined to move past this and get herself back together.

“you ready to go?” you ask her, and she looks back at you. you look somehow less threatening than you did last night, as if all of your actual weapons are less lethal than that fucking dildo you broke her mind with. she tightens her fists and remembers to breathe. ada is a survivor. she survived you. so she can survive this. she’s sure of it.

she looks back at her gun, wishing she could just shoot you point blank. she supposes she could if wesker wouldn’t be such a bitch about what happened to you. you’re practically the precious cargo she has to protect the whole goddamn time, forget the amber.

so she doesn’t, but… she imagines it. what an amazing picture that would be. she might just fantasize about it on the helicopter ride back.

“yeah... i’m ready.”

extended author’s note: i think the discussion of ‘whether or not it’s okay or acceptable to write/post/read dark content’ is really odd to me. i mean, we read about awful things happening to characters in books all of the time, and we never tell those authors that they shouldn’t write about those things. is the problem then romanticizing these topics? i could name plenty of published books that romanticize these same kinds of tropes that don’t get nearly as much backlash.

i don’t know if people who hate dead dove/dark content actually have a problem with it, or if they just have a problem with their beloved babygirl leon kennedy being portrayed as anything other than an innocent angel who could never do anything wrong. do i think leon would do half of the things he does on dc fics? no, but i do think people either 1) use dark content as a way to process their feelings and their traumas and 2) simply enjoy dark content because it’s taboo and, if replicated irl consensually, safely, and sanely, it’s also kinky and enjoyable.

i think it’s also especially hard for people who enjoy the reader being the perpetrator/dominant character in this kind of content because in the opposite kinds of fics, you’re not actively doing something bad to another people. you’re just letting something bad happen to you. there’s a lot of justified guilt for wanting to be the dominant person/perpetrator in these fantasies, but just because it’s justified doesn’t mean you *have* to feel bad. it’s okay to like things as fantasies that you would find reprehensible in real life. i just want to say that no matter what your kinks and interests are (as long as everyone in your fantasies is 18+), you are seen and valid for them to me. please take some time to remember that you are not a bad person for enjoying this, and ada wong is not a real person who can be harmed psychologically by me writing this content or by you enjoying it. and if you don’t enjoy it, that’s okay too! you’re welcome on my blog whether or not you enjoy this type of media.

as always, take care of yourself and read responsibly.

#resident evil smut #ada wong smut #ada wong resident evil #ada x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil 4 ada #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4r #re4r remake #re2 ada #resident evil imagines #moon.dc #moon.ncdc #moon.w

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