#The Best Spot <33< /div>
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The 141, except it's a Tattoo and Piercing studio, owned and ran by John Price. He bought the shop when he was 20, taking the dilapidated building from an eyesore, to one of the most reputable and famous tattoo parlours in the UK.
His team is small, but curated by John himself, and he prides himself on the talent he's secured over the nearly 20 years he's owned his shop. People don't just flock to the 141 for his longstanding passion and expertise in tattooing, nor for his flawless execution of designing perfect thought out sleeves. They come for his team, too.
There's his longest working, and most popular artist, Ghost. Known for his mysterious appearance and personality just as much as his work. A master of both the new school tattoo style, and more modern takes on needlework, he'll tirelessly work to make sure every piece of work he tattoos is unique. His art focuses more on the macabre, often showcasing the weird and the wonderful on his socials, when he does eventually post.
Johnny "Soap" Mactavish got his name because of his clean lines and flawless technique, a master of fine line and delicate tattoos, not that his appearance gives that away. Covered in both ink and piercings, topped off with an electric blue mohawk, he's a sight to behold, but don't let his looks distract you from his sheer talent. He's known for being the most energetic artist in the 141, more than happy to chin wag with his clients for the full duration of their tattoo. Yet despite talking non-stop, his work remains entirely flawless.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick started out as Price's apprentice, struggling through college and debilitating art block when Price found his art displayed at his university's gallery. John took him under his wing, and with his help, he mastered the art of hyper-realistic tattoos. Some of his clients travel across the globe just to get his work on their skin, trusting no one but him to give them the perfect tattoo.
Farah Karim is the most recent addition, but a valuable one at that. Specialising in mandala, and geometric designs, Farah creates works of art that border on spiritual. She prides herself on her precision needle work, and steady hand, known for more often than not free-handing her tattoos with no stencil. Her dot shading and line work is pixel perfect, and she'll stand for nothing less than the very best for each and every one of her clients.
Gary "Roach" Sanderson is the studio's resident piercer. He might be quiet, but he has a long list of loyal customers who come to him, and only him to get pierced. He makes his own jewellery, spending hours fashioning unique and gorgeous designs out of titanium and gems. No one creates jewellery like him, meaning his books are full years to come.
Between them all, they create a studio full to the brim with creative ideas and inspiration, never running dry of the passion they hold for the work they do. Which is a good thing, considering their list of clientele only continues to skyrocket higher and higher.
#☁︎⋅writing#i love tattoo aus#and i got thinking about if they were all artists rather than in the military and i just <333#fell in love#they'd all be so professional and incredible at their jobs#would make sure you didn't leave with anything you weren't 100% obsessed with#they'll take all the time you need to find the perfect design#the best spot#the right size#them <33#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#simon riley#johnny mactavish#soap mctavish#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price#john price#soap mw2#price mw2#farah cod#farah karim#farah mw2#kyle gaz garrick#gaz mw2#kyle garrick#gary sanderson#gary roach sanderson#roach mw2#tattoo au
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moved into my college dorm yesterday and im so scared i havent made any friends yet and it seems like everyone else already knows ppl :[ im gonna like do it scared and keep trying to be outgoing but oh god this is so difficult
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#it's hard!!! let's not forget that it's hard!!!#if its any consolation i can say with reasonable certainty that there r so so many ppl on campus who feel as scared + lonely + lost as you!#ur people are out there waiting to pick you up i pinkie promise :]#and if ur feeling brave let us not understate the magic of joining clubs + frequenting different spots >:] best of luck <33 !!!
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finished s4 of haikyuu >:33
#(INCOHERENT SCREAMING)#inarizaki won a spot in my heart….. they’re sooo endearing it’s crazy !!#kita & aran my beloveds <33 i love atsumu a lot too tho!! T—T and suna’s cute… the team dynamic is so charming#BUT WAHHHH soooo many amazing moments this season that final battle had my heart RACING#THE FINAL KAGEHINA BLOCKKKK I SCREAMED#hinata’s receives…. i’m so proud of him T—T#ANYWAYS I AM NOW CAUGHT UP <33 i am bundling my faves up in a big blanket… putting them in my pocket…. they’re soo special to me#also love how oikawa will pop in once every season JUST to be a hater <333 best boy fr#ari noises ✩
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like do we NEED a doctor in the cathedral. depends on how much medical training you think the sisters at the church besides like. just barbara. have. but no i still think we need a doctor doctor to support the deaconess. and the sisters are like nurses. anyway the actual doctor is asa's poor father who went on the expediction with varka and is not returning alive because i need to kill him for plot reasons. but anyway asa is the one currently in charge of the church healthcare in mondstadt. like how jean is the acting grandmaster. except as ive said that temporary job is about to become very permanent. sorry for your loss king. i need to come up with character stories for asa btw!!! particulary re: his vision. its anemo btw. hes barbatos' n1 fan (used to be a sister even before realizing he was a man) anyway yeah writing in genshin character story style is pretty fun lol i need to do it sometime. where am i going w this. nowhere im just having oc brainrot again
#asa<33#best anemo catalyst healer in game. his alternate sprint passive talent i just made up on the spot is sooo cool#oc talk
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☆ warnings: mdni, this is literally just a cock analysis for sylus, zayne, and caleb
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☆ a/n: SYLUS HOLD MY HAND—CALEB IS ABOUT TO DRAG ME AWAY!
rafayel and xavier ver.
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S8GSBTV - #b0685a
As we all know, Sylus is tall, with a broad, muscular frame and an imposing set of shoulders. He’s strong—insanely strong. The man boxes, for god’s sake. I would hate to take a liver shot from him; he might accidentally send me straight to the afterlife. He’s in phenomenal shape, with stamina to match—because, of course, it’s a requirement for his sport.
And his cock? Well, it follows suit. A solid eight inches (20.32 cm), and yes, he’s a shower. I mean, have you seen that perfect print in his pants??? He doesn’t even know where to put all that. It’s big—long, thick, girthy. No wonder he has a size kink. And let’s be real, so do you. The stretch is delicious, always leaving you working to take him all the way.
The head? A deep, rich brown (go look at the hex code <3). His pubic hair? Trimmed, but left a little longer—just how he likes it. And side note? He loves when you do the same. Says he wants to "explore the jungle." Oh, and let’s not forget: it’s straight and a slightly darker gray than his hair. Perfection.
And the veins—the veins. His cock is thick with them, pulsing, prominent. The most sensitive part? That sweet little slit. Run your tongue along it, and he will hiss, grip your hair, and growl something like, “Don’t do that unless you want me to come in your mouth, kitten.”
And, of course, you’ll keep doing it anyway. Hehehe.
Z7LSLCGBPLT - #9C524F
As we all know, Zayne is tall, with a lean yet well-built frame and broad shoulders. He’s strong—moderately muscular—but more refined in his strength. Being a doctor, he has a natural responsibility to stay in shape and take excellent care of himself.
And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven point three inches (18.542 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might be deceiving at first, but don’t be fooled—it’s big. Not just long, but with an ideal girth. The best part? It leans slightly to the left, and when he’s inside you, he knows how to move his hips just right, angling to hit that perfect, sensitive spot.
The head? A beautiful brownish pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low—because he understands the importance of keeping some. He’ll never go completely bare, and honestly? He prefers when you don’t either. And yes, it’s perfectly straight.
Unlike some, his cock isn’t overly veined—but what it lacks in texture, it more than makes up for in sensitivity. The head? Insanely responsive. Pull back his foreskin, drag your tongue along his frenulum, and just like that, he might lose control—maybe even come all over your face.
C7GGPTV - #DF9796
As we all know, Caleb is tall, with a lean yet powerfully built frame. He’s easily the most muscular of the bunch—his body honed to perfection. Being a fighter pilot demands peak physical fitness, not just for endurance but for absolute control in the cockpit.
And his cock? It follows suit. A solid seven inches (17.78 cm), and he’s a grower. The print in his pants might not always give it away, but trust—it’s big. Long, with just a bit more girth than average, making every inch of it something to savor.
The head? A gorgeous pink. His pubic hair? Trimmed low for convenience, though he’ll go completely bare if that’s what you prefer. Naturally, though, he keeps it neat, with a slight, loose curl to it.
And let’s talk about that vein. A single, prominent one that runs up the length of his pretty shaft—one he loves when you trace with your tongue. Oh, and let’s be clear—he’s uncut. Don’t care, won’t argue on that point <33
☆
btw this is what the codes mean (excuse my behavior because now that I actually typed it out i realize how crazy i look rn):
S8GSBTV: sylus-8inch-girthy-shower-brown-trimed-veiny
Z7LSLCGBPLT: zayne-7inch-left slant-long cock-grower-brownish pink-light trim
C7GGPTV: caleb-7inch-grithy-grower-pink-trimed-veiny
#this is how i know im ovulating because i wrote this when i was supposed to be studying#excuse my behavior because now that I actually typed it out i realize how crazy i look rn#i literally apologize in advance#yes i put hex codes....#sylus#lads sylus#lnds sylus#lad sylus#l&ds sylus#love and deepspace sylus#zayne#zayne love and deepspace#lads zayne#lnds zayne#l&ds zayne#caleb lads#lads caleb#love and deepspace caleb#lnds caleb#caleb lnds#caleb love and deepspace#caleb#lnds smut#lads smut#l&ds smut#love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#sylus smut#zayne smut#caleb smut
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TRUE LOVE ⋆ 정국
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when you and jeon jeongguk's paths cross again, you question if having a crush on the school's emo and alternative boy was really just a phase, or if it was true love after all.
⋆⁺₊❅. 5/6 from christmas & chill
pairing tattoo artist!jk x fem reader
genre fluff, smut, grumpy & sunshine, somewhat f2l
warnings jk 24 | oc 24, jk thinks he’s too cool for love, oc suffers from a chronic case of “i can fix him”, she eventually does, oc simps HARDDD and jk only pretends to be unaffected, yea he’s a bit of a dick sometimes but he’s also Very funny, brief description of panic attacks, male masturbation, kissing, idk what else to add i just rly rly love them and will think of them for the entirety of xmas season
word count 10.2k
author’s note hi lovies 🩷 it’s my last time with c&c 🙁 i’m kinda emotional omg… it’s been such a fun, warm and lovely week, and i love each one of you for showing endless support to this project <33 i’ll keep trying to not disappoint… please tell me if you like this!!! thank u always and always 🩷 luv u <3
banner by the gorgeous @awrkive ⊹₊⟡⋆
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On the first day of December, your path crosses with thee Jeon Jeongguk’s after enough years for your brain to trip slightly before recognising him. But it would have been impossible not to—there’s likely a whole, well-preserved section of your thinking organ dedicated to that mortifying phase of high school, when your hormones turned life into an endless internal tug-of-war.
The moment your eyes widen at having him stand in front of you, you’re yanked unceremoniously into the past, brought back to buried, locked and left to gather dust feelings that have your teenage self’s screams echoing within you in a chorus of delight and cringe.
Jeongguk, on the other hand, is simply following his duties as a tattoo artist. When he catches sight of you next to his appointed client on such a breezy day, the cold December air starting to find its space even in the confines of his studio, he only nods his chin upward at you in slow recognition.
It’s awkward, at first. Only because you make it.
You’d volunteered to accompany Eunbi, your best friend, to get her first tattoo as an early Christmas self-gift. Your mission was clear: support her, hold her hand if the pain became unbearable (though you’re probably the least dependable person when it comes to making clarity in situations of panic, as seen right now), and be the first to bask in her excitement as she finally sees what she’s always pictured to be inked on the skin of her forearm. A blue whale tattoo, large enough to make you wince just thinking about the needlework.
You’d never go through something like that. Never.
And that’s exactly what’s showing on your face when you’re met with Jeongguk’s full sleeve of tattoos, leaving you rooted to the spot.
You’d always known him to be the different kid, the quiet one with forced sharp eyes that canonically listened to alternative rock and glared at anyone who dared approach, whether to tease him or befriend him. He’d convinced himself that no one could ever understand him.
See, you’d instead fooled yourself into thinking you were the exception. That you did understand him.
Fourteen-year-old you had gone through some weird phases, and the one that resurfaces now at the vision of his adult self is the one centered entirely around him. You unashamedly had the biggest crush on Jeongguk. To you, he was mysterious and edgy—in an effortlessly cool way.
You’d tried everything. Offered him your lunch more times than you were left with any for yourself. Even cut your bangs to have them fall over your eyes to mimic his fringe, dyed a strand in blue, overhauled your wardrobe to align with his back-and-grey one. None of it worked. He never noticed.
But, thinking of it now, there’s no way he didn't. He definitely did. How could any boy turn a blind eye to a lovesick girl’s heartfelt Valentine’s letter, a hopeless romantic girl who almost cried on the spot when she got rejected? Jeongguk just chose to willingly ignore it.
These are all valid reasons as to why your functions seem to slow down in his unexpected presence. And you’re not going to deny nor fake that his calm, almost detached demeanor doesn’t flow through your body and right to your left eye, making it twitch with a slight tremor.
Yet, you must also admit that your teenage self was onto something. Jeongguk has changed drastically but he’s also stayed the same. You think fourteen-year-old him would be proud of where he is right now. Two piercings on his lower lip and one on his eyebrow, intricate ink tracing up his muscled arm, his… muscled arms. Wow. And then, his studio. His own studio, a place for him and his passion, one that he made into his job. That’s undeniably cool.
Maybe just not cool enough for you to be gaping like an idiot as he moves with purpose, adjusting your friend’s arm to position the stencil he had prepared, perfectly fitting in the space she had chosen. His muscles flex with every shift, and it’s impossible for you to go past that with the way the black beater he’s wearing is loose on his torso, but still clinging on his chest.
Eunbi notices, of course. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed and in return she doesn’t even try to hide her amusement when your usual chatter dries up entirely, only gulping obnoxiously noisily and alternating that with nervous silences. Jeongguk, too, catches on.
He’d always known you as obnoxious and noisy. In, huh, a good way. Or whatever.
Jeongguk just agrees that you were (and probably still are, if the pastel yellow skirt softly flowing down your legs paired with a cozy cream sweater and the full toothed grin you shoot at your friend are any indicators) the pinpoint embodiment of his opposite. You’ve always been talkative, smiley, and friendly, eager to help and to receive help, not in the slightest ever turning down the opportunity to blabber on, and on, and on.
Honestly, Jeongguk doesn’t think he ever truly listened to a single word of your rambling back in the day, especially during those times when you’d bounce up to him and launch into enthusiastic rants about obscure alternative bands he himself hadn’t even heard of. He respected the hustle, though. He’d always wondered where you found the time and energy to immerse yourself in music like that.
He much preferred when you were less trying so hard to be him and mirror his tastes, more when you gave up on impressing him and simply stayed true to yourself, the girl whose heart belonged to Justin Bieber and One Direction. Truthfully, he fucked with them. Not that he’d ever admit it, of course. His quiet, brooding image wouldn’t survive that revelation.
What he respected the most was your resilience. After all the times he rejected you and your awkward blurts of confessions, you still didn’t think it was enough of a reason for your villain origin story to take off, and instead remained the same frustratingly positive ray of sunshine you’d always been.
Now, as Jeongguk works on the tattoo in front of him, the very design that caused all these long-buried memories to rise back, his dark eyes flick toward you sitting on a stool in a near corner every now and then, a hint of confusion in his expression each time you take more than five seconds to reply to his small talk.
It’s just, you’re a bit taken aback. Since when does he do small talk? The foreign smoothness with which Jeongguk handles interactions is so far removed from the sullen boy you used to know. You’re not prepared for this version of him. It’s disarming, to say the least.
Enough time has passed for you to settle into the odd scenario, your current best friend and your long-standing high school crush in the same room. Slowly but surely, your curiosity sparkles again, and the signature tendency to let thoughts tumble out of your mouth unchecked returns to you naturally.
“Ouch, that looks painful.”
Jeongguk snorts, eyes trained on Eunbi’s arm as he glides the tattoo needle with precise strokes that have his brows pinching and the tip of his tongue peeking out from the corner of his lips, a habit you remember from the past but one you’ve never found quite so distracting before.
Still, he multitasks and responds without missing a beat, “Wanna try?”
Wow. This is, like, the longest conversation you’ve ever had with him. It spurs you on to do anything it takes to hear more of his voice, the sound of it definitely deeper than the shy tones you struggled to coax out of him ten years ago.
That is probably why you literally lie, “Hm. Maybe. I was thinking of getting one actually. In the future.”
Eunbi chokes on her spit, her chest coughing with the sudden, blatantly fake revelation, and Jeongguk promptly pauses, lifting the needle from her skin as his tattooist reflexes kick in. While your friend apologizes between a clearing of her throat and sinks back into the chair, she doesn’t keep from glaring at you, her expression screaming What the hell are you doing?
You deadpan. You’ll explain everything later and it’ll all make sense. And you know this will inevitably end up being added to the list of the many embarrassing facts she knows about you and threatens you with when she wants to go clubbing and you don’t.
Jeongguk uses the brief interruption to glance up at where you’re perched in the corner of his peripheral vision, just to square you up and down with a skeptical arch of his brow, “Really?”
You scoff, smoothing out the creases on your skirt as if the fabric is somehow responsible for the lie you just told, “Is that shocking?”
He hums, returning to his work with the buzz of the needle filling the studio again, his voice padded the more he gets closer to Eunbi’s forearm, “I just find it hard to believe such a princess like you could handle any pain.”
You gulp.
What you’re getting from this conversation is that Jeongguk has always had an idea of who you are in his mind all along. That he’s always perceived you in some way. As much as your inner fourteen-year-old is swooning at the attention, gobbling up each of the tiny crumbles he’s giving you, it doesn’t sit right with you. What exactly does he think of you?
“Test me.”
He shrugs, eyes fixated on the shade he’s perfectioning with black ink, “Busy now.”
“I’ll go pay for mine. I saw you have one last free spot today,” you announce, the words tumbling out with more confidence than you feel. You’re already on your feet before the sentence is fully formed, betraying the fact that your nosy tendencies had gotten the better of you earlier. You’d discreetly glanced at his appointment book when Jeongguk and Eunbi were finalizing her tattoo details and negotiating the final price at the desk.
He hums, head tilting slightly, “And I wanted to spend it bumming around.”
“Too bad. You’ll have to postpone that.”
You walked into this studio swearing you’d never let a needle even brush you.
Now you’re stretched out on a leather bench, Jeongguk leaning over you with a stencil in hand, gloved fingers moving with careful precision.
The design you’d chosen came from his portfolio—a delicate illustration of two butterflies in motion, their soft threads intertwining. You’d flipped through countless pages of bold skulls and intricate linework before settling on this.
The spot you’d chosen for the tattoo was the flat, firm plane between your breasts. It wasn’t a conscious decision, just a place you’d always liked. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that nature hadn’t exactly blessed you in the cleavage department. Subconsciously, perhaps, you thought that adding something there might give the illusion of more.
“Tehe,” you can’t stop the breathy giggle that escapes as the cool paper brushes against your skin. Your hand is pressed to your bra, holding it in place as best you can, though the situation feels so surreal it’s hard to focus on anything but the ridiculousness of it all.
Jeongguk glances up at you with a glare that’s more exasperated than angry before returning to the delicate task at hand, “What’s funny?”
Your voice wobbles, “I just— I tend to laugh during serious moments.”
“Oh. Weird.”
“Sorry.”
With a small sigh, he smooths the stencil, and once it’s transferred he hands you a square mirror, waiting for your approval. You nod, the butterflies now perfectly poised in their eternal dance, and Jeongguk doesn’t waste a moment.
The buzz of the needle fills the room as he leans closer, one gloved hand resting on the upper part of your chest to steady himself. He’s mere seconds from beginning the inking process when another laugh bubbles out of you.
Jeongguk sits back abruptly, dropping his pen onto the metal tray with an audible clink. Tilting his head, he levels you with a look of thinly veiled irritation. “I really can’t work if your chest keeps moving.”
“Sorry,” you blurt again, turning your head to face the wall. You clamp your lips together tightly, mentally scrolling through every sad memory you can conjure. Think of something awful. Your childhood dog dying. Okay, maybe not that sad—
“You haven’t changed a bit since high school. Always smiling like you live surrounded by flowers and rainbows,” Jeongguk’s mutter vibrates against your chest, warm breath fanning over the cold skin, distracting you from your no-giggling mission.
The unexpected observation has your brows furrowing in a mildly offended frown, and banter is ready on your tongue. “You’re just the same too, Gguk. The emo boy who thinks he’s too cool for a smile.”
“I’m not an emo boy. The fuck,” he scoffs, kissing his teeth and murmuring more of his indignation under his breath.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night. I can teach you.”
The whirring needle glides across your skin with a slightly firmer touch, making you hiss softly under your breath. He seems unbothered by the reaction, and instead bothered by your words, “Teach me what.”
“How to smile a bit more,” you reply, your voice laced with mockery as you keep your gaze firmly fixed on the wall. The smirk playing on your lips is triumphant; he walked right into your little jab, hehe.
Your mind is already racing, piecing together the beginning of a sarcastic rant about how his perpetual scowl probably contributed to his mysterious high school persona. For the sake of his ego, you won’t add how it worked in his favor, how more than one girl (your own self) found his untouchable vibe completely irresistible.
Even though, thinking back, he looked ridiculous. His big, round, slightly scared-of-the-world eyes truly didn’t belong with the heavy black eyeliner.
But before you can get a single word out, Jeongguk straightens his posture, pulling away from your chest. With a practiced motion, he tosses one of his gloves onto the counter behind him, his expression cool and indifferent. “It’s done.”
“Done?!” you exclaim, tilting your chin down to look at your chest. You go slightly cross-eyed trying to catch a glimpse of the design now inked onto your skin. Forever.
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even feel it.”
Jeongguk seems equally done with small talk, transitioning into a professional explanation of the tattoo’s aftercare step. His tone is calm but clipped, and you can’t tell if it’s his usual demeanor or just reserved for you. He also hands you a small tube of cream of which you’re not sure the use of, too enthralled by the vision of his colored sleeve this up close.
And still laying on the leather bed, you almost reach to trace one of the many lines with your finger before he interrupts, “You can pay with Yoongi at the entrance.”
Clearing your throat, you sit up, brushing imaginary dust off your skirt as Jeongguk turns his back to you, his focus already back on cleaning his tools. You still are not over, “Thank you, Jeongguk. Can I— huh. Can I get your number?”
He pauses mid-motion, just long enough for the silence to stretch thin and taut. Turning around to study your features, he stares you up and down with knitted brows and a hostile kind of confusion painting his expression. “… For what exactly?”
“In case anything happens with the tattoo.”
Jeongguk stills for a second, eyes narrowing slightly, then turns back to what’s keeping him so occupied with a noncommittal grunt, “Huh. Sure. Yoongi has my business cards at the desk. You can ask him. Have a good day.”
With Eunbi practically dragging you out of the room, you don’t have the chance to say anything more, though your chest burns with indignation. It’s not that you expect him to fall over himself at the chance to catch up, but the sheer indifference is maddening.
Should you pretend you don’t care either? You could. But really, who are you fooling? You still have those old diaries buried somewhere in your closet, their pages crammed with his name written in looping, lovesick cursive. That little girl in you never truly died.
On the fourth day of December, you finally text him. It’s about your tattoo, of course. There’s not much else to say to him, but when his only reply to your picture of the healing process is a yellow thumbs up, you find your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Words start forming before you’ve fully processed them, and before you know it, you hit send.
You [3:39 p.m]: btw u still friends with kim tae?
jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: Yes
jeongguk [3:42 p.m.]: He’s my best friend
You [3:43 p.m.]: ohhh, cool
jeongguk [3:45 p.m.]: You want his number?
You [3:46 p.m.]: no… i’m good with yours ☺️
You can’t help but giggle at how his typing bubbles appear and then fade for a whole minute, biting your lower lip with a sheepish grin, savoring the silent victory. You’re doing this for your fourteen-year-old self, who would’ve squealed at the thought of making Jeon Jeongguk flustered. But you’re a different girl now. You’ve changed. No man could ever reject—
jeongguk [3:48 p.m.]: If there’s nothing else about the tattoo then 👋
“Hmph,” your frown is so pronounced that you feel your chin aching and your wrinkles prematurely deepening. Well, this is not the first time you come face first with his sour antics. Only now, you’re prepared.
You [3:48 p.m.]: yall hanging out soon? let me join
jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: Why lol
jeongguk [3:49 p.m.]: He barely even remembers you probs
You [3:50 p.m.]: who would not remember me
jeongguk [3:50 p.m.]: The only thing i’m now remembering about you is how I couldn’t stand your ass
You gasp, hand coming up to brush against your parted lips. With a huff, you hastily click at your keyboard, “Mean. Sent. Ugh.”
On the sixth day of December, your persistence pays off, and you find yourself at a random bar you’d never been to before, seated with both Jeongguk and Taehyung.
Between Jeongguk’s cigarette breaks—forcing the three of you to brave the cold outside—and brief moments in corners of the cramped place where the music feels muffled against the walls, you manage to catch up with Taehyung. The rest of the time though, the noise inside is so deafening that it makes any kind of meaningful conversation impossible.
Even more when a random girl slides into the booth next to him, capturing his attention entirely, leaving you and Jeongguk in paradoxical silence.
The tattoo artist has been glued to his phone with his head down for the last 20 minutes, and now you alternate between observing his side profile, roughened by the piercings and a more defined jawline, and analysing the weird dynamic that is beginning to form between Taehyung and the girl, sitting in front of you.
Alone with your thoughts and, well, the pulsating music, you feel yourself getting unreasonably closer to symptoms you know all too well, that threaten to have you spiraling. You shake your head, forcing it to stop. There’s no reason for anxiety to visit you at such an inconvenient time.
But of course, the little voice in your head starts listing all the totally valid motives why this is indeed the perfect time for it to visit you.
The bar feels suffocating on your skin.
Your dress clings too tightly.
The couple facing you is shamelessly close to making out.
Jeongguk sighs in visible boredom.
You shouldn’t have come. Hell, you shouldn't have suggested it in the first place. A smarter version of yourself would have brought Eunbi for balance, for comfort. But in your foolishness, you thought this could be an opportunity for you and Jeongguk to catch up. Instead, you feel foreign to him, foreign to this pub booth, and the air begins to feel foreign to your lungs. You’ve never liked bars, clubs, or places with loud music.
You sniffle, looking down at your lap. Then up at the ceiling. Then around the room. It keeps spinning and booming with volume that only adds to the feeling of helplessness. Quick, quick, quick.
What are five things that you can see?
Five. Your gaze falls on Taehyung and the girl, their lips and tongues clumsily entangled as they laugh between sloppy kisses. No help there. The air catches harder in your throat.
Four. Your empty glass, its smudged rim a reminder of the single drink you had, now sitting uncomfortably in your stomach.
Three. Your scuffed heels, their tips worn to the nub despite your best efforts to hide it with a marker.
Two. The swirling lights above the bar, dizzying as they flash brighter and brighter.
One. Jeongguk’s tattooed hand on your thigh.
His fingers dig into the skin, shaking you alarmedly, with a force you’ve never known from him, not even when it came to stopping your shaking stomach as you were laying on the studio’s leather bed.
Head snapping up to face him, you’re met with a perfect resemblance of how you must look right now. Wide eyes, knitted brows, nose flaring and exhaling, and you try to follow the movements of his mouth, but they jumble together annoyingly in your brain. You lean closer, narrowed orbs still fixated on his lips to try and read them. Are… you… ok—
“___, you’re scaring me. Hey, hello? Are you okay?”
Jeongguk moves from your thigh to your shoulders, jolting you gently but firmly from the fog that is threatening to cloud up your brain. The sudden clarity hits you, but you still stumble forward, your weight toppling over his chest. With it, your head dips rapidly, hurtling toward the sharp edge of the table, and before Jeongguk knows it his instinct snaps and he catches you promptly.
The next steps blur together. You vaguely register the boy next to you standing up and pulling you along with him, his broad shoulders supporting one of your arms while his inked one secures around the small of your waist, holding you firmly against him.
Then, it’s nothing but brief flashes. Jeongguk pressing a water bottle to your lips. Sitting you down on the stairs outside the pub. Holding your hair back as you double over, emptying the contents of your stomach onto the pavement. Cracking a smile to make you laugh, showing off his tattoos in exaggerated detail like it’s the grandest tour of your life. Opening the door to his car and gently easing you into the passenger seat, ensuring the seatbelt clicks into place.
Inside his car, you slowly feel your senses come back to you.
At a redlight that you recognise as the one near your apartment complex, you muster a small and hoarse thank you. Jeongguk only hums low, eyes fixated on the road and fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel.
Before a sheepish smile can make its way on your lips and spread across your face, your head twitches back as your brows furrow. Your thoughts suddenly catch up with you, “Hey, how do you know the way to my flat?”
His gaze briefly flicks toward you in annoyance, then back to the road. “You literally just told me.”
“Oh.” A beat passes before you giggle softly. “Don’t remember.”
Jeongguk mutters something intelligible under his breath, and next thing you know he’s turning down your street and slowing in front of the building that matches the number you gave him. Given your current state, he begins to question if that is even the right one.
“This one!” You point at the tall front gate with an almost childlike excitement, back shifting slightly from the seat as your grin stretches wide. Jeongguk grimaces. Why the fuck do you look like you’ve been reuinted with your home after years apart, as if you weren’t there just a couple hours ago?
“Right. Huh, you good with going back on your own?”
“Yes. I’d hate to bother you further. I’m sorry for this, I… was getting better, I guess.”
The sad confession doesn’t land with the weight it should, softened by the smile painted on your lips and the chuckle you let out as if it were nothing. Jeongguk’s eyelid twitches, unsettled by the unnecessary happiness that always seems to drip from you, even when it doesn’t belong.
“‘S okay. Have a good night,” he awkwardly bows his head, waiting for you to exit the car. When you stay still, he clears his throat, adding just to fill the silence, and perhaps because he means it, “Huh, and make sure to rest a lot.”
You take a moment, maybe longer than you should, to study his features up this close. You particularly fixate on the way his eyes dart everywhere but never land on yours. Then, with your signature toothy grin, you bow back and open the car door, leaving with a string of thank yous, and get home safe, and I’ll text you, and please, reply to me, and bye.
Jeongguk has to fight a smile of his own.
On the tenth day of December, you realise you want him. Even more badly than your fourteen-year-old self ever did. Which is frankly insane.
You don’t know if it was the natural way he looked after you during your episode, or his dry sarcasm as he actually started replying to your random updates throughout the day.
But no, it was definitely the selfie he sent you after what he said was a long day. Messy hair, tired eyes, a hint of a smile. You’d struggled to even gulp down your saliva when the picture popped up in your chat, and maniacally stared at it with eyes glued to the bright screen before sending one of your own. He had replied with Cute. followed by Your hair pin is cute.
That is why you find yourself facing… Yoongi? If you remember correctly. The guy at the front desk of Jeongguk’s studio.
You beam at him, and what you’re met with instead is a confused stare. You inhale, “Hi. Is Jeongguk in?”
Yoongi scratches his head, muttering, “He’s busy with a client.”
“Oh. It’s okay,” you wave off his concern. “Can I wait here?”
The boy hesitates, looks unsure the more your interaction develops, and he glances between you and the empty waiting area. He relents with furrowed brows, “Sure… Huh, It’s a back tattoo, so it’ll take him a while.”
You shrug and plop yourself onto the leather sofa, seemingly unfazed, “I like waiting.”
Crossing your legs, you take in the studio’s atmosphere, eyes drifting to the dark walls lined with framed artwork and certificates. You spot Jeongguk’s name on many of those.
For the next fifteen minutes, you try distracting yourself by flipping through the stack of tattoo magazines on the coffee table. You wince at inked heads, faces, butts, and even… more private parts. Deciding this world is definitely not for you, you slam the book shut.
By the time an hour passes, you’re fighting a battle with your lack of sleep. The third yawn you manage to stifle, but the fourth escapes before you can stop it. Yoongi, seated at the desk, doesn’t bother hiding his unimpressed stare. Still, he’s polite enough to offer you a glass of water, a coffee, or even a chance to join him for a cigarette break.
You decline all of it, though your throat does feel dry.
Maybe you should have planned this with a bit of rationality. Or at least gotten more sleep. Now, your every blink is slower, eyelids batting to shut and taking longer to flutter open again. Hm, this feels nice. You’ll just let them rest for a bit longer. And longer. And a bit more.
The next time you open your eyes, Jeongguk’s face is inches away, his warm hand resting firmly on your arm. You jolt upright with a startled yelp.
“Jeongguk.”
He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirking up in an unmistakably mocking smirk. “Hey. You don’t have a bed?”
You sit up, forcing Jeongguk to step back and straighten to his full height. Your neck cranes upward to glare at him, brows furrowed in what you hope is an intimidating glare, though you sport a pout that is all but menacing, “Shut up.”
He clicks his tongue, turning back to round the desk and fiddle with the appointment book, clearly unbothered. You take the moment to rub your eyes—only to remember, too late, that you’d worn makeup. A quick glance around reveals how much has changed since you last let your eyelids flutter open. The lights in the studio are dim, the hallway is dark, and every door is shut. Yoongi is nowhere in sight. It’s just the two of you in the deathly quiet space.
You gasp, pressing a hand to your parted lips, “Did I fall asleep? I'm so sorry. I was probably really tired from yesterday.”
Jeongguk hums, focus still locked on the book in front of him, eyes narrowed. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t ask why you came here in the first place, and doesn’t acknowledge your apology. Ugh. This is humiliating.
Before you can stand, you feel something heavy draped over your body. It’s a jacket. Definitely not yours, since you never took it off. At least not consciously. No, this is a worn black leather one on which his scent lingers. You tug it closer, puzzled, and then look up at him, holding it out. “Did I steal this in my sleep?”
Jeongguk scrunches his nose, “Ew, are you a sleepwalker?” Locking the till, he strolls over to you and plucks the jacket from you, casually slipping it on. “No, I put it on you. Wanted to see how long someone could feel safe enough to pass out in my studio. Thinking of turning this place into a daycare. I’ll have you play in the morning, get some lunch, nap time...”
There’s a beat of silence in which his sarcasm lingers in the air, and you stare at him, unamused. He shrugs, smirk unwavering.
You huff, “I regret coming here.”
“Yeah, why did you come here?”
Smoothing down your pink wool sweater, you stand up to stretch with zero shame. Then, fluttering your lashes at him, you assert with a smile, “You’re coming with me to the Christmas markets. This Sunday.”
Jeongguk groans like the idea physically pains him, “Oh, I would fucking hate that.”
Ignoring him, you zip up your puffer jacket and rock on your toes, “Pick me up at seven, okay?”
He glares, unimpressed at your excitement, before heading toward the entrance and pulling a hefty set of keys from his pocket, “I don’t even remember where you live.”
You hurry after him, following him outside and shuffling closer in your coat at the cold air hitting you. Watching as he locks the door and pulls down the rolling shutter with its red-and-black skull graffiti, you chirp, “You’ll have to text me for that.”
Jeongguk rises up again, giving you a slow once-over. He seems distracted by your hair before snorting, “You’re talking like I’m the one who spent their afternoon napping in my studio just to drop this bomb and leave. Couldn’t you just text me this?”
You shrug innocently. He sighs, reaching out for you, “Do you need a ride hom—”
“Bye!”
You spin on your heel and skip off in the opposite direction before he can let his own greeting out, waving a gloved hand behind you. Jeongguk stays where he is, arm still held out.
Do you even have a car? He hopes so—it’s freezing out.
With another sigh, he shakes his head and tugs his jacket tighter around himself. Why are you so fucking weird?
On the fourteenth day of December, your arm is looped tightly through Jeongguk’s as you stroll through the Christmas markets, burying your face further in your scarf to shield against the icy air, and with each few step you gasp at things that the boy next to you finds utterly unimpressive.
You stop at nearly every stand, eyes glowing with the warm Christmas fairy lights strung all around, effortlessly picking up conversations with the vendors and melting even the most stoic faces with the scrunching of your nose at every grin and the exaggerated nods following descriptions of their crafts.
Through all of it, Jeongguk remains put at your side, his arm linked with yours and a subtle pout on his lips. When you tease him about it, he simply shrugs, and you figure it’s just his natural expression. You find that oddly endearing.
He still humors your enthusiasm, offering low hums or murmured praise whenever you exclaim you’ve finally found what you’ve been searching for everywhere, and he offers to pay every time, the gesture so casual that he doesn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest.
When you bow to the nth seller, clutching yet another bag of sweet treats tightly to your chest, Jeongguk exhales and resumes slow walking beside you, “I don't like these places.”
You glance up at him, fluffy hat almost slipping off before he promptly secures it back on your head with a gesture so smooth you hardly notice it. You instead wonder, “Then why are we here now?”
He slips his hand into his pocket, “Because you threatened me.”
“With a really good time.”
“If this is your version of a good time, you might as well kick me in the balls. That probably feels better.”
You gasp, halting in your tracks to glare at him. When he lets a small chuckle topple out of him, you think you might forgive him. No, you’re more than sure with the way his smile lingers. You sheepishly look away, muttering, “Don’t tempt me, emo boy.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh yes, you are,” you interrupt, snapping your face back to his. Clearing your throat, you prepare your best imitation of him, exaggerating a frown and lowering your voice, “I’m so different, I hate Christmas.”
Jeongguk scoffs, pulling you tighter to him when a scooter unexpectedly zips past you. You yelp, instinctively shuffling closer to his arm. He continues the conversation casually, unaffected, “That’s the worst impression of me I’ve ever heard. And also, I never said that.”
Releasing the breath you held for a moment too long, you uncertainly keep your slow stroll going, only narrowing your orbs at him, “It’s written all over your face.”
“I love Christmas.”
The admission is small, his voice soft and almost reluctant, like it pains him to reveal something so simple and obvious as loving Christmas. When you lean your chin on the puffed arm of his jacket, he doesn’t look down at you, his gaze fixed ahead, guiding the two of you through the chaos of the busy street.
You chirp, your steps stumbling, “Really?
Only then he shifts his attention to you, steadying you with his other arm wrapping around your figure in what seems like a hug, before he lifts you up by the neck of your coat and retreats just enough to face you. His lips press into a straight line as he nods, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes the more he stares in yours, “Yeah, really. I just don’t like… crowded spaces.”
You can’t help but think back to what happened just a week ago. The exact reason why the spirals in your brain wouldn’t stop twisting and tangling is now slipping from his lips in a voice that quietens as he seems to grasp the delicacy of his own confession.
He doesn’t like the way you’re looking at him. Drawn-up brows over wide and sparkling eyes—the only part of your face visible beneath your scarf—stare at him with something too tender, too focused, that makes him uneasy. He turns his head to the side, the tips of his ears red not only from the cold, and pulls you along toward another stand, an almost nervous distraction.
It’s your turn to frown. Maybe the one that’s permanently plastered on his face tonight isn’t just a reflection of his usual sullen demeanor. With a knot tightening in your chest, you can’t help but feel like you dragged him into something he truly hated, and that he wasn’t just pretending to.
What if this isn’t just your evil inner voice talking? What if this isn’t just overthinking, but the factual truth of your current reality? He’s hating every second of this but still enduring it because— you catch your breath with a long and strained inhale, because—
“Hey, dimples. You okay?”
Jeongguk moves to stand in front of you, his hands settling gently on your shoulders, a stance eerily reminiscent of that night you were just thinking back to. He nods at you, “Breathe with me, hm?”
You find yourself quickly adjusting to his comforting aura, drawn in by the reassurance in his eyes trained on you, never wavering, watching closely as you begin to mirror the measured rise and fall of his chest, your breathing gradually syncing with his until the tightness in your chest starts to ease.
When you feel your feet touching the ground again, you offer a small, apologetic smile. “I’m okay. Sorry. Just…” You quickly scan your surroundings, eyes landing on a colorful stand, “Wait here a second, okay?”
Jeongguk lets you slip away, fingers twitching slightly at his sides. He takes a few hesitant steps closer, careful not to crowd you but unable to tear his eyes away from your next actions, how your grin comes back on your lips with unpracticed ease, lighting up your face as easy talk flows between you and the seller. A few coins trade hands, and soon you’re holding two churros, their chocolate-dipped ends threatening to drip onto the ground.
You don’t hesitate, biting into one of them before it has the chance to make a mess, and with a quick nod of your head you motion for Jeongguk to follow. He does so, only after taking the churros from your hands, and letting you seek his warmth again with an arm snaking under his. He’s only letting you do this because it’s fucking cold, no other reason.
You walk, and walk, guiding him along until you find a quieter corner, away from the bustle, where you two stand isolated from the rest. The dim lighting casts a softer glow, and the distant hum of chatter and music fades into a gentle background noise.
Glancing up at him, you flash a playful smile before leaning in to bite another chunk of the churro he’s holding, your laughter spilling out as he grimaces in exaggerated disgust and pulls the sweet out of your reach. You settle onto a nearby bench, patting the empty spot beside you invitingly.
Jeongguk is unsure of what this means. He takes slow steps towards you, handing you your churro—which you take eagerly, already chewing on it—before tilting his head back in mild confusion, “But… you wanted to visit the markets.”
You shake your head, your bug eyes meeting his as you speak around a mouthful of sugar and chocolate, “There’s no point if you’re not going to enjoy it.”
The look you’re giving him is one he’s seen countless times before—familiar, and annoyingly reminiscent of ten years ago. It’s the same look that, he’s convinced, is solely responsible for making his knees weak and his fingers jittery, no longer something he can blame on the cold. You’re unbelievably frustrating.
He clicks his tongue, looking away, “You’re fucking weird.”
You giggle, humming, “If weird is a synonym for whipped, then sure.”
He has to fight the twitch of his lips. Fakes a gag instead. You chuckle louder. Only then, he hints at a smile, “C’mon. Let’s go check out some other stuff.”
“But—”
He interrupts, pulling you up by your forearm, “I’m hungry.”
The next hour you spend wandering around is made of Jeongguk’s small, imperceptible ways of cracking: his pout less prominent, more replaced by lips pulled into a tight line or in a mildly pursued scowl as you ask him which beanie looks better—the pink or purple one; his so evident sarcasm as he comments on how the old vendor was totally flirting with you, or when he mockingly adds to your over-the-top excitement every time you spot a dog. All in all, he’s more relaxed. More himself.
You then find yourself standing in front of the churros stall from earlier, the warm scent tugging you closer. Without hesitation, you ask the lady behind the counter for another four churros—this time with extra sugar. You add two thank yous.
To fill the waiting, you pick up casual conversation with the woman, until she pauses mid-sentence, wrinkled hand coming to rest over her heart as her gaze flits between you and Jeongguk, her crinkled eyes lighting with a sudden fondness and a quiet, content smile finds its space on her chapped lips, “You two look perfect together.”
Jeongguk snorts, “Oh, we’re not—”
“Thank you, auntie!” You chirp, and your grin is so wide it squeezes your eyes into crescents. You accept the first churro she hands over, biting into it and talking through it, “These are delicious. Is the recipe a secret or can you share it with me?”
The woman laughs, clearly flustered by your energy, and leans in with a conspiratorial expression, though she gives in pretty soon, “It is a secret, but… Oh, c’mon. A pretty lady like you deserves to know.”
You burst into chuckles, joined by auntie’s own rolling and carrying a contrasting warmth to the cold air. Jeongguk, for his part, stands slightly to the side, observing. You still cling to his arm, even as the vendor reaches over to gently smooth her fingers through your curls, complimenting the way they frame your face. You roll your eyes, feigning exasperation, but there’s a dimpled smile stretching on your cheeks that gives you away.
Before you leave, the lady points to Jeongguk, voice growing earnest, “You, handsome. I can see you’re a good guy, so you probably don’t need my advice. But treat her right, yes?”
Jeongguk stills for a second and stumbles over an awkward nod, managing to force a smile that has you stifling a laugh under your scarf. You tug him away with a cheerful wave to your new friend, promising her you’ll come visit again before Christmas.
Once you’re at a safe distance, he mutters, “Why did you not tell her that we’re not together?”
You tilt your head considering his question, “It’s not like she knows us. She looked like she adored you. I didn’t want to ruin that for her. Maybe seeing a young couple like us really means a lot to her.”
Jeongguk observes how the more you explain, the more you’re convincing yourself as much as him, eventually solidifying your reasoning as you nod, muttering some more under your breath. He scoffs, looking away to hide his lips twitching.
When he turns back he’s frowning, though it doesn’t quite match the way he lets you hook arms again, your pastel pink bag hanging from his shoulders. Still, he sulks as though the mere thought of your observation has him shivering, and not with the cold, “We’re not a couple.”
Jeongguk barely gets to let his unnecessarily petty comment out before you drag him with an unusual strength over to another stand, his voice not even touching your ears, “Oh, let’s go over there, Gguk!”
On the twenty-first day or December, you send him a picture of your tattoo.
You had been talking non-stop ever since your… date? Or was it just a hangout? Whatever it was, it’s been a week, and Jeongguk finds himself smiling at a fucking screen too many times a day for his linking. It’s irritating. Even brings his phone with him to the bathroom in case you text him. Not because he cares. No, it’s practical. What if you ever had an emergency and he was the only one who could help?
Most of the time it’s just you sending TikToks, but he clicks on the links with the same urgency he’d reply to a genuine plea for help. He doesn’t really want to think of the reason why.
Now, this picture—it catches Jeongguk off guard.
It doesn’t even look like it’s about the tattoo. Not really. It feels like an excuse, a flimsy pretext for you to show yourself to him. The tattoo—the one he himself inked—is there, yes. But it’s not at all the main focus of the photo that tightens his grip on his phone.
You’re wearing a thin, pink tank top with delicate lace trim, the straps barely clinging to your shoulders. Your fingers hook under the neckline, tugging it down just enough to expose the tattoo nestled between the soft curve of your breasts. The angle of the shot is deliberate, he can tell. Your back arches slightly off what he assumes is your bed, and your face is cropped out, save for your glossed lips, full and slightly parted, catching the dim light.
Jeongguk blinks, hard. Then again. His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, the low light of his phone screen doing little to soften the image burning itself into his mind. His eyes dart upward, scanning his surroundings, just to make sure everything is in place. The shop is empty, the door is closed, the hum of quiet settles over the space.
Looking down, the picture still stares back at him paired with a single message.
Annoying [11:39 p.m.]: do you think it’s healed? idk about this stuff, need your help 🥺
He’s not stupid. He knows exactly what this is. He alternates between the photo and your words, jaw ticking and tightening more with the seconds flowing.
It’s almost cruel, the way you’re testing him like this. He tries to push the feeling down, to reject the buzz of heat pooling low in his stomach. You know him well enough to be aware that he won’t reply to something like this. A stupid, unnecessary message. The tattoo is healed—he told you that a week ago, clear as day. There’s no reason for you to ask again.
What’s the purpose of this?
He gets a distorted idea when he shifts uncomfortably in place, the dull ache tightening his pants almost unbearable now.
Jeongguk groans and locks his phone, tossing it onto the counter as if that will put an end to this. He tries to refocus on his tasks, the last ones before he clocks off. Cleaning needles, tossing used stencils.
But his heavy balls keep sending desperate, silent prayers to his brain, to please let them have this. Just this once.
It’s been a bad day. Two of his appointments canceled last minute, leaving him to sit around bored. The last client showed up drunk and wouldn’t stop trying to flirt with him. His coworkers were loud and distracting, and to top it all off, the heater broke, leaving the studio freezing cold.
It’s been such a bad day.
So, would there be any harm? It’s not like anyone will know. Not you, not his friends. He’s the only one that will. And he’s far more willing to live with this dirty secret rather than with his hard dick straining achingly in its confines.
Jeongguk abruptly snatches up his phone again, unlocking it to the same picture that caused him to brush the device aside just minutes ago. He lets out a shaky breath, thumb hovering over the screen. You won’t get no reply to him. But if you knew what he was up to right now, you would probably geek. Tease him, with your warm smile that digs dimples in your cheek, hopping on your toes to poke at his chest playfully, with those perfectly manicured hands of yours.
“Shit,” his free hand is already pushing the jeans down along with his boxers, and he drops his weight onto the nearest stool as he grips at the base of his thick cock, eyes devouring the image of you in the empty chat.
He doesn’t zoom in. That would feel too shameless. But he finds it oddly better like this. Is it weird that your text, so innocently worded, is turning him on? That the simple idea of you needing his help is enough to have his hips jerking?
What could you possibly need his help for? Fuck. The different ideas that pool his mind have him squeezing harder at his stinging tip.
Jeongguk focuses on your dainty hand, slim pointer finger snaking under the collar of your flimsy shirt to show yourself to him, and your small boobs spill from the sides with a delicious, soft swell. He hisses when he pictures that same hand working on him instead, his warm mouth stuffed with your stiff nipples, visible through the sheer material.
He can’t help the loud groan leaving his lips, wrist flickering up and down in a motion that feels sloppy way too soon, hips jutting up to fuck into his tight fist. Throwing his head back, he sees you even behind closed eyelids.
He pictures your delicate figure sprawled on his bed, long lashes batting up at him as you sheepishly hide with your cheek to your shoulder. Can clearly make out how you’d sit on his lap instead, unsteady breath fanning over his lips, using his long shaft to make yourself cum. The whole time, he sees the tattoo on your chest, the one that is forever on you, eternally a reminder of him.
When he lets his head topple forward again, his bright screen still stares at him, only because a new message pops up in the chat. He startles, and his cock throbs in his hand.
Annoying [11:52 p.m.]: oh, and i miss you.
“Oh, fuck,” the curse is strained through a loud whine, and only followed by more of his full moans filling the room. His brows knit as his hand moves rapidly, palm collecting the precum spreading embarrassingly fast on his tip and rolling it down his length.
He focuses on your parted lips, the soft curve of your breast, your hard nipples begging to be sucked and spit on. Your last text has flashes of your bug-like eyes staring up at him seizing his mind.
That’s what undoes him. He’s delirious as he lets out his every sound, freely, unchecked, not caring about how loud he is, whimpering as he gets closer to his climax. When he thinks of those eyes locking with his, kneeling before him, eager and willing to swallow his every drop, he cums. Hard.
Jeongguk pumps everything he can out of him, and it’s messy—spilling over his hand, staining his clothes, pooling on the floor. His chest heaves with the effort, and the sensation of abandon he feels is so pleasurable, energy drained but leaving him with a lightness that threatens to make his cock hard again.
Fuck. He can’t afford that happening if you’re not the one attending his needs. This won’t be enough, not until it’s you. He’s insatiable.
Jeongguk needs to hear your voice.
It’s an instinct, and he bends to it. He’s careful, making sure not to tap on the FaceTime option, because if you were to see him right now it’d be glaringly obvious.
When he looks to the side, he catches a glimpse of his reflection in the long mirror, and he visibly grimaces at the way his cheeks are flushed, the pearls of sweat coating his forehead causing his bangs to stick uncomfortably to the skin.
Guilty doesn’t even begin to cover it.
With the phone to his ear beeping to eternity, he hesitates, contemplates ending the call before you can answer. But just then, you do.
“Jeongguk! Is everything okay?”
Your voice is familiarly soft, but there’s a trace of concern. Blinking, he brings the device closer again and gulps thickly when he can make out your panting breaths. He clears his throat and puts on his best nonchalant act, “Huh— Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know… You just never call. Or text first. This is weird. You sure you’re okay?”
Oh. Is that really what it is like?
Jeongguk never realized this was how he came across—so detached that a simple phone call feels out of character. Your naive honesty hits him square in the chest. God, he needs to get better at this. The irony stings: he just fucking jerked off to your picture and the simple thought of you, while you’re on the other side thinking he’s just a careless piece of shit who doesn’t even know how to call.
The long stretch of silence registers in his brain, and he coughs to buy time, “Yes, I’m sure. I— huh,” he thinks of stuff you usually ask to keep the conversation flowing. Not out of courtesy, but out of genuine interest, the curiosity that makes people want to open up. He’s still not used to that. Still finds it weird.
“How… How was your day?”
It must be equally weird for you because it takes you a longer beat to reply. In that quiet moment, he clenches his eyes shut and feels his jaw tick with shame. And embarrassment. And this icky feeling that makes him feel too mushy for his liking. Hell, what is he doing? He’s never been like this, he’s not supposed to be like this.
But you recover quickly, as you always do, and you smooth over the moment. Fix it all for him like you were born to be just that. Make him feel like he fits in ways that have him exhaling shakily.
Jeongguk senses a foreign drumming in his stomach, and it’s warm but odd, and he loves it but he doesn’t want to.
On the twenty-fifth day of December, cheekily under a mistletoe, Jeongguk realizes he wants you. There’s parts of him that probably knew way sooner. But the parts of him that didn’t, fighting tooth and nail to suppress the mere thought, are just now finally surrendering.
Jeongguk has always found you admirable, back in high school. You had this determination to you. Not only when it came to him. It shone particularly when you catered to others, always finding ways to help, to mend, to offer yourself with nothing less than a fully toothed smile.
But he’s also always thought you two were—and still are—too different to work. He can’t be what you want, let alone what you deserve: someone who can match your enthusiasm and unwavering smiles, your frustrating positivity; someone who sees the world the way you do. No black, no grey, no shades in between. Just bright, hopeful white. Blinding white.
It’s the white making him dizzy, shifting his perspective, having him believing the opposite of what he’s always known. Pushing to be a little more egoistical, deceiving himself that he’s right for you. Because he wants to be. He oh, so selfishly wants people to know he’s the one who finally gets to have you, the one gifted with such a light, unfairly deserving of all the love you carry into every room you walk into.
Just a few days ago, during another one of your increasingly frequent phone calls, you asked him what he was doing for Christmas. He could have lied, come up with something on the spot.
But with how you so easily, and always coax the truth out of him, he let it slip. He told you he’d be alone, words subtly heavy. But they didn’t have the chance to even drop their weight before you were already inviting him to your friend’s party, insisting that he would be the most welcome.
And he’s here, and he sits beside you, and every time you laugh you lean your weight over him, and the room vibrates with the energy you fill it with, and each one of your friends is so enamoured with you, and for reasons he can’t fully understand it fills him with a sense of pride that shouldn’t belong to him. But it does, and it comes with so many other feelings.
You don’t push him to talk. You never force him into the spotlight when he takes a step back, quietly observing, choosing to stay in the background. Because you read him like it’s in your nature to do so, your soul seems to intuitively melt with his, and it intertwines in such a tight knot that he feels it constrict his throat. He knows he’s still alive because his heart is beating, just a little faster with each time you flash your dimples at him.
“Dimples. What are you doing, hm?”
Now, he’s in front of you, a small smile on his lips as you stand on your tiptoes, trying to dangle the mistletoe over both your heads. You’re struggling just a little, your hand unable to reach high enough, and the fake plant awkwardly brushes his hair, the tickling sensation causing his nose to scrunch. You laugh.
Looking up at your swinging movements, you lose your balance for the slightest second. Jeongguk’s hands move instinctively, catching you promptly by the waist to steady your body. But even after that, he doesn’t shift, his warm palms stilling. And when you face him, he’s closer and his chest brushes against yours. From this proximity, he witnesses the Christmas lights painting a galaxy of their own in your orbs.
You beam, “What does it look like? We have to kiss now.”
Jeongguk stares in your expectant eyes, brows wiggling and all. The more his mouth keeps in a straight line, the more the wiggling slows. You eventually come down from your tiptoes, letting the mistletoe fall to the side, tilting your head.
He snorts, looking away briefly to hide an embarrassingly wide grin behind his hand. When he turns back to you, your pout is enough to have him scrambling to meet your gaze.
“On one condition, though.”
You chirp, “Yeah?”
He licks his teeth, reserving you with a smug look, “Admit that you were scared to get your tattoo.”
Your smile vanishes in an instant, your expression falling into mock offense. With a dramatic roll of your eyes, you turn on your heel, pretending to walk away from him. Pretending, only because you know he won’t let you. And you’re proven right when his fingers wrap around your arm, tugging you back with enough force to spin you into him. Suddenly, you’re pressed so close you can feel the heat radiating from him. Your chin nearly touches his chest as you glare up at him, narrowed eyes meeting the mischievous glint in his.
He bites a smile, lips twitching, “C’mon, princess. You wanted to act all tough and shit, but I could feel you shaking.”
Your scoff is loud and incredulous, “You’re such a bitch.”
He only shrugs, “You want my kiss, no?”
“Oh my god,” groaning, it’s your turn to face the side to hide a grin, “Are you always this cocky?”
His chin tilts upward slightly, and you can tell he’s enjoying this, “Say it.”
You whip back around to meet him with a seriousness he hardly ever sees on you, and you even clear your throat, channeling every ounce of the determination he knows you for, every drop of resolve that makes you you. “Yes. I was scared shitless, Jeongguk.”
Foreign excitement brims out of him, not before his eyes widen just a fraction, and his nose scrunches the more he leans closer to you, inches from you, swinging side to side with exaggerated mockery and a grin splitting his face, “See! I knew—hmph.”
There’s no other second to waste.
The condition has been met, and now all the requirements for you to claim what you were promised, your reward, are there. Even more when kissing him means catching him mid-taunt and silencing whatever teasing remark he had ready.
Your lips touch his in effortless ease, breaking the air as they press together. It’s tentative at first, almost uncertain as you feel Jeongguk remain still.
But it doesn’t take him longer to move, mouth molding against yours in a sickeningly sweet hug, tasting each other with quiet curiosity, taking your time to adjust and melt, instructing your bodies to imitate the dance.
Your arms lock around his neck, his stronger and tattooed ones circle your waist, and the way you click together feels so right, almost too perfect, so perfect it scares you. When you arch yourself further into him, even the non-existent space between you unbearable, he accompanies the motion with his wide palms gliding along your back, squeezing you into him, feeling the curve of your hips.
The soft whine that scratches your throat and vibrates against his lips betrays you, along with the useless effort to contain the intensity of what you’re feeling. The emotion disarms you, the sound gasping in your chest, but in Jeongguk’s arms it feels safe to let go.
On Christmas day, you crown a youthful fantasy, the kind you’ll look back to even when you’re older. Jeongguk feels like he’d be the right person to stand by you to do so.
When he reluctantly detaches from you, his face keeps at a safe distance that’d allow him to go back and taste you, not before resting his forehead on yours and whispering, “Merry Christmas.”
You giggle. “Merry Christmas, Gguk.”
#jungkook x you#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook au#jungkook imagine#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook x female reader#jungkook x original character#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x oc#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts imagines#bts fic#bts series#bts x reader#bts#bts fluff#bts x fem!reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#🦌: christmas & chill#📁c&c: true love
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 02:33 P.M 」
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based on this video. this idea has been rotting in my brain for some while :') dad gojo will always have a soft spot in my heart <3
a part of gojo's love entries
your baby’s first trip to aquarium was such a cute affair you were sure you wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“waaa~” your baby’s eyes were gleaming with wonder as he gazed at the diverse array of colorful fishes above him, completely captivated by the view.
and your husband...
“aren’t they pretty, hmm?” satoru asked his adorable son with a grin, pecking his cheek and holding him snugly in the baby carrier against his chest, with a backpack of baby essentials strapped on his back.
he was the very vision of a domestic dad, and along with your son, who was dressed in a bear onesie, complete with two little ears, they made a really irresistible pair. even you couldn’t fault the crowd for staring at them.
“fwaa! waa~” your munchkin was squirming with joy, his tiny fingers stretching out towards the sight before him. satoru giggled, moving closer to the glass to give his baby a better view.
“look! that’s clownfish! and those wiggly flowers are anemone! and that is—”
he faltered at a fish passing in his view before deciding, “this— i don’t know, but it’s the clownfish’s friend!”
they are basically the same. your little boy and your husband, both of them clearly shared a brain cell as they happily pointed out different fishes.
“meh! hehe!” your baby babbled away, excited and incredibly happy in his father’s hold, and satoru too seemed to feel the same, as his eyes beyond that sunglasses crinkled.
“damn, my kid is so cute.”
suddenly he dived down and pretended to chew his pumpkin’s chubby cheeks, effectively making him squeal in glee.
and oh lord, the way your heart skipped a beat seeing that. it was so clear how much satoru adored your baby, and it made overwhelming warmth rush to your chest.
“he’s a good man,” an elderly lady beside you suddenly remarked, making you turn to her. “not many men do that for their kids.”
“he is…” you agreed with a shy smile.
“it’s a shame that you only have one baby,” the elderly man beside her—possibly her husband—added. “you’re still young and he is so good with them too.”
your heart swelled and would’ve already burst if it was possible. bashfully, you thanked the elderly pair as they went on their way.
and along the way, you received similar hushed comments and adoring looks—
“oh my! their baby is so cute!”
“how can such family exists?! the dad, mom, baby… all three of them are so good-looking!”
“such a hot dilf! can’t he divorce his wife and marry me instead? i’ll be his kid’s stepmother gladly!”
satoru pretended not to hear, but he clearly held back his laugh. you threw the school girl who carelessly blurted that a pointed look, making her scurry away.
and after the three of you were done walking around the aquarium, you stopped by the gift shop to get your baby his first fish pet.
your son suddenly became fussy, and satoru unclasped him from the carrier. “hmm? do you want mama?” he handed him over to you. “here, here~ mama wants to hold you too~”
as soon as your son was settled in your embrace, he giggled, and you couldn’t help but bounce him and coo. “do you have fun? you do, don’t you?”
it might not visible to others, but now satoru was staring at both of his reasons of being with literal stars in his eyes.
several years ago, he thought his life had stopped when his best friend negated his beliefs entirely, but you were there, holding his hand throughout it all. and then you married him— and then, you gave him a son to dote on.
you keep giving his life a new meaning. and he was thankful for that.
. . . meanwhile, you kept hearing whispers from a gaggle of girls in the next aisle, about how much of a dreamboat your husband in his blue shirt was and it was grating at your nerves so much that you pursed your lips into a total pout.
satoru thought you were the cutest, not even second to his baby, and he decided he wasn’t known for public decency anyway so he dived in and pecked your lips—dispelling any stray thoughts and making you flush in an instant.
“sato—!”
and before you could rebuke him, he whispered in your ear:
“so... baby number two, when?”
#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jjk drabbles#jjk crack#gojo satoru#satoru x reader#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#jjk fluff#gojo x you#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader fluff#gojo fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#gojo satoru imagines#dad!gojo#jjk gojo satoru#jutusu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo
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I adore your best friend's older sister! Sevika headcanons, literally been rereading since last night 😫
I had a thought, a little crumb, a little ✨food for thought ✨, but what about Best friend's older sister! Sevika getting jealous. Maybe they aren't together yet and she spots reader getting a lil too cozy with another friend. Or maybe they are together and Sevika is not liking the way reader's coworker is gettin a lil too comfy 👀😤
I've truly thought about this too often lol, sorry for the rambles ♡
best friend's older sister!sevika getting jealous <3
note to anon: BAE DON'T APOLOGIZE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO <33 and omg thank you so so much!! I'm so happy you like it hehe. so, I decided to expand upon the first idea you gave because it's so so good, though I LOVE both. like, thank you so much for sending these thoughts AHHH <33
so, I totally agree with you that best friend's older sister!sevika would definitely be possessive. it's only worsened pre-confession because you're not hers yet, so she doesn't feel like she has much of a right to do anything about it. at least if you guys were together, she could wrap her arm around your waist or kiss your head, something silent to signify to others that you're hers.
but, as much as you two have teased and been pushing and pulling these past few months, that's all it's been. push, pull, push, pull. no confession, no asking out, no dates. and, listen, sevika doesn't mind the long game necessarily -- she knew from the get go that if she was gonna be pursuing you, it'd have to be serious. she wasn't about to get into some vague, unidentified shit with her sister's best friend. not only would her sister kill her for that, but it's not even what she's interested in in the first place. it's easy to talk to you, to trust you. it's easy to want something longterm with you. but, longterm means she needs to put in the work of trusting you. and for her, that takes a while. so, she doesn't mind the long game.
what she does mind, though, is that taking things slow means that in this whole getting-to-know-you phase, she doesn't know exactly where your head is at. if you want something serious, if you're ready for a relationship. she knows she should be asking you these questions, but as much as she hates to admit it, it makes her uncomfortable to think of being so honest about these feelings of hers. and what being honest could potentially lead to, like a pierce into your guys' relationship, whatever the hell it is.
but, goddammit, is it fucking hard to not grab you, drag you to her room and show you exactly how she feels when you're on the living room couch, canoodling up to one of the girls in yours and her sister's friend group. she knows how it is for you guys. no boundaries, endless amounts of teasing, flirting, nasty jokes. but, that doesn't make it any easier to see you nuzzling your head into one of their shoulders, the two of you swapping and laughing hysterically over suggestive comments about leaving the room to do some "private activities."
sevika grits her teeth from where she can hear the conversation, gripping the handle to the fridge hard. she sucks in a sharp breath, shakes her head, and grabs her bottle of water from the side shelf. shutting it close quietly, she makes her way to her bedroom, sock-clad feet heavy against the wood.
when she walks past your group, practically cuddled in the living room, she nods quietly at the group of you guys, feeling her shoulders tense up when you and her make eye contact. your head darts off your friend's shoulder, and she nearly snickers. you really aren't subtle when it comes to paying her attention. and today, she doesn't feel like returning it, her stomach clenched in anger over the unabashed flirting she just overheard.
she's in the middle of tinkering at her desk, tweaking some annoying shit that keeps making a scraping noise every few hours, when a knock comes to her room.
"yeah?" she mutters, trying not to throw the screwdriver right at the wall.
when you poke your head in, she glances at your momentarily before continuing her work. she hates how her stomach flips at your arrival, how she suddenly feels clumsy with the tools under your gaze.
"what?"
you start from where you lean on her doorframe. "I just, um, wanted to check if we're good?"
"just peachy," she huffs out, dragging her wrist past her brow, which is sticky with sweat. "why?"
"well, um..." you trail off, shifting on your feet. "you usually smile or say hi now, and right now, you didn't."
she feels a flash of irrational annoyance. she doesn't like the fact that you can read her so easily, as though you have her constantly under a microscope. she doesn't wanna have to deal with her jealousy, her feelings, but you cornering and confronting her like this doesn't make that easy.
"I'm fine."
she blinks hard at the gears when her bedroom door softly clicks shut.
"no, you're not. sevika, come on, what's wrong?" you trot over to her desk, standing right next to her, shoving your presence into her space. "tell me."
she sighs, her body stiff with embarrassment and irritation at your stubbornness. god, things would be so much easier if you weren't so damn feisty, always snapping back at her. but, at the same time, though she'd never tell you, she can't help but like your persistence.
"do you have to be so damn flirty with all your friends?" she bites, immediately regretting the words as soon as they shoot out. so much for subtlety.
your head jerks back. "that's why you're upset? sevika, I've always flirted with them, you know that. I'm sure you've seen your fair share of it for years now."
"yeah, well, now, it's different." she keeps her eyes locked onto the desk, and when she realizes just how thinly veiled the implication of her words are, she rushes to add, "now, I think it's risky shit. you know, someone could get the wrong idea."
you scoff. "it's been like this for years. no one will get the wrong idea."
she rolls her eyes, grumbling incoherent words. she knows you're right. she's made her own fair share of jokes like that with her buddies, even the ones she wouldn't be caught dead with in any lifetime. and you're right, your little gang has always been like this. but, none of that helps to dampen the burning irritation that grows in her stomach when she sees you being so touchy with someone who isn't her. with someone who may think they have a chance with you, no matter how slim. she doesn't want you to have options, she wants to be the only one you see in that way.
"and I don't want you to get the wrong idea, either."
she freezes at the words, her hand stilling.
you inch in closer and your warm palm rests on her shoulder. she feels something stir inside her at the touch, wishing you'd slide the rest of your hand down her arm. you guys have touched briefly, sure, but it's usually fleeting, teasing. this, though? this is tender, and -- it's intimate. you're trying to reassure her, she can tell. she knows it's a nice thing to do, but a part of her cringes at the fact that her feelings were so badly concealed that you even needed to comfort her at all. she should be better than this.
"I don't see anyone in my group like that, okay?" you pause, and the silence between you two thickens. right before it becomes suffocating to the point of sevika forcing herself to respond, you add, your voice quiet and shaky, "trust me, it's not my friends whose attention I want like that. just one other person... who's close by."
her nostrils flare, her breaths feeling tighter than before. are you saying what she thinks you are?
"okay," she manages to get out.
"okay." your hand slips from her shoulder, and she feels the cold of your absence as you turn to leave. without thinking, her hand flies up, catching yours.
your head whips to her in surprise, eyes wide and curious.
she thumbs at your pulse point, some of her confidence regaining through feeling how it spikes. but, still, there's an undercurrent of discomfort, so she tries to steady her voice before saying, "you know, I have a pretty good shoulder too."
you laugh, ducking your head down. sevika tries not to pull you in closer, coax you to look at her when she talks. "yes, I'm sure you do," you respond, a sarcastic lilt to your voice.
"well, obviously. you're always checking me out when I work out."
you splutter, eyebrows scrunched indignantly. "well, that's because you insist on working out in front of us always! for all I know, maybe you're the one who's into someone in our group."
your voice is mocking, but sevika hears the tremors of it towards the end. are you nervous that she maybe is into someone else but you? or are you hopeful it's you?
you gave her a bit of assurance, so she might as well return the favour.
"maybe there is someone I'm trying to impress. someone who'd maybe notice that more if they weren't always shoving their face in other people's chests."
she can see how your eyes bulge at the semi-confession, your palm slick with sweat in her hand. your mouth flaps open for a few seconds, before shakily saying, "well, you did offer yourself up as a substitute."
her cheeks ache with how hard she's trying not to grin too widely. "don't get too excited."
you wring your hand from her grip, smiling coyly as you reach for her doorknob. "I'll try to contain myself."
#WROTE THIS IN A RUSH BC I'M HEADING OUT SOON BUT I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY HEHE#not proofread I'm sorryyyy#s.writing#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x you#arcane x you
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LEON'S GUILTY PLEASURE
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SIREN IS TYPING . . writing debut! :33 this is my first ever leon fic, so please be nice! 3: i accidentally went a bit too far and made the word count 9.4k words..um..enjoy! reblogs and replies are really helpful & help me stay motivated so if you have any kind words to share, please do! i would love to hear them! i’m sorry for the really long delay in posting this but UHHH!!! idk ;(( my bae 3k helped me with the plot for the call & i hope i tagged everyone ^_^ i did my best to proofread so hopefully it’s good!
CONTAINS: older man leon! x pornstar! reader — age gaps, alcoholism, mutual masturbation, leon is co-depended with your content, he adores you, hinted erectile dysfunction, leon is lonely and sad, reader is there to put on a show for him, video call sex, dildo use, etc!
SYNOPSIS: a lonely man copes with two things, alcohol and porn, one night he comes across a video that catches his eye, pushing him down a spiral of coping through you. he adores you and your work, his only want in life is to get closer to you, and when you make a contest and offer the winner a chance at a one on one call with you, leon jumps at the opportunity.
slumping down onto his bed, a drunk leon kennedy, sat back.
a small groan left his lips as nausea swirled around inside his stomach, he didn’t have food in his system, and his stomach was full of whiskey.
aerial shoot, his favorite.
but, fuck. he overdid it, throughout the whole evening he had been nursing a new bottle of the bitter whiskey, drinking it down like it was water, not caring about the way it burned his throat. by now it was empty, the drug seeping into his system like a blanket, making his body feel hot.
slipping down onto his bed, leon stared blankly at the roof, the room was dark and quiet.
he wasn’t tired, he was drunk, but not tired. another groan came from him, his large calloused hand moving to his face. he rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the throbbing sensation in his head. he had always been tolerant of alcohol, but tonight his body couldn’t take it anymore. he thanked a higher being for not being insanely nauseous, he wasn’t in the mood to spew up the alcohol.
he let out a deep breath before he reached out and grabbed his phone.
hitting the power button, his eyes shut immediately as the blinding light of his phone hit his eyes. “jesus, fuck—“ he grunted, quickly turning down the brightness.
looking at the screen, he wasn’t surprised when he was met with an empty inbox. no texts, no calls, no emails.
a sigh left his lips, the reminder of his loneliness brought a heavy weight inside his chest. looking to his side, there was an empty spot next to him, the bed was cold.
he was lonely.
despite what he tried to tell himself, he craves romance, he craves stability. the idea of living a happy married life was something he dreamed about when he was younger, before 1998, before he became what he is now. now he scoffs at romance because deep down, he knows no one would want to be with an alcoholic old man. his prime is gone a distant memory. he feels like a shell of himself, he doesn’t have much to live for now.
the cycle of self-hatred and self-loathing was part of his daily routine, at night, he gets lost in his thoughts.
he can’t go a day sober, it would kill him. at least that’s what he thinks.
the memories of the people he had lost haunt him, no matter how much time passes, the vacant space he has in his heart doesn’t go away. no matter what he does to try and get rid of it.
the dating scene wasn’t for him, not anymore, not at this age.
he could go and pay for hookers and prostitutes to fulfill his sexual needs, but it was never enough. the pleasure was temporary.
he wasn’t happy.
leon hasn’t been happy in a long time, so long in fact, he doesn’t remember how it feels.
his gaze focused on his phone, he wanted to stop thinking. he needed to forget everything, his grief, his anger, his loneliness. that’s why he relied on alcohol, but tonight he didn’t want to drink himself to sleep.
so, that left him with one more option.
opening the internet on his phone, his dull eyes focused as his fingers typed.
pornhub.com
this was pathetic, leon thought to himself. he was pathetic, and he knew that, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on the top link.
his thumb tapped against the glass screen, entering the website.
he was quickly met with the thumbnails of various sexual acts. from girls with a cock shoved down their throats, to girls getting folded while a man is on top of them. leon was uninterested.
he never liked porn videos made with high production, it was fake, unappealing. the bright lighting, the obnoxious moaning, and the stupid faces the girls make. it was ick worthy, leon always preferred amateur porn. it was charming when a video was poorly produced, with bad quality, and crooked angles. he liked that over other porn videos.
opening the search bar, he typed the word amateur. after clicking search, he scrolled down various videos before he found one that caught his attention.
it was a masturbation video, the title wasn’t crazy either.
college girl masturbates solo :)
it was cute, the little smiley face felt so out of place on a site like this, but it piqued his curiosity. in the thumbnail your hands were between your thighs, and the position of your phone was up — like you were taking a selfie. he didn’t see much of your face, by the angle he could only see your soft lips as you bit your bottom lip. you were wearing a cute set of lingerie, too.
there was something so cute about you, from the cutesy title and your pretty lingerie, his curiosity lead him to click on the video.
the video loaded and the first thing he saw was your breasts as you adjusted the camera down. you were holding it yourself, the camera facing you. as the camera moved down, he saw your hands slipping down to your panties.
he couldn’t see your face, seems like you were shy.
he watched with anticipation as your fingers pressed against your clothed cunt, rubbing slow gentle circles on your clit. turning up the volume of his phone, he heard the way your breath hitched. he could see as your tummy moved up and down with every breath you took.
leon’s stomach tightened as blood began to rush to his cock, his hand moving to palm against his pants as he got hard.
after a minute of teasing, you put the phone down against your bed, leon heard fabric shuffling. after a few seconds, you grabbed the phone again. the angle stayed the same, but now he could see your pretty pussy.
it was slick, glistening.
his mouth went dry as he took in the sight, your manicured fingers gently pressed against your perky clit, your touch was light, and you were savoring the pleasure.
leon heard a soft moan leave your lips, his hips squirmed as he grabbed his cock through the fabric of his pants. his hand moving to slowly grope himself.
he continued to watch with eager eyes, his hand moving to unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants. eagerly, he slipped his hand under his underwear, his hand pulling his cock out.
it was standing tall, pre-cum leaking from the slit.
he shuddered, he hasn’t been this hard in what felt like forever. he genuinely thought he lost his spark, he was in his late thirties after all.
his hand wrapped around his cock, a shaky breath left his lips as he squeezed it. his cock was thick, it wasn’t the biggest there was, but it would leave girls dumbfucked. or well, it used to. he hasn’t gone that hard in a while.
his cock was pretty, his tip was reddish, veins adorned it. the ones that made the girls mushy and whimpery.
the mental image of the girls he’s shoved his cock into filled his head. truthfully, he doesn’t really remember faces, but he remembers how they reacted. their bodies trembling and loud moans.
oh, how he missed it.
as he stared at your pretty pussy, all he could think about was shoving his cock deep inside you. have you whimpering and gasping his name as he kept you folded.
his cock twitched, fuck.
you were getting him so hard, he didn’t even think it was possible given his track record in the last few years. biting the inside of his cheek, he let out a breath, he was this hard over a girl on a porn website, but he couldn’t get this hard when he was balls deep inside a hooker’s cunt. god, this was pathetic.
pathetic, pathetic, pathetic..
you’re pathetic leon.
even as the words repeated in his head, his hand was still working on his cock, jerking and tugging on his shaft. his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips parted slightly, keeping his gaze on you, he watched as you rubbed your clit faster.
he could hear your small shaky moans, you were close and so was he.
his balls were tightening, his breathing was heavy, small pants leaving his lips as he rubbed his cock raw. chasing for a high he hasn’t felt in years.
a choked groan left his lips as he came, cum spurting out of his tip in amounts he hasn’t had since he was in his twenties. his cum was milky and thick. he continued to gently jerk his cock as he rode out his orgasm, another groan leaving his lips as his head leaned back.
his eyes fluttered shut as he felt his cock softening in his hands.
holy fuck.
his mind was fuzzy, he had almost forgotten about his phone until he heard a moan come from it. he moved his gaze towards the screen and watched as your hand stayed between your thighs before they slammed shut and you began to ride out your orgasm.
leon watched with eager eyes as you rode out your high nicely.
he squirmed and let go of his flaccid cock, his cum staining his hand, his stomach, and his pants.
he moved his hands and they gripped his phone again, he tapped on your username and watched your profile. your profile picture was a shy picture of your chest, a different set of lingerie holding your tits up.
looking at your bio, he shuddered as he read your information.
your name was pretty, it suited you. he saw your age listed, twenty-one, he just had the cum of his life to a video of a twenty-one-year-old? a feeling came to him, he didn’t know how to feel. staring at his screen, his mind still processing that information, should he be disgusted? guilty? ashamed?
he sucked in a breath and gulped.
him, a man in his late thirties, almost forty, just came to a video of a twenty-one year old girl.
it felt wrong, right? she was almost two decades younger than him, when the racoon city incident happened you weren’t even born yet. this had to be wrong.
but it wasn’t, and he knew that.
sure, the gap was questionable, but it was legal. yet, he felt so..wrong.
the worst part was that even after he realized this, he still watched your other videos.
choked moans left your glossy lips, your eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed up in pleasure. your mouth was slightly agape, forming an ‘o’ shape. leon’s cock slamming down into your cunt, his hand was placed on the small for your back as he held your upper body down and kept your ass up.
he let out small pants, his eyes shutting in bliss.
your walls were warm and snug, sucking his cock back inside your cunt with a wet squelch. you were so wet, your cunt practically drooling. it was driving him mad.
his free hand was gripping your ass, holding onto the fat like his life depended on it, his dull nails digging into your skin. he let out a guttural groan as he felt your pussy tighten around him, squeezing, milking him. he didn’t have the self control he had back then, he was edging himself to try and last longer.
it was hard, his balls were heavy with cum, cum he wanted to stuff deep inside you.
his eyes shut tightly, he bit down onto his bottom lip, his thrusts got sloppily — fuck, fuck, fuck. “s-shit—“ he choked out, his head leaned back as a whimper slipped past his lips. his cock throbbed no matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his cum spurted out of his tip.
he shook as it spurted in waves, his eyes fluttered open and he panted. “sorry—“ he said, feeling bad for not letting you cum first and filling you up without any form of protection. you hummed in reply, your ass still in the air as he pulled out. his cock getting softer, his lidded gaze watched as his cum slipped out of your puffy pussy, falling in glops onto his sheets.
he felt hot as he watched it, he was about to say something when—
his eyes opened and a shaky breath left his lips, it took a moment for him to adjust to his surroundings. quickly sitting up on his bed, leon was met with the saddening realization he was alone.
you weren’t sleeping next to him, his bed was cold.
not only that, but his pants were wet. he pulled the blanket off his body and groaned when he realized he had cum inside his pants. rubbing his forehead, he slipped off his bed groggily.
it was still dark out, his bedroom was completely dark aside from the natural light of the moon that entered through his windows.
leon hastily took his pants and underwear off, throwing them across the room to where he thought his laundry basket was. he walked to his cabinets and dug into his underwear drawer before he put them on, stumbling a bit before he finished.
running his hands through his hair, he stalked over to his bed and laid down.
reaching out for his nightstand, he grabbed his phone, this time he was mindful of the brightness so he adverted his eyes and quickly lowered it before staring at the screen.
no new messages, he frowned, except an email. it was an advertisement.
he scrolled through his apps and found one, the one you’re most active on.
instagram.
leon was rather clueless about social media, but the only reason he had it was to stalk your account. he opened the app and saw that you had uploaded a new story. he quickly tapped on the bubble and watched through your posts.
you were out that night, you took photos and various videos of the night. wearing a little black dress, your tits were practically spilling out, one wrong move and your panties would be exposed. you looked beautiful though, he adjusted himself in his bed and stared at the picture you captioned ‘fit check! :D.’ he couldn’t get over how cute your little captions were, it was humorous. a cute little emoticon at the end of a text while the picture behind it was you in the sluttiest outfit you could find.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon took a screenshot of the story and continued to scroll by your posts.
you looked so happy, so pretty. leon loved the way you smiled, all teeth, it all seemed so genuine. you were with your friends in the videos, giggling and dancing along to whatever song the club was blasting.
after he finished going through your story, he clicked on your account, no new posts. a deep sigh left his lips as he put his phone back on his nightstand and turned to his side. pulling the blankets up, it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep once more.
leon wasn’t sick.
he wasn’t a bad man, he wasn’t a freak, he was just lonely.
he was lonely and desperate, that’s what he told himself. he had this lingering guilt that manifested in the back of his head, you’re a sick man, leon. that’s what it repeated, every night, while he re-watched your videos and looked through the photos he had saved, it spoke.
sick. you are sick.
leon swore he wasn’t, he was just a broken man. one that found solace in you.
the age gap was eating him up inside, he had never thought of himself as someone who would find girls in their twenties attractive. yet, where he was.
he didn’t want to imagine what people would say if they found out he jerked off nightly to the thought of you. not just your videos, but the thought of you. he found himself daydreaming about you, not just in sexual situations, but romantic ones.
at the store he finds himself looking at the flower display, thinking about getting you flowers, trying to guess what flowers you would like the most. in public, when he saw couples, a bitter swirl churned in his stomach. jealousy, he was jealous that he couldn’t do the same with you.
this was developing into more of a followership, it was slowly seeping into the realm of obsession. delusion was his best friend.
occasionally, you participated in live streams.
it was cute, you were more talkative there, and you interacted with your followers happily. he was a quiet supporter, he didn’t use the chat room. you were too intimidating, he didn’t want to say something that could make you uncomfortable. he mostly gave you gifts, sending in money for you, he didn’t say much when he donated. occasionally he would type a small message for you to read with each donation, but it was rare.
that didn’t matter though. being able to hear you say his name, albeit his username, made him happy.
in these live streams, he’s been able to learn a lot about you. he knows you’re a college student, he knows you’re studying literature, he knows you’re a good student, he knows your favorite food, your favorite animal, how you like to spend your time, and much more.
he knows more about you than the people he knows in his life.
tonight, you had scheduled a livestream. posting about it on your instagram story.
‘i’m gonna be live tonight at 8 p.m. come by to talk, and i have a surprise too! >_<’ leon was curious, a surprise? so, of course he entered the stream after you started it. he needed to know what you were planning, maybe he could be part of it.
you sat in front of your camera and greeted all of the people coming in.
leon stared at you, you were so pretty, he thought. god, he felt like a teenage boy.
get a fucking grip.
your eyes focused on the screen where the chat box was opened, he watched as your eyes lit up, “welcome back, kennedy!” you said, looking back at the camera. looking straight at him.
his mouth went dry when you addressed him.
he clicked on the chat box, looking through to see if there was another kennedy, he didn’t want to jump straight to conclusions and embarrass himself. but there was no one else with the display like that.
SKENNEDY001
okay, he wasn’t very good at making usernames. he stared at his screen, unsure of what to do. you addressed him, should he say hi back? he’s never spoken in the chat room before. what if this went wrong?
slowly tapping on the keyboard, he replied with a simple. ‘hello, how are you?’ — best he plays it safe, right? his face feels hot, and he feels embarrassed. he’s always been more of a silent admirer, honestly, he never expected you to actually notice him. all sorts of different thoughts filled his head, from negative to positive. what would people think, what would you think if you found out that the biggest reason you’re paying your bills was because of some man in his late thirties who watches your content like it’s the news.
but what if you were into that? he’s heard stories about girls thinking older men were attractive, were you that type?
“i’ve been good!” you replied, snapping him out of his flood of thoughts. “i’ve seen you around, i think you might be my biggest fan.” you winked.
leon’s heart was practically beating out of his chest, he knew you meant it like a compliment, but it felt like you were pointing out how much of a lonely loser he is. “i just wanted to say thank you, your donations really help.” you said with a smile, that same pretty smile that drove him crazy, the smile he adored.
he didn’t know what to say, if he wanted to, he could write a detailed essay about you and how much he admires obsesses over you.
‘you’re welcome.. i like to support you.’ he typed back, after hitting send, he squirmed. did that sound weird? staring at your face intensely as you read through the chat, you let out a small laugh. “thank you, kennedy.” you replied, looking back at the camera. seeing how full the stream was getting, he decided that this was the end of the conversation.
his chest felt fuzzy, a feeling he hadn’t had in years, a feeling he had completely forgotten about.
he was obsessed with you.
the stream continued smoothly, you teased the camera, showing off your body and tempting the men, like him, who watched. by now he needed to rub one out during your streams, who would he be if he didn’t?
the stream was coming to a close, but before you spoke. “oh! the surprise from earlier, i almost forgot.” you said with a small laugh as you leaned back against your chair.
“basically, i was thinking, why not have a little contest.” you said, smirking at the camera. “imagine this is an auction,” you said, “the highest bidder gets to have a private, on one, video call with me.” you said, looking at your camera. “who knows, maybe that call can lead to something else.” you hummed, winking at the camera as you slid your hand down your chest.
leon blinked, a call with you? it was a dream come true. the only thing this lonely man could ask for.
you continued on, opening a gift box for anyone who wanted to get a chance with you.
he ignored how this could lead to poor financial decisions, he needed that call. he needed you for himself, he needed you to address him — to talk to him, he needed your attention like a lost puppy.
the gift period was only open for about fifteen minutes, first come first serve type of thing.
luckily, unlike the other people in the stream, he’s a government agent. with that title comes money, so as a way to secure that call, he sent you thousands.
he watched as you read the screen, your eyes widening as you saw the notification come in that you had received a few thousand dollars from your shy admirer. “holy shit.” you gasped, “okay— we have a winner! we have skennedy001 that donated over a thousand dollars!” you said, stammering as surprise filled your bones. “i’m closing the bid, that’s way too much money!” you said, giggling as you shut the bid off.
the people in the chat were going crazy, some were taking the loss like losers while the others congratulated the mystery man.
not too long after the stream ended, leon shut his phone off and stared at it. a deep breath left his lips, he didn’t know what to expect after being called the winner, but when he got a notification someone had messaged him through the streaming app, he opened it.
what he didn’t expect was to have a message from you in his inbox.
‘hey, kennedy! omg, that donation was insane! i didn’t expect that much money, please let me give you some money back! i really don’t deserve that much!! :,,)) you’re so sweet, and i appreciate it sososo much!!’
leon stared at the screen, double-checking that it was really you that had contacted me, his face got hot, did he overdo it? was that too desperate? oh, definitely it was, but still.
running his fingers through his hair, he began to type back, trying to brainstorm what to say, but after a solid five minutes of debating his options, he finally replied.
‘hello, i’m glad you appreciated it, but no. it’s okay, you can keep all of it. that’s the reason i donated it. spoil yourself.’
he typed back, his icy blue eyes hyper focused on the screen, he watched as in the span of a few seconds a small text bubble popped up as three dots bounced around. you were replying.
‘aww! are you sure? like, a 100% sure? i’m just making sure!! i just don’t wanna feel like i’m stealing from you, or something LOL!’
your text was cute, lighthearted, and warm, you were so considerate. he liked that, and his thumbs began to type out a reply.
‘no, no. it’s okay, really. just enjoy yourself.’
he replied he was trying his best to not seem uninterested. he has been told many times before that he was very “dry texter” — he had been told how uninterested he sounded with his texting habits and how it could make someone want to stop replying, and he didn’t want that. he just wasn’t sure what to say.
‘omg i am so grateful for your kindness! i’ve seen you in my streams a lot, i have honestly wondered about you. i’m glad you won the bid, tbh i wanted you to win LOL it gave me a reason to talk to you!’
oh my god. leon’s eyes widened slightly at your text, you were bold, is this how it feels like to get butterflies? he blinked, how was he supposed to reply? he’s never texted a girl in her twenties, what do girls like? what will keep you interested?
‘oh, yeah?’ he replied, reverting back to his usual dry texts, but you were lively, you knew how to keep the conversation going.
the conversation was sweet and lengthy, you ended up suggesting you move to your instagram messages so she could talk to him more often.
leon’s heart was practically going to explode out of his chest, he was giddy yet nervous. you had told him that you guys could arrange the video call for the next day at night after you finish some college work.
he was stressed, leon wasn’t sure what to expect. he’s seen your pretty face, but you haven’t seen his. his instagram profile is of an old landscape photo he took a while back, what if the camera isn’t flattering for him? he did warn you that he was in his late thirties? he didn’t want you to get your hopes up for a younger man. maybe he should just keep his camera off.
nonetheless, that night, he went to sleep happier than he has been in a while.
≻ the next day, leon was practically counting down the hours, the minutes, the seconds, until he got to see you. in the morning, he had been excited — the people around him noted his giddy attitude, but when asked why, he didn’t say anything.
he couldn’t expose himself.
but as the clock ticked and the hours passed by, leon found himself much more nervous than he’s ever been. he doesn’t want to fuck this up, in his delusion. he thinks that if this goes well, maybe, just maybe, this could evolve to something more.
you were so sweet to him last night, but the more he thinks about it, perhaps it was flattery.
he hadn’t thought about it now, this might just be all an act. something to keep him wrapped around your pinky finger, but he decided to push those thoughts down so he wouldn’t spoil his night.
once he reached his place, leon was angsty, the sun was slowly going down. the sky was a beautiful mix of warm colors: orange, red, and yellow. he could also see a hint of blue mixed in as the night sky began to slowly settle.
entering his apartment, he slipped inside the door and shut it behind him. locking it, a person could never be too safe, right?
he kicked off his shoes and slipped off his jacket, he haphazardly threw his jacket on his sofa before he made his way over to his room. he plopped down onto his bed and slipped his phone and flask out of his back pocket. opening the flask, he raised the metal container up to his lips and took in a quick shot of whiskey.
he couldn’t go into this sober.
letting the flask rest on his lap, he opened his phone and opened instagram. he looked at the messages he had with you. oh, he forgot to reply to your last message a few hours ago. he pursed his lips, fuck he feels bad, leon wasn’t an avid texter, so it was easy for him to forget.
‘sorry for the late reply, i was working.’ he hit send before he could register how “dry” that sounded, he quickly scrambled to text a bit more, so he didn’t seem too boring. ‘i’m nervous for the call.’
why would he say that?
leon shut his eyes, he was really bad at this.
after a few minutes of leon anxiously waiting for your reply, a ping came from his phone. quickly looking down at the screen, he saw that you replied.
‘aww, don’t be nervous! i don’t bite, unless you want me to ;)’
he let out a breath at your words, it felt like you always knew what to say, the number of times you’ve said something sly during the conversation that had his chest fuzzy must be over ten in the span of twenty-four hours.
leon started to type back, but he stopped mid-sentence. he wasn’t sure what to say, he was fumbling over his words, and no sentence he tried to type up made sense.
he saw your text bubble pop up, you were typing.
‘what? did i make you nervous? ;p’ — yes, yes you did.
he felt like he was in his early twenties, stumbling and stammering when a pretty girl gave him attention. jesus, has it really been that long since he’s felt something like this? god, that’s so sad.
leon ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his dark hair back, ‘yes, i don’t know how to behave when a pretty girl is talking to me.’ now it was your turn to blush, leon leaned against his headboard as he stared at his phone.
‘ohhh? is mr. kennedy getting bold? ;)) i’m excited for the call, just give me one more hour ♡’
‘take your time.’
during that hour, leon decided to try and freshen up, at least a bit. he knew he wasn’t going to turn on his camera, but maybe getting refreshed would make him feel more confident in himself.
he changed out of his work clothes and took a quick shower, he slipped on some comfortable sweatpants and a black compression shirt that he typically used when he was working out. as he looked at himself in the mirror, he noticed the eye bags that hung under his eyes and the stubble that covered his cheeks and chin.
moving his hand up to his face, he ran his fingers through his stubble and sighed as he felt the facial hair scratching his skin. should he have shaved this morning? he didn’t know, he hadn’t been bare-faced in a few years now, as he aged the clean look he used to have didn’t fit him anymore.
reaching over for his flask that he had left on the bathroom counter, leon quickly took another swing of his flask and then sighed as he put it back on his counter.
he was so fucking nervous and for what? he’s been face to face with death before, he’s encouraged over thousands of zombies in his lifetime and yet he’s so nervous at the idea of talking to you.
feeling his phone buzz in his pocket, leon scrambled to take it out before looking down at his screen. it was you.
‘okay! i’m ready, are you? ;)’ — no, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be, but he replied, ‘yes. how does this work?’ he replied, unsure of what you were planning.
he watched as the text bubble popped up from your end as you typed again, ‘its suuuper easy! i’ll set up a voice chat and send you the link, then i’ll turn my camera on so you can see me!’ biting his bottom lip, leon moved out of the bathroom and sat down in his bed, his back resting against the headboard as he stared down at his phone.
‘okay, i’ll wait for you.’ he replied as he tried to relax, letting out a deep sigh, leon shut his eyes for a few seconds before he felt his phone buzz again.
looking back at the screen, you had sent him a link.
‘here it is! ;)’ the text said, his thumb hovered over the screen as he bit the inside of his cheek and hesitated before quickly tapping the link. the link opened up another website, the same one you use for streams. it took a few seconds for it to load, but he could tell his camera was off and his mic was muted.
okay, good.
eventually, the screen loaded and he saw you, you were wearing a cute tank top of a band, he’s seen the band name around before. it was popular back in the early 2000s, you didn’t have any sexy clothes on, it was actually cute. it made you feel even more real.
“hi!” you said as you waved at the camera, “let me know if the camera and audio are working properly, sometimes the app gives me issues,” you said with a smile as you stared at your screen. leon went to open the chat box, but he realized that if he wanted to make the most out of this call, talking to you would better.
taking in a deep breath, he cleared his throat and unmuted his microphone. “..it works,” he said, his face feeling hot as he spoke.
leon had always been rather charming and talkative in real life, so why was he so shy? it wasn’t anything like him, did his loneliness really ruin him? your eyes lit up when you heard his voice, surprised he spoke.
he watched as a smile curled on your lips, “i’m glad!” you said, leaning in closer, giving leon a full view of your cleavage, he noticed a black lace bra underneath your shirt. tilting your head to the side, you hummed, “soo..how was your day?” you asked curiously as you stared up at the camera with a small smirk. leon hated how quick it was for him to feel pressure growing in his pants when it came to you.
why was it so easy to get hard for you?
“it was good..you?” he asked softly, his hand slipping down his body to grip his cock through his pants. your smirk turned into a smile, “my day was good too! thank you for asking,” you hummed, “so, what do you want to do?” you asked, leaning back against your chair as you moved your hand to hold your tit, squeezing the mound playfully. “it’s just you and me, no need to be shy.” you winked.
leon squirmed in his bed, “..i don’t know actually,” he muttered, “i never got to decide how i wanted to approach this.” he said, squeezing his bulge and sighing. “..i wanted to just talk and get you know you more, but..” he trailed off, unsure if he should tell you that his cock was hard at the mere sight of you.
you seemed to get the hint when you heard the shaky breath that left his lips, “got too excited, didn’t you?” you teased, biting your bottom lip as you batted your eyelashes to the camera. “it’s okay, let me help you.” you offered, that pretty smirk of yours coming back to your lips.
leon’s eyebrows furrowed as he felt his cock throb inside his pants.
“..a-are you sure? i don’t want to ruin the call.” leon murmured, his voice uneven as he tried to resist the urge to slip his hand under his pants' waistband.
a small laugh left your lips as you shook your head, “of course not,” she said playfully, “you won this call, you get to choose whatever we do.” you said, “what’s your name?” you asked, moving to press your arms together to have them push up your tits.
leon let out a sigh and watched with a hazy look in his eyes as you pressed your chest together. “it’s leon.” he replied quickly, now eager to have you say his name.
humming, you smiled, “okay, leon. should i take off my shirt? i have a new pair of lingerie just for you.” that whole sentence could’ve made leon cum right there without any friction. the way you said his name, it was smooth, like honey. you were hot and you knew it, “y-yes, please.” leon mumbled out pathetically as he stared at his screen intensely.
you nodded and reached down for the bottom of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and discarding your shirt to the corner of your room. once your shirt was removed, leon got an eye full of your tits being held up by the new lingerie, it was a push up bra. your tits were rounded and plush, the black lace that surrounded the fabric was real pretty.
“do you like it?” you asked softly as you adjusted your bra strap, leon gulped and shuddered. “yeah, it’s pretty..it suits you.” leon said, you were so fucking hot. he wanted to jack off and cum right there, but that would just show how much of a pathetic man he is.
you only took off your shirt and leon came? embarrassing.
so, he edged himself. deciding to play it safe with palming himself through his pants. his hand moving slowly to not get too eager and fuck it up.
“you think so?” you mused, looking at the camera as your hands moved to squeeze your tits and push them closer. fondling yourself for his pleasure.
leon groaned and nodded, he knew his camera was off and that you couldn’t see it, but he couldn’t help it. “mhm, black suits you.” he said, shifting in his bed to adjust his position. “want me to take it off?” you asked curiously, looking at the camera with an amused smile. “i think my tits are pretty, it would only be fair for you to see.” you teased as you squeezed your mounds.
leon’s throat felt dry, he felt parched.
“yes,” leon shuddered out, looking down at the screen. you laughed and stood up, you adjusted your camera for it to catch your body as you stood. leon saw you were only wearing some cute little panties that brought out your ass.
turning around, your back faced the camera before you moved your hair out of the way and moved your hands to the clasps of your bra.
you were quick to unclip your bra and take it off, throwing it off to the side, to a place the camera can’t pick up. by where you threw your shirt, leon assumed. your movements were always so smooth, hypnotic almost. leon was convinced you were perfect, made with no flaws.
turning around, you held your tits up in your hands before you stepped closer and let your mounds drop. leon got a screen full of tits, you let out a laugh and moved your body in a slow sway, your tits moving around as you did so. “like ‘em?” you mused playfully before reaching up and squeezing your nipple.
leon’s head leaned back as a small groan left his lips, his hand moving down to grip his dick through his pants. “yes, fuck.” leon said with a pant.
you moved back from the camera and sat down onto your chair before adjusting the camera stand so leon could see you better.
“are you jerking off?” you asked, smirking at the lens, leon let out a small whine. “no, n-not yet.” he mumbled, his voice straining as he tried to sound level headed, but of course it didn’t work given how he stuttered. leon cursed at himself mentally, he sounds like a fucking pussy right now.
you let out a small laugh at his stutters, “what? you don’t wanna jerk off to me? you’re hurting my feelings.” you said softly as she tilted your head, leon’s eyes widened. oh shit, no, that’s not what he wanted to do.
“wait, shit—“ he tried to explain, “i didn’t mean it like that..i just want to savor the moment.” he said, shutting his eyes in embarrassment.
you smiled, “yeah? why not savor it while jerking off? i have my tits out just for you.” you teased, pouting as you did so. leon paused, you were right, your tits were out and you were willing to do anything for him and he was just edging himself?
a small groan left his lips, “yeah..okay.” he mumbled, his hand slipping under the waistband of his pants before he gripped his cock. his large hand wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing again due to the pressure, leon put his phone down and used his other hand to shimmy his pants down. once the waistband was wrapped around his knees, leon leaned back against the headboard and sighed as he gripped his dick.
reaching out for his phone, leon fumbled with it with one hand before finding the right position to hold it. unbeknownst to him, while he fumbled with the phone, he had pressed against the camera button.
his camera turned on and he had no idea.
you, on the other hand, were met with the sight of the mystery man that had been supporting you the most.
he was hot.
like really fucking hot, your interest on this man peaked after you saw his pretty face. he was resting his phone on his thigh was he held it up, you could see the stubble on his face, his dark black hair. he was older than you expected, but if anything it added to the appeal.
this man seemed to be seasoned, he was staring down at his phone with his eyebrows furrowed as a small sigh of bliss left his lips. he was jerking his cock, you noticed by the way his body moved, there was an arm that wasn’t getting picked up by the camera that worked on rubbing his cock raw.
you noticed how his icy blue eyes focused on you, staring at the screen of his phone with a lovesick look on his face.
he looked so pathetically hot, it wasn’t something you thought you’d find attractive, but seeing how desperate this older man was for you made you unbelievably horny. you squirmed in your seat before your hand slipped down, you moved and slipped your hand under the fabric of your panties. letting out a sigh, you felt your middle finger gently toy your clit.
“leon?” you mused, leaning your head back and spreading your legs for the camera to pick up how your hand was shoved under your panties. you reached over to your desk and grabbed a dildo, showing it to him. “wanna watch?” you offered, moving the silicone cock in a playful manner.
leon’s eyes widened in surprise, but nodded.
he gulped and you watched as his adam’s apple bopped up with the swallow.
leon watched as you slipped off your panties and grabbed a bottle of lube. you quickly coated your pretty pussy and dildo with the thick cream and leaned back once more.
your pussy was on full display as you pressed the tip of the dildo against your puffy folds. “ready?” you asked softly as you bit your bottom lip.
this whole scene that was unfolding in front of leon felt like it was going to kill him. he’s seen your pussy before, he’s seen you fuck yourself before, but there was something different this time. it was all dedicated to him.
only him.
“yes,” he shuddered as he gripped his cock tightly, you smiled at him and slowly slipped the dildo inside of you. a soft sigh left your lips as your warm pussy sucked in the silicone, leon watched eagerly. like a kid in a candy store, he would kill to be the one inside you.
your squirmed and rolled your hips against the dildo, looking into the camera as your free hand moved to grip your tit. “oh, leon.” you moaned out, smirking as you watched your screen to see his reaction. “you feel so good..” you teased.
leon’s eyes widened when he heard you moan out his name, were you pretending it was him fucking you? did you want to send his heart into cardiac arrest?
this cock throbbed against his hand, begging for attention, pleading for leon to let it cum.
leon’s balls were heavy with cum, it was unbearable to keep teasing, but he couldn’t help it.
a small whine left leon’s lips as he slowly stroked his cock, watching as you fucked yourself with your dildo. “you think so?” leon replied back, his face felt hot as he spoke, he’s never done dirty talk through the phone. he was embarrassed, was he doing it right?
you nodded, smiling hazily at the camera, “mhm..” you trailed off as a small gasp left your lips, the dildo focused on fucking your pussy. your eyes fluttered shut as you savored the filling feeling of your dildo, the silicone ridges and fake veins pressing and molding your walls. your pace was steady, your head leaning to the side as you continued.
leon was getting the perfect view of your pretty face and your stuffed cunt. he could hear the soft squelches coming from your cunt as it sucked the dildo back inside eagerly. he watched as your pussy glistened with slick, his body aching, he wanted to be there with you. he wanted to feel you.
but the world was cruel towards leon, and all he could do is watch and pretend he was the one fucking you.
“you’re so big.” you babbled softly, watching your computer screen, watching his reaction. he shuddered and trembled, moving on his cock slowly.
leon shut his eyes and grunted, his head leaning back desperately as his body ached. he occasionally looked back at the screen, looking at you with such admiration behind his gaze. like he was admiring a beautiful painting.
he was so cute.
“y-yeah,” he groaned, his body feeling hot, it was overwhelming. he felt the thinnest sheet of sweat coat his body, a swirling feeling coming to his lower tummy, it felt like a tight pressure. “—am i making you feel good?” he whispered out, his eyes shutting as his hand continued to jerk his cock.
each jerk felt like a rush of electricity went through his veins, an electric shockwave whose only purpose was to bring pleasure.
you moved your hand down and gently began to toy with your clit, pressing on the puffy bud as you fucked yourself. “no one has ever made me feel like this, leon.” you teased, moaning out his name softly. it was like music to his ears.
he couldn’t take it anymore, he physically couldn’t hold back, he should’ve gotten a cock ring to try and make him last longer.
“m’gonna cum, i’m sorry—“ he babbled, feeling bad for cumming so fast, he just didn’t have the self control he used to have on his prime. his hand began to jerk his cock in a fast, sloppy pace. his chest was rising and falling rather quickly, unable to catch his breath as he chased his orgasm.
leon moved his phone, he kept it by his lap, but by the position you could see his aching cock.
“it’s okay, baby.” you mumbled out, watching as he neared his orgasm. his dick was pretty, the size was okay, the thickness was there, and his tip was bright red. his hand gripped his shaft, he had pretty hands. large and masculine, you even saw an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist. you knew he had money, how else would he be sending you such high donations, but something in your stomach fluttered when you noticed.
you continued to fuck your dildo into your pussy, trying to match his sloppy pace. “cum for me.” you hummed, your tone playful and laced with lust.
this was so hot.
leon shuddered and moaned, his hand continued to rub his cock raw, he clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly as he focused on cumming.
the pressure in his lower belly was so tight, but after a couple of more harsh jerks, the tight knot inside his stomach burst. his balls strained and tightened as cum began to spurt out of his tip. it was thick and milky, staining leon’s stomach and hand.
while he came, leon’s body trembled, his toes curled, and his back arched slightly as a loud moan left his lips. he didn’t mean to moan out like that, but with the circumstances he couldn’t help it. this was pure bliss, his body felt lighter and his head felt fuzzy. he continued to slowly stroke his cock as it throbbed, he rode out his orgasm, his cum still spewing out of his cock for a few more seconds before his body relaxed.
leon shuddered as his cock began to go soft in his hand, he grimaced as he looked at the cum that stained his hand before wiping it off against his sweats.
panting, leon looked back at his phone, his face was red and his whole body was hot.
“shit, i’m sorry, i wanted to wait for you.” leon said breathlessly, you shut your eyes and continued to toy with your clit as you shook your head. “don’t apologize, it was really hot.” you moaned out, fluttering your eyes open as you looked at the monitor, eyeing him up as he laid back panting.
your clit was puffy and slick, aching for more.
rolling your hips up, your hands continue to work against your cunt, making your legs twitch and tremble. putting on a show for the lonely man in front of you.
biting the inside of his cheek, leon watched desperately, if he was younger he probably would’ve gotten hard again as he watched, but his cock didn’t have enough strength to stand. it didn’t matter, now leon could finally appreciate you, your pretty face, your pretty body, and your pretty pussy.
he loved the faces you made, they were so genuine.
if he was fucking you, would you be making those faces too? god he hoped so.
by now, a specific heat blossomed by your clit as your finger toyed with it. your touch was gentle and light, it felt like your clit was burning in the hottest way as the nerves went on overdrive.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—“ you whined, your voice strained as you focused on breaking the tight knot inside your lower tummy.
leon shuddered, seeing the way your eyebrows furrowed as you bit your bottom lip, you were so cute. leon wanted to say something, but it was like his brain was a blank slate. he couldn’t think, he couldn’t speak, he just watched as your glistening pussy throb.
it didn’t take long for the knot to snap, and once it did, your body jolted as a loud whine of his name left your lips. your thighs clamped together while your hand stayed pressed between your legs, the silicone cock was nestled nicely inside you, warm and sticky.
your body trembled as you panted, your head leaning back against the seat as you regained your thoughts.
god.
leon has seen you cum various times before, sure, but there’s something so different about it here. it was mind boggling and his head felt dizzy, a shiver going down his spine.
this was all a private show, all of this was only for him. no one else was as lucky as he was, he felt like he was getting spoiled.
watching you unravel and cry out his name had leon’s brain oozing, he felt demented, like his brain had melted and he was left as a zombie. he could tilt his head over right now and watch as his melted brain would come spilling out.
metaphorically, of course.
you reveled in the afterglow of your climax, your pussy felt like it was pulsating and throbbing. slowly, your hazy gaze focused back on the screen and you locked eyes with leon.
he let out a breath as he looked at you, it felt like you were really looking into his eyes.
he still had no idea his camera was on and you could see how enamored he looked.
slowly, with a long, soft squelch, you pulled the dildo out of your sticky pussy. you moved the silicone up to your lips and leaned in closer to the camera before you licked off the slick that coated the toy.
your tongue moved slowly, and occasionally you would glance at the camera, making eye contact with him as you cleaned up your dildo and the only thing that ran through leon’s head as he watched was: i wish that was me.
squirming, leon felt like his mouth was salivating at the sight.
eventually, you finished licking off your dildo before you placed a gentle kiss on its head before you put it away, hidden away from what the camera could pick up. “liked that?” you mused, tilting your head to the side with a cute little smile. it was almost funny how cute you looked after you fucked yourself in front of him.
“yeah.” leon said quickly, gulping back saliva as he looked at you so dearly, “um,” he began, clearing his throat awkwardly, “..is it okay to talk more? if you have the time.” leon mumbled, because deep down, he still wanted to talk to you — to carry a conversation with you, to try and charm you.
looking at the time displayed on your monitor, you hummed, drawing it out to tease him slightly. after a few seconds that felt like an eternity for leon, you looked back at the camera and nodded. “of course, i have time.” you said, winking at the camera before you stood up and slipped your panties on. you left the chair for a second before you picked up your band shirt off the floor and slipped it on.
plopping back down on the chair, you smiled and looked back at the camera.
“so, tell me more about you, leon.”
≻ the call ended not too long ago, leon rested his phone down on his bed as he let out a sigh and rubbed his forehead. his chest felt fuzzy and he felt giddy.
the two of you had spoke for a few hours and now that the call ended, leon yearned to hear your voice again.
he felt silly like this, but he couldn’t help it.
he missed your voice, your face, the way you moved your hands when you spoke, the small gestures you made when you talked about something you were passionate about.
he missed you.
reaching over for his flask, leon quickly popped it open and took another long swig. swallowing back his beloved whiskey like he was a dehydrated man drinking water, throughout the call, he hadn’t drank to try and not get drunk and ruin the moment. but now that the call ended and he had time, leon was happily swallowing back the whiskey.
hearing his phone buzz against his bed sheets, he reached out for it quickly, a swirl of excitement coming to him as he saw it was you that texted.
it was two attachments, a photo of your perky tits and another one of your computer screen — that’s where he saw it. he was on the screen.
the photo you had taken was when he had his phone down, getting a good angle of his side profile from the bottom. for the eyes of someone else, it was a good picture and he looked good. his hair was messy in just the right way, his adam’s apple was on display and given the fact his phone was down, the picture also captured his waist, chest, and shoulders. showing off his body underneath the shirt he wore.
it was a good photo, but leon’s heart dropped to the floor when he saw it.
had his camera been on the whole time? is that why there was a small red dot next to his selfie camera? clicking out of the photos, he read your text nervously, but after reading it, his face flushed.
taking back another swing of his flask, he shuddered.
‘you looked really good today ;)) wanna call again tomorrow? <3’
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#( 𝑣𝑚𝑝. ) 𝑔𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑐 、、#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x y/n#leon kennedy x you#resident evil#leon vendetta#resident evil x you#resident evil x reader#x reader#resident evil smut
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Busted and Blue 。𖦹 ⋆。
Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/53e664d9847274a4f9cb045ce0165622/f44f2a5f9f0979b9-04/s540x810/2f79d6976c1859c72e61260240450fe1c2a0acb7.jpg)
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It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..
Wc: 3,727
Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz
An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚
Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)
Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33
“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.
Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”
You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.
Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.
“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.
But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.
“Wait!”
“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.
Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.
You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”
You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.
“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”
You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.
“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”
Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.
He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.
And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.
Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.
But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.
If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.
Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.
Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.
With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.
You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.
But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.
Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.
And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!
You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.
You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.
“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.
You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.
Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.
“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”
He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.
After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.
You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.
You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.
Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.
“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”
They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.
Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.
“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.
“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.
“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.
You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.
You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.
There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.
“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.
After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.
You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.
It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.
There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.
He wants to protect you, he needs to.
It’s his job as your boyfriend.
Your future husband.
Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.
But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.
He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.
“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”
Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.
He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.
He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.
…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.
That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.
The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.
But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.
Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.
They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.
He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.
It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.
“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.
Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.
And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.
Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.
Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.
“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.
Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”
“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”
“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.
But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.
When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.
It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.
“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.
“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.
Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.
Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.
So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.
“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.
You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.
You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.
“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”
You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.
“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.
You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.
“Dollie? You up here babe?”
You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.
….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.
“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“
The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.
You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.
Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.
“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.
“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.
Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.
“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”
When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.
You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.
Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.
He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.
“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”
Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.
“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”
Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.
“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”
There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.
It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.
“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.
“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.
His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.
Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.
He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.
Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.
He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.
“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”
Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.
“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.
And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.
Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”
Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”
Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.
But he hesitates to knock.
He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:
First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.
Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.
Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.
Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.
You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.
Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.
His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.
He knocks at the door.
•······················•
There’s a knock at the door.
A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.
You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.
You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.
“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.
“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.
“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.
You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.
You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.
You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.
“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”
Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.
Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.
The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.
The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.
He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.
Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.
You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.
This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.
Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.
It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.
“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.
“..Do what?”
“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.
Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back
There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.
You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.
Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.
You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.
You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.
While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.
“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.
Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”
You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”
“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.
After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.
While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.
Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.
He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.
Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.
That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.
- -
“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”
“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”
Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.
“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.
Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”
- -
If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.
As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.
Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.
Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.
If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.
Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.
He can’t help it. You make him whole.
He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.
Because you’re his love; his life.
#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#Spotify#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#outer banks#outer banks fic#outer banks imagine#obx x reader#obx x you
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kiss him with chocolate lips
billy hargrove x fem!reader
gif by @biillys
word count: 1,837
warnings: swearing, some sexual references/themes, allusions to sexy adult things, play-fighting, reader and billy being in love and that love language is being little shits to each other (also acts of service), smooching and one use of the word saliva
synopsis: you decide to bake cookies, and billy decides he must be included, but you’d never let your cookies perish in return for an insatiable man.
a/n: hii!! i came up with a few lines of dialogue for billy a little bit ago, and then they just sat in my notes app because i couldn’t think of what to do with them. halfway through writing this, something i wanted to be sweet and silly, i felt lost and didn’t know how to end it or where to go with it, and started looking for inspiration. but then it came to me! and i’m very happy with how this turned out. i hope you like it! happy reading <33
————
Your hands are buried wrist deep in cookie dough, because you got sick of the shitty spatula not doing its job.
You keep folding it in and over itself, trying to get all the chocolate chips and dry ingredients properly combined. You feel like the cookies just don’t turn out right if you don’t get in there and make sure it’s the way it’s meant to be.
You reach over and grab a handful of mini chips to toss in your mouth. You have this mixture of regular size ones, minis, and chunks that you swear by.
“You missed the bowl.”
A pair of large, warm hands slide over your waist, pinkies grazing over that spot where your pelvis dips because they know that’s your ticklish spot and just want to see you squirm.
“Fuck off, prick.”
Billy smiles into the soft and slightly sweaty skin of your neck, peppering kisses in a trail from your collarbone to your earlobe. You nudge him with your shoulder, trying to ward him off.
He licks a stripe up the back of your neck. And if you weren’t making an effort to look annoyed by his presence, your eyes might’ve just rolled back into your head.
Instead you let out a sort of strangled howl to emphasize your agony. You are busy, after all. Making cookies you know he’ll eat before you can have any for yourself. You’ll have to hide some this time.
You elbow Billy in the stomach, but his hands never leave your hips. He’s chuckling lightly, enjoying every minute of teasing you and being the biggest nuisance he can be.
“I should castrate you,” you say, rubbing your nose with your forearm to avoid spreading cookie dough all over your face.
Billy laughs into your neck, the tip of his nose cold against your warm skin. “Oh, but you like that part of me too much, baby.”
You scoff. “Dick.”
He places a finger on your chin so that you’ll meet his gaze. “Exactly.”
“I hate you,” you say, your eyes boring into his and saying anything but. They’re practically twinkling just looking at him.
He hooks another finger under your chin and coaxes you closer, “I know,” he smiles, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that tastes like chocolate chips.
The flavor being on his mouth makes you pull away in shock. You put your hands on your hips and feign being absolutely appalled and ashamed.
“You come in here, on my ass, when yours has been fillin’ up on chocolate for how long?” You raise up on your tippy toes, trying your best to get in his face. He bends slightly to make it easier for you.
His gaze drags over each of your pretty features in that way he knows gives you goosebumps. “You think you just get to eat ‘em all or something?”
You press your hand to his chest. “I bought the damn things, Hargrove. And I think, as the woman making the cookies, I’m entitled to eat as many chocolate chips as I want.”
Billy leans in again and kisses you, but this time it’s slow, too slow, and sensual. The kind that feels like it lasts forever but in reality was a few seconds. One that really should last forever. It makes your brain go all fuzzy.
He drags his hand up your spine and pulls back. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your stomach flips, your blood rushing to all the important parts of your body because he knows just what buttons to push and you despise him for it. Cocky little shit.
“Now look who can use his manners,” you say, your voice taking on a sing-songy lilt. Billy grins at you, biting his lip, and then returns to his place behind you.
You both settle down, quieting and melting into each other's presence. Billy watches over your shoulder as you pour in more chocolate chips. He knows you always hate it when people cheat you out of your chocolate.
“I need a tray, B, can you get one for me?”
He pats your ass and moves to the designated cabinet without answering. He rips out a sheet of parchment paper without you having to ask. You always say that the bottoms don’t burn as easily that way, or you quote something from a cooking show you watched on tv that morning.
He brings the cookie sheet back to you and then pushes up so he’s sitting on the counter next to you, bare thighs pressing into the cold stone.
You pass him the rest of the chocolate chips to snack on and bend to kiss his knee. He blushes. You’ve been together for a few years now, but each time you give him affection in small, uncommon ways, it makes him feel like teenage boy.
Billy watches you separate the dough into even-ish chunks before sliding it all into the oven. He tilts his head back and tosses the rest of the chocolate chips into his mouth before hopping down from the counter.
He grabs your hips when he sees you move toward the sink. “Uh, uh. Go sit, mama. I’ll take care of it.” He knows you’re going to push back, and before you can he picks you up and places you in the living room.
You let out a small huff and walk right back to your starting point. There aren’t even that many dishes to wash anyway, but what’s the fun in cooperating with him?
“Billy.”
“Hm?” He’s squeezing soap all over the dishes you’d already pre-rinsed.
“Go sit your pretty ass down and let me do this.” You hear him laugh over the sound of the tap running and roll your eyes. He feels it. And he ignores you, squeezing out a sponge.
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull, trying to lift him up the way he had with you just moments before. You manage to heave him up just enough that his toes leave the tile and he cackles at your effort to be such an adorable irritant.
He looks at you over his shoulder, your brow creased in concentration, the tip of your tongue sticking out just slightly. “How’s that workin’ out for ya, princess?”
“It’s not my fault you’re so big and heavy and strong.”
His ego practically skyrockets, his brain picking out any bit of flattery you’ll offer him.
“Big and strong, huh?”
You cross your arms and spin around, hiding your wide smile before he can catch a glimpse at it. At how pleased you are to have riled him up. You let out a little petulant “Hmph!” and start to pad away. You know what’s coming though, and you try to pick up speed before you can be captured.
Billy’s arms are around your thighs in seconds. He’s managed to turn you around and lift you up, throwing you over your shoulder like it’s nothing, like this is a normal daily task. “I’ll show you big and strong, pretty baby.”
You beat playfully on his lower back, fighting off a fit of giggles. “Billy! Put me down motherfucker!” He’s laughing too, all too pleased with himself for being able to get you like this.
He pulls you down so you’re hanging onto his front and starts maneuvering you onto the couch. Your every nerve ending lights up when you feel Billy’s hand at the crown of your head, cradling you as he sets you down.
The gentle manner in which he handles you does not correlate to the way he kisses you.
Billy settles between your legs, grabbing your arms and coaxing them around his neck. He’s giving you a job, giving you instructions, and it makes your brain go quiet. Honing in on him, and nothing else. He’s all you can see, all you can smell, all you’re capable of thinking about.
One of his hands slips beneath your t-shirt and settles against the dip of your spine, allowing him to pull you upward, allowing him to mold your body to his without you even having to put in the effort to arch your back and meet him.
The other slips into the hair at the base of your neck, fingernails scratching over your scalp to get the goosebumps going, the heel of his hand rubbing determinedly at your skin, massaging it and reveling in the heat radiating off of you.
Each time you try to say something, Billy kisses you harder, laughing into your mouth. He’s getting sloppy, losing himself in the taste of chocolate and lip balm and you.
He sucks on your bottom lip, nips at it with his teeth, and it makes you let out a small, quiet moan. Billy slaps your thigh and you pull his hair. He groans, loud and unashamed. He shoves his knee in between your legs, meets the hottest, softest part of you and—
The timer on the microwave goes off.
Your cookies are finished.
You pull back from Billy’s warm mouth, because you can’t let your cookies burn. What kind of monster would you be, letting cookies perish for a man? Absolutely not.
His lips are still in a pout and there’s a string of saliva connecting the both of you.
Instead of laughing like you want, you groan, “Oh dear Christ, ew, Billy.”
While he’s processing that you just said “ew” to him, you slide out from underneath his arms and race to pull the finished cookies from the oven.
You’re carefully picking each cookie up and setting them on a cooling rack so they’ll become edible—without burning the skin off the roof of your mouth—sooner rather than later.
Billy finally appears in the kitchen and puts a hand against the counter. His brow creases like he’s just been told something very serious, though his mussed hair and flushed cheeks say otherwise.
“Did you just say ew to me, baby?” An evil smirk starts to appear on his face and he closes in on you. “You definitely don’t think it’s gross when I spit on your—”
You shove a warm cookie into his mouth before he can finish that sentence. His face takes on a comical expression of his surprise, but he happily chews on the melting chocolate chips you’ve provided him with. He does like the warm cookies the best.
You reach for a towel to clean off his face, but he moves too fast.
Billy is kissing you all over, your neck, your collarbones, your cheeks and forehead. He’s doing his damndest to get chocolate all over you as payback for your teasing little attitude.
“Billy!” you squeal, giggling and shrieking with joy.
“Take it back! Take back that fucking ew, princess, and you can go!” He’s cackling, tickling your sides.
“Okay, okay! I love your nasty ass, I do! Let me go!”
He removes his fingers from your hips and starts to wipe off your face with a wet cloth while you both catch your breath.
“Damn right you do.”
————
tagging: @clovermunson (i got you bestie)
please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
#savannah’s fics#billy hargrove#billy hargrove x reader#billy hargrove x fem!reader#billy hargrove x you#billy hargrove x female reader#billy hargove imagine#billy hargrove comfort#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fic#billy hargrove fluff#billy hargrove fanfiction#billy hargrove oneshot#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove x y/n#billy hargrove x fem!reader fluff
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Top Yandere mafia boss x subordinate male darling~! ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/93dcc01bfa35148c6bf07b785e55a463/ad12df1d9075c53d-3b/s540x810/0f3d6f66d70ebfef03898a81825b6dae114830aa.jpg)
WC:. 2.3k
Tags: nipple play, anal creampies, daddy!kink, hair pulling, lap dog male reader, dark themes, cock rings, edging, office sex, little feminization <33
A/N I’ve always wanted to participate in Kinktober! Unfortunately my writers block doesn’t wanna let me do a story every day so I’ve taken inspiration to write a story a week instead!
You were a young man when you joined his group. He offered you a place to stay and food, even offered you affection that no one had ever given you before. You did his bidding finding yourself being named as “the bosses marionette” because you’d put your morals aside all willing to do every little thing he asked of you, and in return he took care of you.
The don kept you as his lover even going as far as obsessing over you to the point he’d anything for you, if gifts and praises didn’t keep you to him then he’d simply manipulate and flashlight you into depending on him and him alone, you were his boy, his lover, His.
Currently you were laying across the couch in his office watching how his pen moved under his muscles, how the ink glided across a few documents he was finishing up, you sat painfully aware of the arousal between your thighs, unable to come due to the cock ring around your base having you in full misery “you promised you’d let me come five minutes ago sir~!” You’d croak out to him in pathetic agony.
“I thought I told you boy, you’ll come whenever I permit it, now hush. I’m trying to work” his tone was harsh and cruel to you leaving you know choice but to get up limping over to his desk and crawling in his lap like a baby, jumping your bulge on his cock making sure your lips were pressed against his ear “mhm fuck sir!” You’d squeak out extra high pitched just wanting him to fuck the orgasm out of you.
“You’ve got no damn clue what you’re doin, boy” his hand possessively reaches for your ass, sitting and clenching the pen in his other hand holding you close with his right, massaging your gloves through the fabric of your slacks, letting out a long sigh before he buries his face into your pecs making sure to kiss over your nipples feeling them waking up under your button up.
At least I know someone’s happy to see me. You can’t ever be a patient boy can you? Mh I think I spoiled you t’much” he murmurs against your shirt not caring if he left wet spots as he starts sucking at the material bitting and nibbling on your nipple “that hurts daddy!” You finally call him the word you know he loses it for “so I’m your daddy hm?”
He purrs out with a grin looking up at you from your chest feeling how your cock pulses through your jeans against his thigh making him sit his pen down , himself getting half hard in his own well tailored slacks. “You’ve got my full attention now baby boy so tell daddy what you want”
“Want you to get me off daddy, fuck me please, I need it so bad—“ you can’t help but plead and gasp in his ear feeling his hands on your ass rutting your bulge into his thigh feeling your veins pop more under the cock ring. “All in good time baby, you take it slow like a good boy or I’ll leave you hard and alone” he threatened with his teeth pressuring and teasing your nipples making wet spots on your white shirt.
“Fuck! Hah daddy-“ you straighten up in his lap gripping his hair tightly and hold his face in your pecs hissing feeling your cock throbbing nearly having you doubling over from the heat in your stomach. “Quiet down boy” he speaks slipping his hand off your ass reaching around to palm at the bulge inside of your slacks, just grinning up at you as he works your body torturing you with pleasure having a love sick look in his eyes.
“I’m not gonna let you touch me if you don’t fuck me!” You huff out acting out against him and pulling away from him crawling over and getting up on his best having wet spots in your boxers and another wet spot around your chest but not from pre cum, but his spit. He looks over at you livid and glaring at you watching how you’d unbutton your shirt slowly staring at him.
“Such a fucking ungrateful brat I’ve created, listen here boy, you’re mine baby, and you’ll listen too, won’t you?” He coos with his voice as smooth as velvet standing up and holding your chin making you look up at him before he start unbuttoning your shirt himself staring at how hard your nipples are, all perky and n/c.
“Y-es daddy, I’m sorry~” your cheeks and lips squish under his harsh grip pouting and pushing tears but not letting them escape as you sniffle having a bulge in your slacks twitching against the zipper making you go insane rubbing your thighs together. “Fine, since I’m feeling bad for keeping you edged and needy all day in my office, I’ll fuck you baby doll”
“Thank you” you feel his hand release your chin slipping down to your legs pushing you back onto the desk tracing his fingers up your bare chest tweaking your nipples and rubbing your sides kissing down your belly and your belly button before tugging at your belt, undoing it watching the bulge in your boxers with a large sticky wet spot staring back, pulling your boxers down watching how your cock springs forward all red and angry looking with precum oozing out like a leak whimpering on your back.
“There, there baby, you ok? Does it feel better now that you’ve got those tight little boxers off” his hands holds your thighs massaging them before giving your balls a tug “oh!” You tense up almost cumming in the spot it it wasn’t for the pretty pink cock ring he forced on you having you
“There’s those pretty noises, thought you were goin mute on me baby?” He mocks you before he reaches down to his drawer of his desk pulling out a little bottle of lube he keeps around his manor just incase you need a good fucking to put you back in line. “Spread those thighs nice and wide, doll” his hands guiding your though open and sitting the bottle of lube down long enough to get his slacks off, his cock only being an inch longer than yours.
“Take this ring off me daddy, pretty please” you lay begging him laying on his desk with your thighs wide and your shirt fully unbuttoned having your cock against your stomach arching when he squirts lube onto his fingers and spread your cheeks prodding around til he found your rim. One finger pressing and pushing inside you curling and searching around for your prostate just staring you straight focusing solely on pleasing you while he stares at your face.
“The ring has to stay on baby and you know this so don’t try N’ convince me doll” before you can beg him anymore a second finger gets inserted into you, spreading and scissoring your gummy walls trying to massage your rim, trying to keep you from puckering up when his fingers brush against your sweet spot having you shuddering with a thin layer of precum glossing over your slit leaving you fully edged.
“But daddy?~” you pout your bottom lip arching your back all desperate to have him get you off, clenching up around his second finger when it pushes knuckle deep finally massaging your prostate having you squirming making him smile in delight slipping his third finger inside you making your rim burn “no but’s baby, you take what I give you”
“I’m ready for your cock now” looking up at him with your lips quivering starting to feel the back of the button up loosely hanging on your shoulders sticking to the skin on your back from the sweat you were building up wanting to close your thighs but knowing if you did then he’d be mad. “You think you are baby?” He asks speaking to you like a child who doesn’t know what they want.
“I know sho daddy” his fingers slide in and out squelching a little from the lube with his cuffs rolled up looking down at his hairy forearms watching them work you between your thighs frowning at the ache between your legs. “I think daddy’s boy is ready too” he hums pulling his fingers back out leaving you empty and gaping with your greedy hole clenching the air.
He starts unzipping his fly, undoing the button and pulling his pants down letting them fall down around his ankles before his fingers find their way under his waistband pulling down his boxers leaving his cock half hard standing at a proud seven inches, his hand gripping the base of his own cock staring at you laying on your back all needy on his desk making him chuckle stroking his cock fully hard.
“Stay nice and still pretty boy” his cock gets aligned with your hole pressing his tip against your rose bud, nudging it and rubbing his cock reaching his hand over to grab the lube and squirt some on his cock making sure he’s lubing the two of you up, his hand gripping your hips and pulling you back and pushing inside you having your thighs wrapped around his hips. “Ow- that hurts”
You feel a burn piercing your body pushing the air from your lungs leaving your mouth agape feeling your rim getting torn to accommodate his size. “Fuck baby, I got you” he murmurs planting himself on top of you on his desk not caring about the ink being knocked over as he nuzzles his face into your skin kissing being gentle with your chest for now, trying to get you to calm down.
“Y-ou can move daddy” your voice cracks when you speak feeling your hand finding his hair gripping it tight making him moan against the nipple he was kissing thrusting into you lazily on top of you with his arms on either side of your head having you pinned down under him when he fucks you.
“Such a slick little cunt” he groans licking and sucking on the other nipple with your thighs trembling on either side of him while he fucks you, your gummy walls squishing around his base, spreading all warm with your rim twitching around him tugging his hair feeling your cock leaking precum between the two of you angrily with your cock head rubbing against the fabric of his button up having your arms still inside the sleeve of your shirt.
“S’ notta cunt daddy~!” You mewl gripping his hair tighter hissing and arching like a cat beneath him feeling your thighs shaking on his hips. “Yeah it is baby, all tight and wet clenching on this cock” his drool spreads around on your chest making it look like glass when he sucks on the skin around your nipples, bitting at the skin letting his tongue trace over the bud, teasing and building up to it before he nibbles down onto you.
The sound of the desk creaking back and forth in his office having your eyes all delirious with blown pupils half fucked out and cramping from needing to come, “daddy— seriously I’m- not gonna make it~” you gasp out tearing up with your cheeks going rosy feeling his cock head rubbing your deepest parts bucking into you before his cock head finally hits your prostate.
“Last a little longer baby, promise I’m gonna make you feel so good-so,so good, just hold on a little longer” soon his breathing picks up making his voice shake on top of you fucking you faster with his lips moving and murmuring against your nipples having them all sensitive like your cock while he fucks you making you see stars feeling one of his arms reaching down between the two of you reaching to tug at the cock ring around your base.
“O-h can I cum now daddy?” You moan out asking him trying your best not to come on the spot when he takes the ring off wanting to make him happy and be good for him, knowing that would be the only way he’d let you cum. “Being such a good boy for me, knew you were a good boy, cum for me baby” he coos to you smiling against your chest putting more of his weight on you and going rapid with his thrusts fucking into your sweet spot going deeper and deeper inside you having the sound of wet skin on skin filling up his study making him look up at you now on edge himself with his eyes practically h sing hearts in them.
Before anymore moans could strangle through your mouth a sharp heat shoots through your body all the way to your tip cumming all over yourself having ropes shoot onto his button up spilling messily between the two of you while he just grunts slipping both hands down for your thighs to grip them tight and hold you pulling you back into his cock feeling him swell up and pulse inside you signaling his own imposing orgasm.
“Gon—ah cum baby boy” his voice echos in your ears with your teary eyes having your vision blurred and half rolled back feeling a heat pushing itself back inside your body when he orgasms finding his own release inside your ass. His come flooding your insides leaving them all painted and stuffed from his semen. “Ah-da-ddy!”
You let out soft pouts and hums underneath him looking feeling his whole weight on top of you blinking as he looks up at you finally panting on top of you with you in the middle of your after glow with his hands just kneading your thighs from under holding you extra close before rasping out.
“You ruined my shirt baby? I really liked that shirt”
#sleep-0-deprived#sleep 0 deprived#kinktober x male reader#kinktober 2024#x male reader#x male reader smut#bottom male reader#sub male reader#mlm ns/fw#gay mlm#yandere cw#yandere male x male reader#yandere male x reader#yandere mlm#top yandere#dom yandere#top male yandere#x sub reader#x bottom reader#x sub male reader#sub male#top character#yandere oc#yandere character#yandere oneshot#Yandere Kinktober#male yandere x male reader#yandere x male darling#yandere x male reader#yandere obsession
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Could you do an insta blurb with Anna Paul as a face claim? <33
never give up - ln4
my first lando blurb !! i was really excited to write for him so let me know your thoughts about this or send requests !
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 4,836 others
yourinstagram starting the job of my dreams tomorrow 😭😭😭😭 see you soon bahrain 🏁
view all 190 comments
username1 omg congratulations ma friend !! ♥︎ by author
username2 all of those years of watching race cars finally paid off ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram now i’m going to be making tiktoks for them HOW IS LIFE REAL
username3 PLEASE FEED US WITH GOOD CONTENT
↳ yourinstagram your wish is my command 🫡🫡🫡
maxverstappen1 Please don’t make us do any kind of dance… ♥︎ by author
↳ maxfan1 HES ALREADY COMPLAINING HELP
↳ yourinstagram you don’t make that decision sir
username3 i believe in the f1 fan to working to f1 pipeline now
oscarpiastri Hello new best friend ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram HI BESTIEEEEE
↳ oscarfan1 counting on the oscar content
landonorris Welcome abroad 🥰 ♥︎ by author
↳ landofan1 whats with that emoji landoeeee
↳ yourinstagram i’m readyyyy
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liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 338,504 others
lando.jpg touchdown in bahrain. @yourinstagram forced me to try matcha (awful experience)
view all 1,368 comments
landofan1 HE REMEMBERED THIS ACCOUT WE CHEER
oscarpiastri You’re a matcha girl at heart
↳ yourinstagram you’re so right my dearest pastry
↳ oscarfan1 LOVE THEM
landofan2 not lando being a matcha hater 😭
landofan3 yn in the last picture she’s so cuuuute
username1 lando posting a picture of yn 👀 i bet they’re dating
↳ landofan1 you must be new here lando posts literally everyone
maxverstappen1 I spot a Redbull jacket, thank you for picking favorites already @yourinstagram
↳ yourinstagram don’t flatter yourself okay. and tell checo i need both of you for rapid fire questions asap
↳ charles_leclerc I’m getting her ferrari red stuff soon
↳ lando.jpg she’s papaya heart, sorry losers
↳ username2 HEEELP😭
username3 looks like all the drivers get along with yn it’s so fun to see
georgerussell63 Why did you steal YN I needed to run something by her
↳ yourinstagram if by that you mean you need to know which one of your memes is going viral rn, check your messages
↳ username4 PLEASEEEEE 😭
username5 this comment section feels like a gc with all of them and i love it
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liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 20,736 others
yourinstagram tifosi for jeddah. let’s gooo @/charles_leclerc, @/olliebearman ❤️ and sending big hugs to mr smooth operator @/carlossainz55, hope you recover sooooonnn
view all 466 comments
username1 SLAYYYY
charlesfan1 YAAS YN IS ON OUR SIDEEE
username2 such a cool jacket omg ♥︎ by author
scuderiaferrari We’re all Tifosi at heart 🙌
↳ yourinstagram love you ferrari admin
landofan1 i know lando won’t be happy
olliebearman Love you 🫶🫶🫶 ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 AWEEEE OLLIE
iamrebeccad 😍 ♥︎ by author
alexandrasaintmleux Ferrari girls >>> 🥰 ♥︎ by author
↳ charlesfan1 i love the ferrari wags sm
landofan2 lando complaining in 3..2..1
landonorris It’s always tifosi or gives you wings but never papaya
↳ oscarpiastri Ouch
↳ yourinstagram top cry babies of the grid: the mclaren boys
↳ landofan1 😭😭😭😭😭
↳ danielricciardo Can you blame them? They’re like 7 ♥︎ by author, georgerussell63, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55
↳ landonorris Can’t hear the haters
maxverstappen1 And who got double podium?
↳ yourinstagram you’re so annoying omg
↳ maxfan1 HEEEELP
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liked by yourinstagram, landofan1 and 58,624 others
f1gossip Lando Norris enjoys Australia with mystery woman ahead of the Grand Prix this weekend
view all 409 comments
landofan1 HEEELP
landofan2 my brother in christ that’s yn
username1 mystery woman 😂😂 @/yourinstagram
landofan3 iconic duo
landofan4 i’m going to say what everyone is thinking: i ship them
↳ landofan1 HEEEELP
username2 we need the teaaaaaaa
yourinstagram i wonder who could that be ♥︎ landonorris
↳ username1 so mysterious
yourinstagram why does this look like i’m showing you receipts of something shady that you did @landonorris
↳ landonorris You look so done with my lies lol
↳ landofan2 WHAT ARE YALL DOING HERE
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 49,846 others
yourinstagram AND THAT'S A WIN FOR THE SMOOTH OPERATOR AFTER THE OPERATION ‼️ congratulations carlitosss, don't let the papaya fool you, i was rooting for you
view all 422 comments
username1 LETS GOOO
username2 this is such a cool picture ♥︎ by author
mclaren Our papaya heart just broke 💔
↳ yourinstagram NOOOOO
scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI ❤️
↳ yourinstagram YAAAS
username3 she really has the coolest job in the world
landofan1 lando finally made her wear papaya 😭 ♥︎ by author
landonorris I was in the podium too, you know?
↳ charles_leclerc Me too
↳ yourinstagram did you win?
↳ landofan2 CLOCK THEM
iamrebeccad 😍😍😍 ♥︎ by author
lilyzneimer Beautyyy
↳ yourinstagram PICTURE CREDITS TO BABY LILY !!
carlossainz55 The smooth operation 💪 ♥︎ by author
↳ landonorris I'm getting my apendix removed
↳ yourinstagram DO NOT
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liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo and 689,462 others
landonorris australia was nice :)
view all 3,045 comments
landofan1 BABYYYYY
landofan2 LANDOOOO THE LAST PIC
username1 yn what are you doing here
carlossainz55 Why don't you post a picture of my win?
↳ landofan1 😭😭😭
↳ yourinstagram bc i'm prettier ♥︎ by author
oscarpiastri Australia: the best country in the world
↳ yourinstagram you're australia's treasure 👐
landofan3 POSTING YN??? ON MAIN??
↳ landofan1 bestiesss
↳ landofan2 i had to double check this was actually his main
username2 he's in love with yn
georgerussell33 crushcrushcrush
↳ username1 he's so strange
yourinstagram i like being each other's personal photographers
↳ landofan1 SOOOO YN TOOK LANDO'S PICS
↳ landofan3 they're in love
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liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri and 632,099 others
landonorris i didn't get that podium but i did get you some spam
view all 3,102 comments
landofan1 BOYFRIEND MATERIAL
username1 when will lando nowins ends
landofan2 YN AGAIN?????
mclaren 🧡
danielricciardo Is this a YN fan account? ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram IT SO IS RIGHT
↳ landonorris Can't hear the haters
username2 it's so obvious that those two are in a relationship
↳ landofan1 don't be weird they're friends and yn kinda works for them
↳ landofan2 to be fair yn doesn't really work for the drivers, she works for the f1 pr team
carlossainz55 👀
↳ landofan1 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
yourinstagram thank you for the night walk and the pic buddyyyy ♥︎ by author
↳ landofan1 NOT BUDDY HELP
↳ username1 even i felt hurt by that friendzone
↳ landofan2 lando was found crying
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liked by olliebearman, landonorris and 58,264 others
yourinstagram one moth living the dream life while having the dream job 🥺 let’s go shangai 🇨🇳
view all 501 comments
username1 im so jealous rn
username2 teach me your ways
lewishamilton 🖤 ♥︎ by author
maxfan1 REDBULL JACKET SLAY
landofan1 lando crying over the redbull gear soon
username3 traveling the world befriending the drivers and getting free merch this is really THE DREAM ♥︎ by author
lilyzneimer 💙 the bestttt!
↳ yourinstagram i literally lysm baby lily
↳ oscarpiastri Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you
↳ yourinstagram the mclaren boys being cry babies, exhibit B
alex_albon Why am I missing from the third pic?
↳ georgerussell63 We we’re gossiping about you ♥︎ by author, oscarpiastri, landonorris, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1
↳ yourinstagram exactly
username4 how does it feel to live my dream
maxverstappen1 Great great jacket
↳ landonorris i’m burning it
↳ landofan1 HEEEELP 😭
landonorris Best season so far 🫶🫶🫶 ♥︎ by author
↳ landofan2 LANDOOOOOO????
↳ landofan3 he’s down bad awe
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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 159,635 others
mclaren A very special guest joins the papaya garage today 🧡 #MiamiGP
tagged: yourinstagram
view all 7,937 comments
landofan1 AHHHHH
username1 WAG vibes
landofan2 since when does lando have access to the mclaren acc
username2 she looks amazing
lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶
↳ mclaren Our other fave 🙌
↳ landofan2 mclaren hyping their wags up so trueeeee
redbullracing Give her back
↳ username1 the girls are fighting
↳ mclaren Never
landonorris 😍😍😍😍 ♥︎ by yourinstagram
↳ landofan1 CONTROL IT
↳ landofan2 JUST KISS HER YOU FOOL
yourinstagram GO PAPAYA BOYS 🧡🧡
↳ landonorris boy*
↳ oscarpiastri Cry cry cry
↳ landofan3 IM YELLING 😭😭😭
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liked by yourinstagram, danielricciardo and 3,122,342 others
landonorris WWE FUCKING DID IT. P1 🏆
view all 49,687 comments
landofan1 IM STILL SOBBING WTF
landofan2 HE DID IT LITTLE LANDO NORRIS DID ITTTT
oscarpiastri Well done man 👏👏👏 ♥︎ by author
alex_albon Congrats!!! 💪👏 ♥︎ by author
mclaren PROUD 🧡🧡🧡
username1 this man is going to party like an animal tonight
landofan3 whoever or whatever put a fire on his ass to win THANK YOU
maxverstappen1 You had a great motivation to win. Congrats 👏 ♥︎ by author
↳ username2 HUUUUUH
lewishamilton WELL DONE ♥︎ by author
yourinstagram IM STILL CRYING 😭😭😭
↳ maxverstappen1 Because now you’ll have to go out with him? THIS COMMENT IS NO LONGER AVAILABLE
↳ landofan1 MAX WTF WE ALL SAW THAT
yourinstagram CONGRATULATIONS LAN 🧡🧡🧡 ♥︎ by author
↳ landofan2 when the camera focused on her after lando crossed the line 😩😩 my delusional ass is living
↳ username1 these two will be a thing before the season ends
↳ landonorris My good luck charm ❤️
↳ landofan3 LANDO DONT DO THIS TO ME
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liked by landofan1, landofan2 and 16,936 others
f1gossip Lando Norris get cozy with mysterious woman after Miami GP win
view all 209 comments
landofan1 OMFGGGG
landofan2 CAUGHT IN 4K
username1 who is thissssss
landofan3 IF THIS IS NOT YN I DONT WANT IT
username2 wbk he’s always wildinggggg
landofan4 guys i think this is yn???? she posted stories celebrating with lando
↳ landofan1 omg i don’t want to be delusional
↳ landofan2 AND REMEMBER MAX DELETED COMMENT ????
landofan5 can somebody from the grid spill the beans about his
↳ landofan1 george where are you ?????
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liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and 1,390,180 others
landonorris I’ll remember this forever. Thank you everyone ❤️
view all 10,252 comments
landofan1 AHHHH
landofan2 THE SECOND PIC HELLO????
mclaren We always believed in you 🧡
landofan3 THATS LITERALLY YN IN THE SECOND PIC
oscarpiastri I bet this was your favorite weekend ever ♥︎ by author
↳ landofan1 WHAT DO YOU KNOW
georgerussell63 You finally convinced her?
↳ landonorris And did
↳ landofan2 WTF LET ME IN???? WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT
landofan4 LANYN IS REAL 😭😭😭😭
username1 yn is no better than me i would also fall for lando norris
landofan5 SEE YN WAS THE GIRL WITH HIM IN MIAMI
lewishamilton Did I miss something?
↳ georgerussell63 If you only checked your phone
↳ username2 HEEEELP
landofan6 SO THIS IS SO YN 😭 i really hope they’re together
maxverstappen1 Two things you had been waiting for: the win and the girl ♥︎ by author
↳ maxfan1 MAX HAS NO FILTER I CANT
↳ landofan1 SO THEY’RE TOGETHER
↳ landonorris 🥰
yourinstagram 🧡 ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 THATS ALL??? GIRL ADRESS THE RUMORS
↳ landofan1 GIVE US SOMETHING
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liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 76,398 others
yourinstagram imola, monaco, montreal 🤍
view all 503 comments
username1 forever jealous of your life
landofan1 A LOT OF LANDO HERE OMGGG
username2 the second pic, is she dating anyone? 👀
↳ landofan2 lando so true
georgerussell63 You're welcome for the Hello Kitty face mask ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 OF COURSE george would have hello kitty face masks
↳ yourinstagram thank u georgie
landofan3 this is basically a lando appreciation post ♥︎ by author
username3 i sense a soft launch
landofan4 landoyn is sooooo alive
mclaren Our favorite 🧡
lilyzneimer 🤩 ♥︎ by author
oscarpiastri Thank you for the tiktok tips?
↳ yourinstagram you think those were for free? you owe me dinner
maxverstappen1 Why there is no Redbull on this collage?
↳ yourinstagram you and checo have been pissing me off lately
↳ maxfan1 HEEEEELP
scuderiaferrari Some red in sight ❤️
↳ yourinstagram as it should
landonorris so pretty 😍 ♥︎ by author
↳ yourinstagram you talking about yourself?
↳ landonorris nope 😍
↳ landofan1 STOOOOOOOP THIS
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liked by daniel3.jpg, yourinstagram and 348,922 others
lando.jpg happy :)
view all 5,039 comments
landofan1 AHHHHHH
landofan2 I JUMPED FROM MY SPOT
username1 wbk they're together
oscaspiastri Cuties
oscarpiastri Lily wrote the previous comment, not me
↳ oscarfan1 HEEEEELP
↳ yourisntagram this is why she's my favorite
landofan3 THIS REALLY CONFIRMS THEY'RE TOGETHER
username3 what if they're not together and everyone is just clowning 😭😭
carlossainz55 I've been replaced
↳ landofan1 HEEEELP
↳ landofan2 CARLANDO FOREVER
yourinstagram 🧡 ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 stop it with the orange hearts SAY SOMETHING
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liked by landonorris, olliebearman and 103,827 others
yourinstagram paps hard launched us before i could do it, but here’s our official instagram debut i guess 🧡
view all 2,099 comments
username1 AHHH FINALLY
username2 you've come a long way girl, from fan to working for f1 to dating a driver ♥︎ by author
landofan1 I KNEW ITTT I KNEW ITT
georgerussell63 We had been plotting this since you first met, btw ♥︎ by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1
↳ yourinstagram nosy bitches !!
↳ username1 HEEEEELP 😭
mclaren OUR PRAYERS HAD BEEN ANSWERED 🤩🤩🧡
↳ landofan2 the mclaren admin is soooo me
↳ yourinstagram stop mclaren admin im blushing
username3 slayest couple of the paddock already
oscarpiastri What happened to "my job comes first"?
↳ landonorris Mate do you want her to break up with me or something
↳ landofan1 😭😭😭😭
lilyzneimer Papaya girls stick together 💕 ♥︎ by author
↳ username1 queens of mclaren
↳ alexandrasaintmleux :(((
↳ yourinstagram i literally lysm alex
landonorris my girl my girl my girl my girl ❤️ ♥︎ by author
↳ maxverstappen1 We get it
↳ landonorris you're jealous bc she'll never wear redbull anymore
↳ yourinstagram 🥴🥴
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liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc and 1,092,388 others
landonorris Never back down never what? Never give up
view all 15,390 comments
landofan1 YELLING
landofan2 I CANTTTT
username1 i want what they have
olliebearman ❤️
mclaren Our parents 🧡
↳ landofan1 its me im actually the mclaren admin
danielricciardo YN blink twice if you need help
↳ georgerussell63 She just did I'm next to her
↳ landonorris Can't hear the haters
↳ landofan2 😭😭😭
username2 i need yn's manifestation methods
landofan4 THE HAND PLACEMENTS ???? LANDO' SMILE ?????
maxverstappen1 Poor girl
↳ maxfan1 LEAVE HIM ALONEEE
carlossainz55 My biggest condolences @/yourinstagram
↳ landofan1 they grid has one mission today and that is to attack lando
yourinstagram 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍 ♥︎ by author
yourinstagtam leave my baby alone assholes @/danielricciardo @/georgerussell63 @/maxverstappen1 @/carlossainz55
↳ carlossainz55 Don't baby him even more
↳ georgerussell63 cAnT hEar ThE hAtErS
↳ landonorris my girl my girl 😍
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfiction#lando norris smau#lando norris fic#ln4 x reader#ln4 x yn#lando norris x yn#lando norris fanfic#lando norris fake instagram#lando norris social media au#lando norris fluff#lando norris smut#ln4 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1#harrysfolklore#1k
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this is an edit of my drunken thought last night but
hockey player simon is in my head right now—
thinking about how you are watching from the seats closest to the rink, and startling when he body-slams an opponent against the glass protector only for your eyes to meet his when he pulled away with a quiet snarl and snapped his head up in his anger.
he couldn’t have truly seen you, you tell yourself. he’s caught up in the middle of a game, high off his adrenaline, so you are damn sure that he didn’t really catalogue the interaction. that it was a fluke—eyes meet without the conscious awareness from the brains, you know that.
but.
riley (41) somehow began to gravitate towards your end of the rink, only slipping away for assists or to catch his mark. sure, the seat you chose was close to the ones that are angled well to the goal so perhaps that’s why he kept coming back, but there’s something electrifying at seeing the way he scans the crowd during the two-minute breaks, stopping when his eyes finally rest on you, before he skates away.
it makes your heart flutter, blood jumping as your mind runs with imaginations. you try smothering the blooming hope that maybe, just maybe, this man you idolize somehow is attracted to you. that somehow, amidst the craze and the adrenaline, you were able to leave such an imprint on him.
but the game rages on, with specgru managing to carve a tie against their opponents with mactavish (91) scoring a point. it makes the arena shake as screams and jumps erupt from your side of the rink; horns blaring as victory now seemed to be on the horizon. even the goalie, price (2), runs to mactavish, tapping his bucket, fond even in his excitement.
time runs. you swallow, parched, your eyes flicking between the screens and the rink itself as the tension reached new heights. your friend holds your hand, her nails digging into your skin, but you don’t even notice as you clock in riley’s fast skating, his blades slashing against the ice with intense ferocity.
garrick (33) passed the puck, and riley receives it.
your throat constricts, your eyes going wide. you plant your feet onto the floor, unconsciously tensing your muscles. your eyes follow his move, watching the way he devours the space to get to the best shooting spot—that sliver of angle in front of you.
you watch with bated breath, palm over your chest, but it takes your friend shaking you to realize what’s going on.
the roaring of the stadium is all of a sudden muffled as your mind catches up to your eyes, now finding meaning to what exactly it is you’re seeing. your friend is screaming your name but you’re deaf to it all, focused only on the man before you.
riley, the man that he is, points at you. then he turns, swinging his lumber, sending the puck flying past the goalie’s legs and into the net.
it happened so fast—barely a second or two—riley’s point and his score—but it unfolded so clearly before your eyes and victory sings in your blood.
“what was that!?” your friend screeches, pulling you up now that the game has reached its end with the specgru claiming their second win.
you try to tell her that you don’t know, that you don’t even understand what the hell actually just happened, but your voice refuses to form and your mind is back to buffering and riley is still staring at you—
jesus.
he is still staring at you.
god—
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guys idek what this was but i woke up and saw bulletpoints of a thought so uhhh heres an attempt 😭
pt.02
mlist!
#the delusions are through the roof and you’re NOT going to @ me bc id actually kms if yall judged me 😭#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley#suns#q#hockey au
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dating tim drake would include
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/fdc243a276c35468b114f0ed4fcf7f8b/d6b362146a1ed516-0f/s540x810/d9fdbb1f3cda925593691beef7c2535f0027980e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bffea117b70ce93aa014cd2a2eee50a9/d6b362146a1ed516-65/s540x810/9379baae4199785fc823d14d07eaee5539e2dbc5.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/66d169a2ad6901121c12fbd4fdf92cf2/d6b362146a1ed516-fb/s540x810/e77244278de092e6236aa45879736cc247de174e.jpg)
• tim is really sweet. he’ll kiss you to welcome you home or say goodbye when he goes out on patrol and he’ll happily carry you to bed if you fall asleep on the sofa and makes sure to tell you that he loves you everyday.
• he hacks your computer sometimes (for good reasons though). like you’ll just turn on your computer/laptop and your background is changed to a picture of you and tim together. <33
• even though everyone knows that you’re dating he still gets quite flustered and is prone to blushing if you call him a pet name in front of others. (you’d definitely do this just to see him blush).
• tim has your coffee order memorized (no matter how complicated it is).
• tim is SUPER clingy when he’s sleepy, like he can be needy and just want to hug and kiss you all the time. they’re kinda sloppy because he’s tired but his lust for affection is still cute.
• he cuddles or hugs you any chance he gets to make up for the many hours he spends on his computer away from you.
• since he’s a detective, he notices every detail including anything off about yourself. if something is wrong he will notice immediately no matter how good you are at hiding it, afterward he’d do pretty much anything to make you feel better. (even leave his computer for a day or so).
• he notices everything about you. favorite flower, favorite color, he always seems to notice that you’re cold even before you do and wraps his jacket around you. that intense focus can be a lot, sometimes, a bit overwhelming even. but at the same time you’re touched that he just seems so interested in everything about you. he wants to learn every last detail about you and is willing to take the time to do so.
• tim works really hard and doesn’t keep regular sleep patterns as a result, which means it’s up to you to make sure he gets proper sleep most of the time. plus, you’re one of the few people he actually listens to since you’re basically his favourite person. <33
• you have to learn most of his sweet spots to use against him whenever you’re trying to drag him away from the computer for a break.
• he remembers important dates even if it’s last minute— he still remembers. anniversaries, birthdays, you name it and if it’s anything to do with you then he’ll remember it and usually buys the best gifts for you.
• he celebrates the most ridiculous anniversaries, and he always remembers them. like, “it’s been one year since the first time you held my hand” or “it’s been a month since we went to that fair and rode the ferris wheel”.
• he lets you play with his hair and it’s so entertaining, he doesn’t mind and finds it relaxing when you run your fingers through it, he always checks to see what he looks like after you’ve styled it whether it be a man bun, ponytail, or braids. you told him that he looked good in a loose ponytail once and you he didn’t take it out for whole day.
• the two of you get take out food at least once a week because tim cannot cook to save his life, he just gets too distracted and the food gets burnt. he will also take time just to eat with you and ask about your day rather than work or will watch tv with you.
• tim LOVES watching detective shows with you but but sometimes it can get annoying because will usually ruin the ending by telling you who the criminal is and the exact reasons for his motives so it’s difficult to ignore the fact he just destroyed the next 45 minutes for you.
• he’s a literal genius so if you need help with anything he is on it, he’s actually written your essays for you before but you know that you couldn’t pass them off as your own because it’s not your writing style and you redo them using his basic ideas. you’re very appreciative of his assistance but tell him he doesn’t need to do that for you. however, he shakes it off as if it was nothing.
• he loves you and your acceptance of his coffee loving and sleep-deprived ways. <33
#dc#dc comics#dc characters#dc universe#dcu#dc extended universe#dceu#dc animated universe#dcamu#robin iii#red robin#timothy drake#tim drake#robin iii x reader#red robin x reader#timothy drake x reader#tim drake x reader#robin iii x you#red robin x you#timothy drake x you#tim drake x you#robin iii imagine#red robin imagine#timothy drake imagine#tim drake imagine#robin iii smut#red robin smut#timothy drake smut#tim drake smut
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Bouquet Toss - MV1/33
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/032d88a0866f1a53e563bf3a360aaeba/dd7272c7a03de038-21/s540x810/f22608d9930ec14c345b9a121d6b18e37714e9a2.jpg)
Max Verstappen x reader
summary: You and Max attend a wedding, sharing moments of laughter and love, even some mischief with the bouquet toss.
Max's eyes darted across the bustling ballroom, taking in the sea of well-wishers and flashing cameras.
The wedding reception of his best friend, Charles Leclerc, was in full swing, and the atmosphere was electric with laughter and music.
He tugged at the collar of his tuxedo, feeling the heat of the room and the pressure of his role as best man.
In the corner, a waiter carefully balanced a tray of champagne flutes, weaving through the dance floor where couples twirled in a blur of color and light.
The scent of fresh flowers mingled with the warm aroma of a five-tiered wedding cake, drawing Max's gaze to the beautifully decorated table that dominated the space.
He spotted his girlfriend, you were chatting with Kika, your eyes sparkling with joy as you listened to your best friend talk.
You had a vision in your elegant gown, the fabric whispering softly against your skin as you moved.
your laughter was infectious, drawing smiles from everyone nearby. Max felt a swell of pride in his chest; you looked absolutely stunning.
Two years into their relationship, he knew he had found something special.
They had navigated the ups and downs of life in the fast lane, and here they were, sharing in the happiness of their friends' union.
As the band switched to a slower tune, Max took a deep breath and approached you, extending his hand.
"Care to dance?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his voice. You looked up at him, a playful smile playing on your lips, and placed your hand in his.
The music wrapped around them as they moved together, their bodies fitting like perfectly interlocking gears.
It was a moment of pure, unfiltered bliss in the midst of the chaos.
Max leaned closer, whispering, "Are you nervous about the bouquet toss?" You giggled, feeling his hand tightening around your waist.
"Should I be?" The playful banter was their usual dance, a dance that had grown familiar and comforting over the past two years.
The anticipation grew as the bride got ready for the bouquet toss, your cheeks flushed with happiness as you took your place in the center of the room.
As the music swelled, the crowd of single women around them grew denser, their excitement palpable.
You leaned into Max's embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
His arms tightened around you protectively, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to forget about the tradition unfolding before you.
The bouquet, a cascade of white roses, was tossed into the air with a flourish.
A cacophony of squeals filled the room as the flowers arced gracefully through the space.
With surprising agility, Max stepped back, allowing you to position yourself in the fray. You watched the bouquet's trajectory, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.
The bouquet descended, and as if in slow motion, you reached up, your hand outstretched. Time seemed to freeze as your fingertips brushed against the soft petals. Then, with a sudden jolt, the bouquet was in your grasp.
The room erupted in applause and cheers, the noise washing over you like a tidal wave. Max's eyes met yours, a look of pure shock and delight etched on his handsome face.
He stepped closer, taking the bouquet from your hands and holding it above your head like a prize.
"Looks like you've won the competition," he teased, his voice warm with affection. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "You're the only prize I need."
The tension between you grew, a thrilling undercurrent of possibility. The crowd parted, and Max took your hand again, leading you back to the dance floor.
As the music picked up, he twirled you around, the fabric of your gown billowing like a cloud around your legs.
The bouquet remained in your grasp, a symbol of the love and commitment that swirled around the room.
Throughout the rest of the evening, you both danced, mingled, and laughed with friends, the bouquet serving as a silent reminder of the future that might await you.
Max's hand never left yours, a constant reassurance that no matter what the next chapter held, you would face it together.
As the final song played, you looked into his eyes, the question unspoken but lingering in the air.
In that moment, as the lights dimmed and the music faded, Max pulled you in closer, the bouquet forgotten in the background.
He whispered, "I love you," the words resonated through your entire being.
The crowd melted away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the rhythm of the night and the promise of a life intertwined, as you leaned into him, feeling his heartbeat in sync with yours.
As the final notes of the song drifted away, Max leaned down and brushed a soft kiss against your cheek.
"Thank you for being here with me," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. You felt a warmth spread through you, a warmth that had nothing to do with the room's temperature.
You knew he wasn't just talking about the wedding. He was talking about the race, about every moment that had brought them here, to this dance floor, together.
The rest of the night was a whirlwind of congratulations for the happy couple, shared stories with friends, and lingering glances that held secrets only the two of you knew.
You and Max stole moments together when you could, his hand resting on the small of your back, the heat of his touch searing through the fabric of your dress.
With every laugh, every shared glance, you felt the bond between you grow stronger, more tangible.
As the party wound down and the last guests began to trickle out, Max took you aside, his eyes holding a question.
"Ready to go?" he asked, his voice low and intimate.
You nodded, feeling the weight of the bouquet in your hand, the petals soft against your skin.
It was time to leave the fairy tale wedding and return to the real world, but somehow, with Max by your side, it didn't seem so daunting anymore.
Together, you made your way to the hotel suite that had been reserved for the night. The door clicked shut behind you, and the outside world was left behind.
Max took the bouquet from your hands, placing it gently on the side table before turning to face you.
The air was thick with unspoken words, the promise of the future hanging between you like a shimmering veil.
He reached out, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw, his eyes searching yours.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice a gentle caress.
You took a deep breath, feeling the anticipation coil tightly in your stomach.
"I'm thinking…" you began, your voice a whisper, "I'm thinking that maybe it's our turn to write the next chapter."
Max's smile grew, a warm, genuine smile that lit up the room.
"Is that so?" He stepped closer, his body heat wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
"What does that chapter look like?" His eyes searched yours, hungry for every detail, every hope and dream.
You leaned into him, your heart racing. "It looks like us," you murmured, "You're racing in the future, and me cheering you on through every step".
Max's gaze softened, and he leaned in to kiss you, the tender touch of his lips sending sparks through your body.
The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as if he was trying to convey every feeling, every hope and fear, through the press of his lips against yours.
His hands found the zipper of your gown, easing it down, revealing the soft, bare skin beneath.
You gasped against his mouth as he kissed down your neck, his touch setting your body alight.
The bouquet on the side table was a silent witness to the passion that ignited between you.
Max's strong hands gently guided you to the bed, the softness of the mattress enveloping you as he laid you down.
The night was far from over, and the promise of forever was just beginning to unfold.
Masterlist
Btw: Requests are open for ideas so please write some. LOVE YOU!
#f1#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#max verstappen x yn#max verstappen f1#mad max#formula one#formula one x reader#formula one x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#mv33#mv1#max verstappen drabble#f1 one shot#rbr f1#red bull f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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