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misted-dream · 4 months ago

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BET YOU WANNA BE MINE ﹒⌗﹒🥀﹒౨ৎ˚₊‧ 재현 + fem!reader

in which . . . the last person you expected to show up in front of your door at midnight is jaehyun—your ex.

content&warnings | MDNI smut, profanity, mentions of dui, infidelity, angst bc exes, toxic themes (jaehyun is a red flag), oral f receiving, dirty talk, unprotected sex

word count | 3.2k

⋆.˚ . . . heavily inspired by roses by jaehyun of course

12:01AM

a knock sounds at your apartment door.

your tired feet shuffle slowly through the dimness of your living room, with the warm glow of the kitchen light spilling over.

a shadow bleeds through the gap beneath your door, blocking the hallway light in two different spots.

with the chain still attached, you twist the handle, opening the door only slightly.

you tilt your head, angling yourself to get a view of whoever’s standing on the opposite side.

…

without hesitation, you press your palm to the wooden surface, pushing on the door to shut it. hard.

“wait!” a voice calls from outside.

his voice calls from outside.

and you notice the door, in fact, isn’t shut when it should be by now; a shoe wedging in between the frame.

your body stills for a second, despite the alarms ringing in your head.

“is he here?” he asks, meekly.

for whatever reason, you decide to respond, “no.”

the ‘he’ in question is your current boyfriend, whom the ‘he’ outside your apartment right now knows enough about to render that question needlessly rhetorical. and useless.

you push harder on the door, trapping his foot tighter between the wooden board and its frame.

“can i just speak to you? 5 minutes,” he pleads, “5 minutes is all i need.”

you know him well enough that if you were to say ‘no’ to his bidding here, it’d be easy to assume he’d stay the night in the corridor outside—and then you’ll actually be fucked if your boyfriend saw him in that state tomorrow morning.

you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“move your goddamn foot.”

he does what you say; a part of him scared that you’re just gonna shut the door on him, but relief comes in the form of you standing there, the door swung open, and you looking straight at him.

“speak.”

he licks his bottom lip, glossing over it lightly. the bright lights overhead highlights his cheekbones, sculpting his face like a statue.

“yn…”

“jaehyun.”

this is the first time—first time in 7 months that you spoke his name aloud and not cursed him in the same breath.

he staggers a step behind him, and you instinctively reach out. upon realisation, you pull your arm back.

jaehyun clamps his eyes shut, his nose slightly scrunching up as if he’s recalling something particularly difficult to say. “i really—”

“are you drunk?” the sharpness in your voice shoots him awake with his eyes opened.

“no,” he replies firmly and adds a shake with his head, “no.”

you sigh. “how did you get here?”

“i have a car.”

“you fucking drove—are you insane?” despite every conscious effort to not get close to him, you find yourself tugging on his arm with your hand, pulling him inside before he has a chance to collapse on the floor. jaehyun shows absolutely zero signs of resistance to this.

the door slams shut behind you two.

“sit down,” you utter, more like a command than anything. “i’ll get you some water.”

jaehyun is drunk; there’s no denying it. but not drunk enough to not know how to navigate your apartment even in the dark. perhaps, he has your history to thank for that.

he sinks down into your couch with you shortly appearing next to him with a mug in your hands that you cup his fingers over.

“thanks,” he mutters softly, taking a sip of water.

“don’t think your 5 minutes doesn’t still stand,” you watch him pointedly. a sudden impatience ringing in his bones, jolting his posture upright.

jaehyun sets the mug down on the coffee table. eyes looking up at you as you stand over him.

he breathes out deeply.

he drops his gaze to the mug for a moment, looking as though he’s contemplating his words carefully. the slight hum of your fridge being the only thing you can hear, and suddenly it’s a thousand times louder than usual.

meeting your eyes again, he leans forward.

with every beat of silence that comes, a hammering picks up in your chest.

his lips part, and the words that follow fall heavily. "i think about you."

air is knocked out of your lungs momentarily. you feel your shoulders drop.

"i miss you," jaehyun's voice is like a needle. feeble, almost undetectable, and aiming straight for your heart.

the stabbing pain that you felt more than half a year ago when you and jaehyun broke up returns. your heart dropping straight to your stomach, sinking and stirring around in the acid.

you can only scoff.

"stop fucking around," your tone harsh and your voice coarse. you fold your arms across your chest, regarding him with slight contempt in your eyes.

"i'm not," jaehyun counters, "yn—"

"no," you sternly shut him down. "this isn't fair, you know it isn't fair."

you couldn’t stop the next words from coming out, a result of the long suppressed, built up anger and resentment you held towards your ex.

“you were the one who broke up with me, jaehyun.”

jaehyun only looks at your face. his brows softened, knitting together slightly as he studies the expression on it.

“i know,” he offers in the way of a comfort. arms reaching out to you and holding your wrists in his hands.

if it wasn’t for the overtly complex prism of emotions inside of you right now, there’d be more aversion to his touch. but his skin on yours feels so familiar. it feels right. so much so that you allow yourself to be pulled closer to him sitting there.

maybe less allow, and more just letting your body move to whatever stimulus in a catatonic state.

you’re standing in between his knees, looking down at him, and the urge to fall right back into your once favourite habits emerges from the pit of your stomach. but your mind is clear enough to keep to your discipline.

jaehyun picks one of your hands up to his lips. gently, he kisses the back of it; a gesture way too intimate but you can’t bring yourself to stop him.

“i fucked up,” his voice is low and steady as he brushes his thumb across your knuckles. “i know i did, and i shouldn’t have.”

he runs his other hand up your leg, soft like a feather caressing you. and suddenly, it’s like you’re brought back to reality—the fact that this is actually happening and you’re allowing it to.

“stop,” you pull your hand away from his grip, “it’s too late for apologies, jaehyun.”

when you were together, every time his name fell from your lips, it sounded sheepish, like he’s some high school crush that you’re afraid to utter the name of. and this time, it’s none different.

he settles his hand on top of your hips. “i’m sorry,” he voices completely disregarding what you just said.

you shake your head, “that doesn’t mean anything.” there was a time where you would’ve given anything to hear this from him. except now, as bitterness has steadily been building in you, you’d much rather have him beg and plead for your forgiveness instead.

“i miss you,” he says again. his glassy eyes telling of his desperation, which is only amplified by him pulling your waist closer.

you put your hands on his shoulders, holding yourself away as much as you can. “i have a boyfriend,” you throw out weakly, as if even you don’t believe it to be a strong enough argument against the case that is jung jaehyun.

“and i never should’ve let you get that chance. to be with him.”

all the anger and resentment you still felt towards jaehyun just a few moments ago seems to have dissipated. you relax your arms, your body moving in closer to his.

your eyelids flutter over jaehyun’s features. he’s always been handsome, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen him like this. under you, shadows casted on his face from your body, eyes dark with anticipation.

you fix your eyes on his, “i can’t do this to him.”

if you had known jaehyun would be coming, you wouldn’t have worn this particular pair of shorts. “i don’t care about him,” he says rubbing the bare back of your thigh with his palm.“this is about you. us.” jaehyun pulls your legs up onto the couch, sitting you on top of his knees.

his eyes glaze over you like honey, and memories of the two of you fill his mind. you have never been more beautiful than right now.

the tip of his thumb grazes the side of your cheeks, pushing your hair back. “tell me you don’t miss me, and i’ll leave.”

you stay in silence, completely enchanted with just a look from him that close to you.

“i thought so,” jaehyun admits lowly, like a whisper.

you can’t pinpoint where in the brief encounter tonight that jaehyun took control over the situation, but the thing is that he is certainly holding the reins.

he presses his lips on yours, gently at first, as if already savouring this moment for reminiscing later. as he feels you kissing him back, he pushes in deeper.

his hands slide your hips further down his lap. lips still interlocked, he kisses you like he’s a starved man and you’re his last meal.

he hums, mumbling against your lips, “i missed you so fucking much,” the vibrations sending a chill down your spine, “god.”

you catch a faint scent of his cologne, the one you bought for him ages ago.

“i need to taste you,” he pulls away from your mouth shortly, mumbling the words, “will you let me?” into you.

you peel yourself off of him, catching your breath and nodding. and if that wasn’t enough, you breathe out a shaky “yes.”

jaehyun picks your body up in his arms, laying you down on the couch with your head on top of the rest. you watch him hook his fingers into your waistband and pull your shorts down, an eagerness to his pace.

he looks up at your face through your legs, waiting for confirmation of any kind before he similarly pulls your panties down.

you give him a subtle nod, and the next second, your cunt is bare and exposed to him. instinctively, your knees press together, clamming your thighs shut.

“oh, baby,” he tuts, palms spreading your legs open for him again. “fuck,” he bites down on his lip, “i missed this pretty pussy.”

helplessly, you feel the heat underneath your skin bloom in your cheeks.

jaehyun runs the tip of his finger up your slit, letting out hums of satisfaction as he does so. you feel your back arch slightly just at the littlest of movements from him. you swear you catch a smirk from him before he starts sucking on your clit.

his tongue works up and down your cunt, covering it in a mixture of your own wetness and his spit. he moans against you, “i missed how you taste.”

your hands find their way into jaehyun’s hair, gripping tightly and trying to resist the urge to push him deeper into your cunt.

he laps his tongue over and over your clit, a finger dragging up and down your folds. he hums, “do you still like it like this, baby?” he pushes the tip of his finger inside of you, easing his way in from the slickness.

slowly, he drags his finger in and out of your cunt, swirling circles with his tongue on your clit at the same time. gently, he places his other palm over your lower abdomen, applying the slightest bit of pressure.

you can’t help your legs from squirming under him.

“oh, you do, don’t you?” his voice undoubtedly laced with an edge of cockiness. brash from the fact that he's convinced he still knows your body in ways that no one else does, not even your current boyfriend.

but you'd rather die than ever even consider affirming that.

you bite down hard on your bottom lip, keeping the whines you so desperately want to release inside.

jaehyun keeps lapping his tongue over your cunt tirelessly, pumping his finger smoothly into you. then, without warning, adding another digit, and another.

despite your best efforts, a small cry escapes you. nails digging deep into jaehyun’s shoulders as you feel yourself stretched out on his fingers.

“fuck, jae,” you feel him purr at your nickname for him

“yes, baby?”

you feel the tightening in your stomach, your legs threatening to squeeze shut. “i’m close,” you faintly manage in between soft whimpers.

“do it,” jaehyun murmurs, his voice muffled against you, “i need to see you cum again.” his fingers quicken their pace, “please. cum on my face, baby.”

you fight the urge to not give him what he wants, but truly, he’s too good at making you feel good. his palm presses a little harder on your stomach, tipping you that little bit over the edge as the pressure releases on his fingers. a blinding wave of dopamine flashes across your eyes, your walls clenched tightly around his fingers so much so that jaehyun struggles to move his hand.

jaehyun mutters as he watches you; eyes shut tight, back arched, and hands holding his face in place as you ride your orgasm out on him.

“mhm, that’s it baby,” he mumbles as you slowly come down from your high. “good girl,” he smirks before pressing a final kiss on your clit.

he crawls over your body, caging you inside his arms with his hands on either side of your shoulders.

your eyelids feel heavy, drooping low as you watch jaehyun push your hair away from your face. “you’re still the prettiest when you cum,” he smiles cheekily.

you barely manage to breathe out a breathy, “shut up,” causing him to chuckle over you.

“don’t believe me?”

jaehyun takes one of your wrists, pulling your hand down to palm the front of his jeans.

“you don’t even have to do anything—that’s how fucking hard you make me.”

you look down at your hand cupping over his bulge. then, back up into his eyes, fingers unbuttoning the top of his jeans. “what are you gonna do about it then?”

jaehyun laughs an unamused laugh, and you know too well what that means.

“baby, baby,” he gently shakes his head. “you’re going to regret saying that.” he unzips the zipper, pulling his boxers down until his cock springs up free from its confines.

the tip of it swelling red, precum leaking little by little at a time.

you feel your body tremble at the sight of his dick, even after all this time. the first time you had sex with jaehyun, you couldn’t walk straight the next morning.

he wraps his hand around his shaft, pointing its head directly at your cunt. slowly, he spreads his precum all over your slit—still sensitive from your orgasm. he drags his tip over your entrance, teasing you and enjoying every second of it.

your body writhes at this fleeting touch, the need to be filled up with his dick chipping away at your dignity.

“you want this cock, baby?” jaehyun brushes your cheek with his thumb, like he’s wiping away tears. “i’ll give it to you.”

he steadies himself with his palms firmly planted on the armrest.

then, in one swift motion, he thrusts his hips into you, the entirety of his length disappearing inside you. the sudden shock of it making you scream out.

"what the fuck?" you curse him with your head thrown back.

jaehyun only smirks before pounding into you again, harder this time, eliciting a groan of his own. "i missed how good you feel, fuck."

your fingers attempt to grapple onto anything within reach, but come up short. one of your arms swing itself over jaehyun's neck, drawing your bodies closer as he thrusts again.

the sheer size of him inside you makes you feel like you're being split open. you moan out his name, his hips bucking inside of you as a response.

"i forgot how well you take my dick," his arm buckles slightly under his weight, "isn't that right, baby?" jaehyun begins to build a rhythm with his thrusts, pumping deep inside you every time.

he leans down, connecting your lips together softly, "you're made for me."

his thrusts grows harder, ramming himself into you with the tip of his cock hitting the back of your womb every time. you're sure that it will probably bruise by tomorrow.

the filthy noise of his skin slapping onto yours echo in your ears, mixing in with his gravelly moans. "he can't fuck you like this, can he?" jaehyun spits.

your hand goes up to cover your own mouth, not wanting to let the almost pornographic noises out of you. this only causes jaehyun to pull it away, pinning your wrist to the couch.

"oh, i know, baby. he can't fuck you like i do."

it doesn't take much before you can feel yourself nearing another orgasm. so close, it's practically within reach.

"jaehyun..." you moan weakly.

"you're gonna cum again for me, huh?" he hisses, "how long has it been since he's fucked you properly? cumming twice for me first time i see you again?"

all you can focus on is your incoming orgasm. back arching into his chest, your hand struggling to break free from his hold.

"please," you plead, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure.

"you want me to rub your clit, don't you?" jaehyun mutters in between hitches in his breath.

you nod, your body verging on begging him for it.

a knowing smirk plays on his lips. "tell me you're mine."

you let out a whine, frustrated that you can't free your hand to do it yourself.

"do it," he orders, "you want to cum? say you're mine."

"fuck," you pant, struggling to keep a steady breath. your mind hazy with overwhelming carnal pleasure, "fuck, i'm fucking yours. i'm yours."

"now, how hard was that?" jaehyun grins before snaking a hand down to rub circles on your sensitive nub.

within seconds, you feel your orgasm unravel itself on jaehyun's dick, walls closing in tight around him.

feeling you tightening around his cock, jaehyun buries his face in the crook of your neck. your hand holds onto his back, nails sinking into the muscle across his shoulder blades. you hear his muffled moans into your skin as he cums, releasing his load inside you and filling you up full with his cum.

curses slip past his lips as the two of you catch your breath, jaehyun still stuffed inside you.

the ringing from your orgasm begins to quiet down, and you give jaehyun a couple of taps on the shoulder. gently, he pulls himself out, and the sudden absence leaves your body aching for it again.

his body collapses next to you on the couch.

"fuck," he mutters under his breath.

"that was fucking stupid," you confess out loud, now that your head isn't clouded by pure animal instinct.

to your surprise, jaehyun agrees. "yeah," his chest rising and falling rapidly.

he shifts his weight onto his elbow, propping himself up. "but what are we if not stupid?" jaehyun leans in, pecking your lips quickly and then doing it again. a stupid, stupid grin on his face that you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss.

#k-labels #📂 - nct #nct #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct 127 #nct x reader #jaehyun #jeong jaehyun #nct smut #nct 127 smut #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun nct

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jeonginsleftcheek · 17 days ago

Text

Twisted

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: fluff, smut, thriller

wc: 6.6k

synopsis: felix and you live a normal, happy life as a couple. until you start noticing little things that make no sense. felix calls you silly for thinking anything could ever be wrong in your perfect little world. is he being honest or harboring a bigger secret?

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, oral(f), two plot twists!!, dark ending!

a/n: i can't really put all of the warnings here bcs i would spoil the plot twist but i hope you enjoy this one hehehe🤭🫶🏻

divider by: @cafekitsune

~masterlist

There is nothing more beautiful than waking up next to the person you love.

Traces of last night's loving and passionate activities linger in the air all around you as your limbs are entwined with his, not knowing where you begin and where he ends; almost like you've merged into one person.

You stir a little, the warmness of his naked body pressed against yours makes your heart dance inside your chest and your core throb with the everlasting craving you have for Felix.

Your eyes flutter open and you look at him, his hair a royal mess, the strands falling over his forehead and into his eyes, where his eyelashes kiss his freckled skin, his plump lips slightly parted as he cutely drools on the pillow.

You chuckle a little and that stirs him up, he smacks his lips together as you lay on your tummy, facing him, his leg thrown over you.

Felix cracks one eye open and smiles instantly, his fingertips dancing on your back, all along your spine.

"Morning, sweets." his voice is even deeper when he wakes up, but still dripping with honey.

"Morning, love." you whisper and his smile widens, making him look even cuter to you so you lean in and press your lips to his forehead.

Your hand caresses his hair out of the way as your lips repeatedly collide with his skin, kissing his eyebrows, eyelids, nose, all of his starry freckles.

Felix giggles at the onslaught of love, giddy as his arm curls around your waist, bringing you even closer to him.

You enjoy the quiet moment before you have to get up and start your day, face the real world.

As your hands gently caress each other's skin, both of you become hungry for more, hungry to become one like you did last night, more than once.

Felix's breaths are shaky as he ruts his middle against your thigh, his hot leaky cock dragging against your plushy flesh.

You moan quietly as your hand explores his soft skin and Felix maneuvers you so your back is facing him.

"Wanna hold you." he murmurs into your hair, adjusting your leg before he sinks his cock into you easily, your cunt always ready to take him in.

Felix buries himself inside your warmth, holding you tightly as his lips attach to your neck and whisper words of love in your ear.

You melt into his embrace, letting him rock against you, his cock sliding in and out of your wetness in a steady rhythm, his arm wrapped around you as his fingers press on your clit.

Euphoria soon takes you both over as you spill into each other, all wet and warm, full of love.

"I love you, sweetheart." he kisses your shoulder and arm gently.

"I love you too." you turn to smile at him.

Yes, nothing is more beautiful than this moment right here.

"Lixie! Are you done getting ready?" you yell out from the hallway.

"Yes! I'm coming, babe." he yells back from your room before he comes skipping down the steps with a big smile on his face.

You chuckle at him as he jumps right in front of you, cupping your cheeks and pressing his lips into yours, a wet smooch sound echoing off the walls.

"You're so cute." your face is warm as you giggle at him.

"That's you." he pinches your cheek, making you whine a little.

"So, do you like my outfit?" he asks with a little spin, a bright smile on his face.

"Of course, you look very handsome." you giggle.

"Don't I always?" he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes at him playfully.

"Why is this new diner so special that you're sooo excited about it?" you ask as the two of you make your way out of your house.

Felix swings your linked hands and smiles.

"You'll see. I know you'll love it." his eyes shine as he beams at you.

"Fine, I trust you." you say and he brings your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles gently.

It's another beautiful sunny day, the birds are chirping in the trees, there is no trace of clouds in the sky, everyone around you seems to be happy, wearing big smiles and saying a polite 'good morning' as you pass them by.

You smile too, enjoying the sun's warmth as Felix yaps about a new video game he discovered recently.

Come to think of it, you don't remember the last time it rained or snowed.

While you ponder this, Felix notices your absent-mindedness and nudges you.

"You're not listening to me." he pouts.

"Sorry, I was just thinking how it's been sunny for so long that I almost forgot what it's like when it rains." you chuckle and Felix's eyes widen for a moment.

"Oh- I mean, isn't that good?" he asks, licking at his lip nervously.

"Sure, but it'd be nice to get some rain now and then." you shrug, looking around.

"I'm sure it'll rain soon." Felix is more quiet than usually when he says that but you pay no mind as the mysterious diner he'd been raving all week about finally comes into view.

"Felix!" you exclaim, grabbing at his arm, a big smile spreading on your face upon seeing what all the rave was about.

Your boyfriend's demeanor changes instantly as he perks up, a big smile on his face.

"It's a space themed diner!" you clap excitedly as you near the entrance.

"Mhm. Just what you love." Felix's eyes sparkle as he looks at your face adoringly. "Are you happy?" he adds.

"Happy? I'm estatic!" you practically skip the rest of the distance as Felix trails behind you with a satisfied smile on his face.

Seeing you like this is the biggest gift he could ever have the honor to indulge in, it's all he needs.

To see you happy.

You hurry inside and the interior of the diner makes you gasp.

The walls are filled with beautiful space paintings and photographs, the ceiling is made of some kind of big screen that has an entire galaxy lighting up here and there, as if all the little stars are actually shining above your heads, spacecraft oval shaped chandeliers hang from the stars, the little lights inside them shining with different colors of the rainbow.

The whole diner seems to be presented as the Solar System, each booth belonging to one planet and designed according to colors and traits of the planet.

Everything seems shiny and sparkly, some experimental electronic music is playing from the speakers as the waiters rush around, all dressed in shiny suits, with cute space details sewn into them.

The place is packed but as if it was waiting for you, the booth inspired by Jupiter, your favorite planet, is empty.

"Shall we?" Felix smiles, reaching his hand out to you.

You nod fervently, still trying to process the entire design of the diner, your heart dancing inside your chest happily.

Felix chuckles and leads you to the booth and as soon as you sit down, an automated voice starts talking from the little speaker on the wall.

"Welcome to Jupiter, the gas giant of our Solar System! It is primarily made out of gases and liquids so your feet won't really touch any ground but that's okay, you can always float along! Just be careful not to get swept away by the famous cyclonic storm called the Great Red Spot, hehe! Fun fact: Jupiter has 80 moons!" the voice talks.

"Startled me at first." you chuckle. "Actually, Jupiter has 95 moons discovered, as of lately. I guess they didn't update the fun fact." you add and Felix frowns.

"Hm." he purses his lips and you giggle. "How could they not update it?"

"It's okay, it's not that big of a deal." you giggle at his pouty face.

Before he can answer, a waiter appears next to your table.

"Hello, my fellow space explorers! I'm glad to see you've chosen Jupiter as your destination today. Take a look at the selection on our menu, it's just out of this world!" the waiter laughs, putting down your menus and twirling around as he walks away giving you some time to decide.

"This place is so kooky." you laugh in delight and your boyfriend smiles at you.

"You like it, right?" he asks.

"I love it, Lixie." you confirm and Felix's face becomes brighter again.

"I wanna try the Milky Way shake." Felix says as he skims through the menu.

"Yeah, we can get a big one, share it?" you blink at him and he melts.

"Of course. What do you wanna eat?" he asks.

"Um- the trip to the moon pancakes sound yummy."

"Ooh, I will get the andromeda cake then and we can share and taste both."

After placing your order, you look around, marvelling at the way they thought about every little detail as whoever made this put a lot of thought into this diner and is obviously a space lover like you.

Your eyes fall to another booth, the Mars one, hues of orange and red swirling on the wall and the seats as your eyes follow the intricate design all the way to the woman sitting in the booth with another woman, perhaps a friend, perhaps her lover.

Something seemed off, though.

The woman was taking sips from her glass, but it seemed like no matter how many times she sipped, the liquid inside didn't move.

Again, she took a big sip and you could see her throat move as she swallowed but the same amount of red liquid with little golden sparkles inside it remained.

You don't know why you were fixating on such a little detail, but it was so peculiar.

"What is it? You like the Mars booth more?" Felix follows your eyes.

"N-no. Just... nevermind." you smile at him. "I'm just looking at the different designs. They're all so pretty." you settle on saying.

"I'm glad- I mean yeah they are." he smiles at you.

Your Milky Way shake arrives along with your food, and everything looks sparkly and delicious, decorated with little edible stars and edible glitter.

Felix and you talk about nonsense, relaxed and full of laughter as you share the shake, sipping from it at the same time.

The way he stares at you, his eyes dark and intense yet so soft and full of love, makes your stomach do backflips every time he's this close to you.

After the delicious brunch, the two of you decide to take a walk to a nearby park, wanting to catch some fresh air and stretch your legs.

Felix's arm is wrapped around your shoulders as you melt into him, your arm wrapped around his waist.

"Ugh Felix, what day is it today?" you suddenly feel confused.

"It's Thursday. Why?" he chuckles.

"Weren't you supposed to be at work?" your brain struggles to remember if he said he had a day off or not.

"Y/n, don't be silly. I have the whole week free, remember? We said we'd spend as much time as we can together."

"Right." you chuckle, your memory refreshed. "Silly me. Must be the Milky Way shake with the way I'm spacing out."

Felix laughs at your pun as you wiggle your eyebrows at him.

The world is so beautiful with the sound of his laughter gracing it and with his attention focused only on you.

With warmness in your heart, you return to your home.

You work from home, so as soon as you arrive back at your house, you sit down at your desk.

You feel bad for not helping Felix with dinner but he reassures you that he doesn't mind cooking a meal for the two of you, in fact, it makes him happy.

Retreating into your home office, you began working.

Exhaustion takes you over after a few hours, not even realizing what time it is until there's a knock on your door.

"Y/n, love? Dinner is ready." it's Felix's warm deep voice and you turn to look at him, a smile on your face instantly.

"Okay, I'll be down in a few minutes-"

"Babe, you've done enough. Come on, you need to eat something." Felix makes his way to you, his hand gentle on your upper back as he caresses you.

You melt into his touch instantly, thoughts of continuing to work disperse immediately.

"Okay." you chuckle as he leans down to kiss your forehead gently.

The food is delicious like always and as you keep eating, the sky outside darkens suddenly.

You squint your eyes, lifting your head up to look out the window.

"Oh!" you exclaim as thunder rolls in.

Felix turns his head towards the sound, seemingly unphased but there is a small smirk dancing on his lips that you miss.

"Looks like it's gonna rain after all." he says.

"Yeah." you quip, a weird feeling settling in your stomach.

You decide to ignore it, it's a coincidence that it started raining just when you thought about it, it's not like you predicted the weather or something.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" Felix smiles and you nod.

"Of course, it was delicious. I'm not letting you wash the dishes alone though." you point at him jokingly.

"It's fine, sweetheart." Felix is quick to shake his head as he starts cleaning out the table.

"No, you cooked. Let me be useful for something at least."

"You are useful."

"You know what I meant." you say and he nods, the two of you settling on washing the dishes together.

As you're putting the last plate in its place, Felix appears behind you, pressing his body into yours as his arms wrap around you.

He whines, nuzzling his face in your neck as goosebumps rise on your skin and you melt into him.

"Hello there." you giggle.

"Mm." his lips attach to your neck, leaving gentle kisses and you lean your head back on his shoulder, giving him more space.

"Let's shower together." you suggest and Felix hums against you with a smirk.

It's a daily routine you have, any moment you don't have to spend apart, you spend together including showering.

If someone gave Felix the chance, he would quit his job and just be your boyfriend.

He often thought about that, spending every second of the day with you, even while you work, he'd be content in sitting quietly next to you.

He'd have you all to himself, forever.

But, real life gets in the way but he concludes that that's what makes every moment you are with him even more precious.

"Let me help you, sweetheart." his voice drips with honey again as he turns your back to him while the two of you stand under the shower.

Shivers run up your spine as his fingertips slide on your back.

He grabs your shampoo, pouring it on his hands before he starts washing your hair.

You relax into his touch, loving the way he always takes care of you. His hands are gentle but firm as he massages the bubbles into your scalp before rinsing it off.

As you lean back into him, his semi-hard cock brushes against your backside and you chuckle.

"Someone's getting excited." you look back at him with a playful smirk.

"Can you blame me? My beautiful girlfriend is naked right in front of me." he smiles somewhat of an innocent smile, a contrast to the steamy atmosphere shaping between you.

His arms wrap around you as he pulls your body flush against his, making you shiver.

"I need you, my sweet." he whispers, bumping his nose with yours, lips brushing against you.

"Lixie." his hands roam on your body, as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Let's go to bed, hm? I love the thought of shower sex but last time you slipped and almost cracked your head open on the tiles and I really don't want to go through that again."

Felix whines in embarassment, burying his face in your neck as he tightens his hold on you.

"That was one time. All the other times were fine." he pouts against your skin.

"I don't wanna see you hurting, come on." you say and he reluctantly follows you out of the shower.

After drying off, Felix whisks you away to your bedroom, almost throwing you down on the soft bed as you squeal, the room filled with laughter.

"My sweetheart." he coos at you, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb swipes on your skin.

Before you can say anything, his plump lips are on yours as he kisses you lovingly, passionately, possessively, his tongue pushing inside and swirling around yours, taking your breath away.

You clutch onto him as he lowers his middle into yours, grinding his hardening cock against your wet pussy.

He keeps kissing you and swallowing your moans, as his tip catches your entrance a few times but he keeps grinding against you.

"L-Lix, need you." you whimper in frustration, wanting him to fill you up.

"Yeah? My baby needs me?" he smirks and you whimper again.

"Yes, please. Need you inside me." you bat your eyelashes at him, trying to look as cute as possible even though Felix would kiss the ground you walked on if you told him to.

"Such a good girl. Asking so nicely." he keeps smirking before grabbing his cock and slowly sinking into your heat.

Both of you moan at the feeling as he slowly pushes in, bottoming out and fitting snuggly inside you.

Felix tries, he really does, he tries to be gentle but you feel so damn good clenching around him, keeping his cock inside you, your legs and arms wrapped around him as he fucks into your sweet spot.

"Ah!" you exclaim as Felix picks up his speed, his hips snapping into you as he presses your knees to your shoulders, coming down on you with all his weight.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as he fucks you relentlessy, making you cum in mere minutes.

"Shit, baby you're so wet." Felix looks down at his cock, the white cream of your pleasure painted on his length.

He grunts deeply before fucking into you again, the squelching sounds making your face and ears burn.

Your boyfriend is like a bunny in heat, never stopping or slowing down, making his cock slip out of you on accident as he keeps wilding above you.

A little whimper escapes his lips, missing your heat immediately as he grabs his length and pushes back into you, resuming his ruthless pace.

"Mm, yeah, take it." he groans and all you can do is moan as you let him have his way with you.

"F-Felix!" you moan as he brings you to your second orgasm.

"Yeah, say my name baby." he smirks as he pounds into you.

You keep moaning his name as you climax, getting his cock even more wet which in return makes him even crazier for you.

You're sure the bed will break with the force he's fucking you with, his cock slipping out of you a few more times, making him whimper every time it happens.

He grips your hips, thrusting into you erratically as his cock twitches inside you.

"Gonna give you my cum." his voice is whiny and high-pitched, breathless from the exertion.

"Yes, fill me up, Lixie!" you whimper and he cums, buried deep inside you as your pussy milks his cock down to the last drop.

Felix collapses on top of you and you hold each other, as you listen to the sound of the rain hitting the glass.

"Isn't it weird that it started raining as soon as I mentioned it?" you swallow, staring out the window, your hands drawing random patterns on Felix's back.

You feel him tense in your hold before he lets out a chuckle.

"No, maybe you heard it on the news and subconsciously thought about it or something. Or maybe..." he turns to look at you, his cheek leaned on your breast. "Maybe you have superpowers and you can predict the future." Felix wiggles his eyebrows playfully and you let out a snort.

"Oh sure, that sounds highly likely." you shake your head as he lifts up and kisses you.

"I love you." he smiles after attacking you with sweet kisses.

"I love you, Lixie." you cradle his face.

"Guess we gotta shower again?"

The next morning, you were woken up by Felix's lips on your inner thighs as he made his way to your core.

"Lix..." you mutter half asleep and he only hums in response, lips ghosting over your panties before pressing a kiss to your cunt.

"L-Lixie!" you whine when his tongue darts out to lick at the damp spot on the fabric.

"Relax, baby, let me take care of you." your eyes flutter closed again as he slips off your underwear, his lips wrapping around your clit immediately.

As always, Felix is hungry for you, like he can never get enough of your taste and the way you feel against his tongue, the way you grip his hair or press your thighs around his head.

He ruts against the bedsheets as you slide your middle against tongue, gripping his hair.

He moans into you, the vibrations helping you get closer to the edge as he digs his nails into your plushy thighs.

Fireworks explode from the inside, spilling your sweet juices on Felix's tongue and chin.

"Mm, baby." he whines against your cunt, lapping you up and leaving more kisses on your clit and all along your folds.

"Sensitive..." you whimper and he leans back before lifting up and hovering over you.

"I couldn't help myself, you just looked so sweet while sleeping." Felix bites on his lip as he looks at you adoringly.

"Oh, I don't mind." you smirk. "Let me help you."

"Um..." his face becomes red suddenly. "I - erm, finished already."

"Oh. Oh." you look down at his boxers.

"Embarassing, really."

"It's not. I'm flattered actually." you smirk, caressing his face.

Felix chuckles cutely before leaning down to kiss you.

"What's the plan for today?" you ask against his lips.

"Well, I was thinking we could have a picnic. I mean, it's sunny again." he nods towards the window.

"Okay, I love picnics." you smile as he gets up.

"Actually, I don't remember when was the last time I went on a picnic." you purse your lips, sitting up.

For some reason, memories seem blurry when you start thinking about them, it almost hurts your brain to try and remember well; almost anything.

"We had one like a month ago. Remember? You cut up fruits in the shapes of little stars." Felix says, rummaging through his drawer.

It's as if it suddenly appears in your mind, the clear memory of you preparing for the picnic together with Felix, enjoying a sunny day in the nature.

"Right, I remember now." you chuckle nervously. "Why couldn't I remember that?"

"You just woke up, you need some coffee, my love." Felix comes up to you and kisses your head.

"I'm gonna go take a quick shower." he says and you nod, watching him leave to the bathroom.

You get up and make your way to the kitchen, making some coffee and toast for the two of you, before you start preparing snacks for the picnic.

While you're working on the sandwiches, you can't shake off the uneasy feeling that's creating a knot in your stomach.

When was the last time you went outside without Felix? When was the last time he walked out of the house to go to work? When was the last time you talked to your family?

You can't remember. None of it.

Before you start panicking, Felix appears in the kitchen, startling you.

"Oh, Lix!" you exclaim, your hand on your chest.

"What scared you? It's just me." he smiles sweetly at you.

You stare at him for a moment, could he be hiding something from you?

But Felix is always so caring and loving, he is the best partner you could ever ask for.

He always makes an effort, takes you out on dates, takes care of you when you're tired or sick, is attentive towards your wants and needs; he actually listens to you when you talk.

He loves you.

"Y/n?" Felix chuckles, waving a hand in front of your face.

"Ah, sorry." you laugh awkwardly. "Was just lost in thought."

"What were you thinking about?" Felix grabs one of the toasts you made and bites into it.

"You. How wonderful of a boyfriend you are." you settle on saying, because it is sort of true.

"Aw, darling. Only the best for you." he skips towards you with a big smile, enveloping you in a bone crushing hug as you squeal and grab at him, both of you laughing.

How could you even doubt him?

Felix helps you with the rest of the snacks before the two of you get ready and walk out into another beautiful sunny day.

The walk is short, as there is a park near to your house, your memory now refreshed as you see the tree you always sit under coming into view.

Felix and you race towards the tree, laughing and giddy like little children.

You almost get there first but his arms wrap around your middle and he pulls you back into him, making you almost drop the basket of food you were carrying.

"Lixie! That's cheating!" you put as he turns you around and touches the tree with his foot.

"I won!" Felix smirks.

You pout at him as he puts his backpack down and takes out the picnic blanket.

"Not fair." you whine and he chuckles at you, cupping your face.

"Fine, you won and I'm just a dirty cheater." he smirks and you laugh as he kisses you.

"There, is that better?" he rubs his nose against yours.

"Yes." you nod, making him laugh.

The two of you settle on the blanket, even bringing a speaker so you can play some music while you chat and eat.

After some time, Felix wraps his arm around you and leans on you so you wrap your arms around him as he settles on your chest.

It's quiet for a while and since your focus is not on Felix at the moment, you start looking around.

Cars roll in the distance, one, two, three, four, five, six, then again... It seems as if the same six cars keep passing by.

You stare in disbelief before your eyes fall near the pond where a man is throwing a stick to his dog.

It lands next to a tree and the dog runs to get it, bringing it back to its owner. Then it repeats, the man throws the stick, it lands next to the same tree, the dog gets it, the man throws the stick...

The stick keeps landing on the exact same spot next to that tree, the probability of that is too low for it to be happening repeatedly.

"Lix?" you swallow.

"Yes, sweets?" Felix looks up at you.

"Do you ever- do you ever feel like something is wrong? But you can't quite put your finger on it."

"What do you mean?" he lifts up to look at you, his eyes searching yours.

"Well... Look at that man and his dog." you point and Felix turns to look.

"What about them?"

"Watch where the stick lands." you say and Felix watches as it lands next to the tree.

And so it does again. And again.

"So?" he licks his lips.

"How is he hitting the exact same spot every time?"

"Good hand-eye coordination? Practice?" Felix says, a nervous smile on his face.

You sigh in frustration.

"What about the road? Look at the road!" you point again and Felix looks.

"The same six cars keep going round and round."

"They're not the same, it just seems so."

"Felix, something is wrong. I can feel it! Like how it started raining when I mentioned it. And the lady in the diner yesterday, she kept drinking from her glass but the amount of liquid stayed the same."

"Babe, that's silly. Nothing is wrong. I'm sure it just seemed so, maybe the glass was in the same color as her drink?" Felix places his hand on yours cautiously.

"Lix... I don't know, it's just that I can't remember certain things and it's bothering me."

Felix's eyes dart left and right, his lips pursed.

"Like what?"

"Like the last time I saw my friends or family. The last time you left the house. The last time I was home alone."

"We visited your family two months ago. You saw your friends last weekend. I left the house last week every day when I was working and you were home alone then." Felix frowns as he looks at you. "Baby, are you feeling alright?" he adds, touching your forehead and your eyes water.

"N-no." you whimper, feeling so confused and wondering what the hell is wrong with you.

"How about we go home and you take a nap? I promise you'll feel better after sleeping." Felix coos at you, caressing your face.

"Are you sure it's gonna be okay?" you hiccup.

"I promise, my love." he smiles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

Felix takes you home, and you trust him when he lays you down and whispers how everything is going to be just fine.

You wake up from your nap feeling drowsy and slightly confused.

Felix is next to you, his arms wrapped around you as he breathes deeply.

You sit up, grabbing the glass of water he has left on the nightstand for you when you wake up.

After sipping on the refreshing liquid, you look outside the window and freeze.

"What the fuck?" you mumble to yourself, squinting your eyes as you get up.

"What the fuck?" you repeat, trying to process what your eyes are seeing and Felix stirs behind you.

"Babe?" he grunts a little as he sits up.

"L-Lix..." your voice is shaky as you start panicking.

Felix gets up as you keep staring out the window.

The void stares back at you.

There is nothing outside. No road, no trees, no supermarket, it's not the street you live on, it's one big nothing; just a white light.

"Oh, shit!" Felix exclaims as he sees what you're looking at.

"I told you! I told you something is wrong!" you turn to look at your boyfriend, tears sliding down your cheeks.

But instead of looking scared, Felix looks angry.

"Fucking shit!" his voice raises as his hands reach towards the books on your table, and in frustration he pulls on them, making them clatter down on the floor.

"Felix!" you exclaim as he starts raging, throwing everything on the table down to the floor in a wave of anger.

You've never seen him like this, panicking you step back, not knowing how to react to his outburst or what it all means.

Felix looks up at you suddenly, his eyes softening and filling up with guilt.

"I'm- I'm sorry, y/n."

"Tell me what is happening." you say and he shakes his head.

"Stay here." he says and you step towards him.

"No, tell me what's going on!" you demand and the scowl is back on your boyfriend's face.

"Stay right here and stop asking fucking questions." he says angrily, making you flinch before he leaves the room.

The door slams behind him and as you make your move to follow him, you hear the lock click.

"Felix?" you grip the handle, trying to open up the door. "Felix! You can't just lock me in here without any explanation!" you scream, rattling and kicking the door.

"Felix, please come back!" you yell, your fists pounding against the wood. "I'm scared." you add quietly as fresh tears spill down your cheeks.

Felix disconnects the VR set from his head.

How the fuck did this happen?

How come it didn't render the street as it always does? Why have you started noticing the little things you've never noticed before? Why have you started thinking about your past so much?

He opens up the code with a frustrated sigh, his fingers gliding against the keyboard.

Maybe the AI is getting stronger and more brainy the more he plays with it.

Felix's eyebrows knit together as he goes over the thousands lines of code, trying to figure out if there is some kind of mistake that the computer is not picking up on.

His stomach grumbles and he leans back with a sigh, the virtual food can only do so much.

Felix finally stands up from his table, realizing how long he must've been sitting there judging by the ache in his legs and back.

"I'll deal with you later." he waves his finger towards the computer before picking up his phone and ordering pizza.

He grabs a can of soda from his fridge and looks around.

It's eerily quiet in his apartment, save for the silent buzzing of his computer and the distant hum of traffic outside.

Felix makes his way to the big glass windows, staring down at the city before him.

He's gonna have to go back to work on Monday, knowing he can't spend as much time with you the way he wants to when his vacation days end, brings a sadness to his soul.

The 'you' who basically doesn't exist, you who is just lines and lines of code, a program, there only when he disconnects from reality.

If he could, Felix would disconnect from it forever just so he could be inside the damn device next to you, always.

And now since he made you upset, it's going to be hard to get everything back how it was before, under his control.

He gets angry at himself for not being more careful and adding in more details, all for the sake of just being with you the whole time, seeing you happy and satisified.

Yes, that's all Felix wants.

He wants to be the only one you smile at, the only one that gets to enjoy something so holy and beautiful like your love and your touch.

The doorbell snaps him out of his thoughts and after paying the delivery guy, Felix sits alone and eats his dinner while thinking of ways to correct his mistakes.

You were not gonna slip from his fingers.

This won't be ruined for him.

You open your eyes and turn to see Felix already awake, on his side, his head propped on his hand as he stares at you lovingly.

"Good morning, my angel." he smiles at you.

"M-morning. I- ugh... I feel weird. I think I had a nightmare." your throat is dry as you swallow and Felix grabs the glass of water, bringing it to your lips.

"What kind of nightmare?"

"Well, there was nothing outside- outside the windows. And you got mad and started throwing stuff around. You really scared me."

"Oh my love, that would never happen." Felix quickly wraps his arms around you. "Everything outside is fine too, look." he turns you both towards the window and sure enough, everything looks normal.

"I'm so glad it was just a dream. I never want us to fight or anything." you whimper and Felix shushes you.

"Everything is perfect, my love. And I will make sure it stays that way." Felix mutters into your hair before pressing a few sweet kisses there.

"It's my last free day before going to work. Let's enjoy it together, without you worrying your pretty head about anything, hm?" he adds and you nod with a chuckle.

Felix and you decide to go bowling and then out for lunch, topping the outing off with a nice walk near the beach and everything seems perfect again; nothing like the bad dream you had or the unsettling feeling in your stomach.

No, that feeling was replaced with butterflies as Felix smiled lovingly at you, telling you how much he loves you.

When you got home, you spent hours in each other's embrace, connected as one.

Everything was beautiful, the way it was supposed to be.

It's Monday and Felix makes his way to work.

The bell on the door chimes as he opens it, eyes looking up at him from the counter.

He smiles wide as he enters.

"Hi, Lix!" you smile innocently at him.

"Hey, y/n." he smiles back, the voices in his head telling him he's sick but he ignores them.

"How was your vacation? Did something fun?" you ask, always so sweet, so polite, so pretty.

"Oh yeah. It was amazing." he nods at you.

You smile, not wanting to pry too much, unaware of what Felix has been doing for almost two years since he started working with you.

As soon as he saw you for the first time, Felix swears he felt Cupid shoot his arrow right into his heart. You were so beautiful, so pure like an angel.

Always smiling, always nice with everyone. The sound of your laughter melodious inside the cafe, echoing off the walls.

You always gave extra sweets to kids.

You always stayed behind to clean up.

You always offered to help out.

He wanted to have you all to himself.

He wanted to capture your beauty and innocence and hold it in the palm of his hand, have it exist only for him.

Yes, Felix could've confessed or asked you out.

But then you would see how boring he is, how he has nothing to offer to you.

You'd leave him, you'd smile at someone else, your attention wouldn't be only directed towards him.

Felix started staying behind with you, under the guise of helping you out just to get more information about where you live, what you enjoy, what you dislike, what your hobbies are.

It wasn't enough.

He became obsessed.

Felix learned your schedule and started breaking into your house.

At first, he stole some panties and went through all your stuff, reading your diaries, going through your photographs, taking your privacy away from you without you having a clue about it.

But then it became worse as he would wait for you to come home, his body cramped under your bed.

He would watch you get undressed, listen to you touch yourself on your bed, his cock straining against his pants and he couldn't do anything about it except squeeze it occasionally.

Embarassingly, he came into his pants while only listening to you more times than he'd like to admit.

It wasn't enough.

Felix was hungry for more.

That's how he came to the idea to steal your dna and feed it to the new AI system he was working on in his spare time.

He had to collect enough of it to have the ai take on your personality, the one he loved and admired so much.

Felix spent hours and hours coding and working on the program, until finally he could use it.

It was everything he wanted and more.

You were happy there.

You were his there.

Here, in the real world, you were just coworkers and that fact started bothering Felix more and more.

Unaware of his intentions, you smiled at Felix and he smiled back at you.

It was time to take another step so he could have you for real this time.

Tonight, you were gonna become his and there was no way to escape.

Felix was gonna show you how happy he can make you, only him.

You're going to be right where you belong.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @laughatdanger @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun

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fairyhaos · 2 months ago

Text

◈ love of my life // yoon jeonghan

jeonghan x gn!reader, 2k+ words

tags: technically requested by lots of people bc everyone wants jeonghan fluff, childhood friends to lovers, fluff, crack, mutual pining, almost-confessions

warnings: light swearing

summary: in which your relationship with jeonghan isn't exactly platonic and isn't exactly romantic... but rather, it's a secret third thing.

It has to be at least two in the morning when Jeonghan's ringtone blares throughout his bedroom, and he rolls over with a groan, grappling blindly at his nightstand before finding his phone and pressing it against his cheek.

“Who is this and what do you want?”

“Jeonghan, let's go on a date.”

He recognises your voice in an instant, even in his half-asleep state, and he huffs a laugh, flopping back against the pillows and rubbing his eyes.

“Gee, at least ask me when it's not ass o'clock in the morning, won't you?”

“No, no, this only works if you get up right now,” you say. “Come on, Jeonghan, just go on a date with me. Right at this very moment.”

Jeonghan rubs his eyes, before taking his phone away from his cheek and peering at the screen so he can read the time. “See, you’re not presenting a very good argument,” he says, once he’s put the phone against his ear again. It’s almost three in the morning. What are you thinking? “I don’t wanna date you that much.”

You make a sad sound on the other end of the phone. “What will it take to get you out of the house?”

“Wire me an obscene amount of money right now and I’ll think about it.”

There’s a pause.

“No. Best I can offer is a pretty please.”

Jeonghan can’t help smiling at your dry tone, and he rubs his eyes once again with a yawn. “Fine. I guess I can’t expect anything better from you, anyway.” He can almost see you biting your lip in annoyance, wanting to quip something witty back at him but also wanting to keep quiet so he’ll actually come.

“You know me so well.”

“Yes I do,” Jeonghan teases, and groggily hauls himself out of bed. “I’ll be ready in ten. Where do you want me to go?”

“Don’t worry, princess, I’ll pick you up,” you say, suddenly sounding excited. “Just wait for me and I’ll come over to take you out.”

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

You laugh, bright and happy, like it’s not two in the morning and you’ve asked your best friend to go on a date with you. Jeonghan can’t help but smile again, even as he grapples blindly through his dark room to find some clothes.

“Don’t worry. It’s a promise.”

───────────── 🌘

Jeonghan is, admittedly, more than a little confused when you just take him to the nearest playground.

Sure, maybe this entire thing is weird—you calling him up during ridiculous hours of the morning to “go on a date” is definitely not something you’ve done before—but that’s just the kind of friendship he and you have.

It’s like how, last year, he spent an entire month calling you increasingly ridiculous pet names, ranging from “beloved” to “honey butter snuggles bunny bear”, and purposefully took you out to public cafes and restaurants to test them out for everyone to see and hear, preventing you from punching him as hard as he probably deserved.

So this is, like, nothing new. Just a funny and silly thing the two of you do, because you've known each other for the whole of your lives, and when it comes to the way your relationship works, the lines separating “platonic” and “romantic” have always been curiously nonexistent.

It doesn’t mean anything. It’s never meant to mean anything.

But sometimes, sometimes, it feels like it should.

“I think I’m going to end up alone forever,” you say abruptly, and Jeonghan looks over at you in surprise. You’re sitting on the swings next to him, dragging yourself back and forth as you look up at the sky. There’s nothing to see up there, with the clouds obscuring any moonlight, so it's obvious that you're just looking away so he can't see your face.

It's so quiet; Jeonghan didn't realise that the world could be this quiet at 2 in the morning, and it makes your words echo extra loud into the abyss, before they're swallowed by the darkness.

Jeonghan shrugs. “Maybe you will.”

Instantly, you're leaning over to swat him on the arm, and he laughs.

“Asshole,” you say, but there's no venom in your voice, even as you level him with a glare. “You're really no help. I'm trying to unload all my deepest fears for you, here, practically begging you to reassure me, and yet all you can do is be mean.”

“You said one thing,” Jeonghan points out. “I don't think that counts as unloading all your deepest fears.”

“Yeah, well, maybe it's my only deepest fear.”

“Why are you unloading your deepest fear on me?” Jeonghan asks, kicking his legs out in front of him. “We're on a date. Our first date, mind you, so this hardly seems appropriate.”

“Asshole,” you say again, but like before, the word has no bite. You glance over at him, before realising that he's looking at you, and then quickly raise your gaze to the sky. “I'm being serious about this, you know.”

Jeonghan says nothing for a long moment. Watches the way the pale light from a nearby lamppost gives you an unearthly, almost otherworldly glow.

“I'm being serious too,” he decides to say, looking up at the cloudy sky with you. “You shouldn't be saying that stuff on a first date. Kinda makes it sound like you don't think things will work out between us, you know?”

You huff a confused laugh, looking over at him again. “Jeonghan, wha—?”

“And maybe you will end up alone,” he carries on, thoughtfully, as if he's talking to himself, forgetting that you're sitting there too. “But maybe you won't. I think you probably won't. And even if you do, it's fine, because I'll still be with you.”

It's a painfully vulnerable thing to say, made doubly so by the quietness of the night. Like a love confession, almost. Except it's not, because he's not in love with you.

He isn't.

“That's really sweet,” you say, almost begrudgingly, as if it pains you to admit that Jeonghan actually said something nice, and he laughs. “Though wrong. If you’re with me, then I'm not alone, am I?”

“Oh, I see. When you said alone, you meant in general. I thought you meant, like, romantically.”

“Well, maybe. But maybe I also meant overall,” you shrug. “I didn't think you'd want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Jeonghan swallows, tilts back on the swings, head still raised to look at the sky. “I want to spend every life with you.”

You look away from the sky at his words, turning to face him in surprise. The echoes of what he’d just said were already fading away, muffled and pressed into the velvet dark of the night, but the surprisingly soft air that followed in its wake still remained.

Now, he's the one avoiding your gaze, keeping his eyes firmly locked on the shapeless, misty blur of clouds above him so he doesn’t have to look at you. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you tilt your head, and smile.

“Oh, look at you, you sap,” you say, bright and teasing. “Face it, you like being with me. Oh! I bet you're in love with me, seeing as how you agreed to date me and everything! Isn't that right, Jeonghan? You love me.”

Jeonghan pulls a face, and you burst into laughter, so ridiculously loud and happy even though it's two in the morning and the whole playground is silent, the sound of your happiness ringing against the cool air of the night. He can't help but look at you then, exasperated and fond, shaking his head as you grip the swing chains and sway back and forth, still giggling to yourself.

He sniffs, feigning annoyance as he leans to the side, making a dramatic show of pulling his swing away from you.

“This isn't a real date. I could never date you.” He scrunches his face in faux disgust for good measure, and you laugh again, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. And yet you still came out when I called, didn't you?” you tease, smiling widely, and Jeonghan has to admit that you're right. He's here because you asked him to be here. He’s here for you.

Hm. This was getting weirdly soul-baringly truthful for what he’d thought would be a silly little hangout in the middle of the night.

“Next time you call me at 2am, I’m blocking you forever,” he says dryly, giving you an exaggerated look of disdain just so he can revel in the laugh that it pulls out of you.

“No you won’t,” you say cheerily. “Because you looove me.”

“Um, lies.”

“No lies. You literally love me so much.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You do. You do, you do, you do, you’re actually genuinely in love with me and there’s nothing you can do to deny it, because it’s so obvious that I’m literally the love of your l—”

Jeonghan makes a clicking sound with his tongue and leans over to shove your arm, causing you to swing to the side as you cackle with delight at his reaction. He glares at you, again, sighing with exasperation as you continue to laugh.

“Yes, yes, I love you, just as much as you love me. Now if we’re not actually doing anything of importance, then can I go home?”

“What?” you say indignantly. “Of course not! If I can’t sleep, then that means you’re not allowed to sleep either.”

“I knew it. You called me out here because you couldn’t fall asleep.”

“Duh. Now come and push my swing, will you?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes and stands up from his swing, groaning and holding his knees like he’s some kind of grumpy grandpa. You laugh, mocking him for his bad joints as he walks around to stand behind you, and he snarks back something ridiculously funny and rippling with light, twisting through the cool air.

And then his hand presses against the small of your back, soft and yet sure, and suddenly all you can focus on is that gentle, feathery point of contact that connects you to him.

Your laughter subsides as he begins to gently push your swing, and you move up, and down, and up, and down, the fleeting warmth of his hand an intermittent pressure against your back. He doesn’t say a word. Everything is quiet, in your head. Like his touch alone could silence any worries that still floated around in your brain.

It’s one of the things you adore most about Jeonghan. He makes you feel safe.

“For the record, by the way,” you say, voice quiet, “I really do love you.”

There’s no noise but the metallic creak of the swing, sounding weirdly small in the yawning abyss of the dark. Jeonghan’s hand is still steady as he pushes you, again and again.

“As a friend?” he asks, eventually.

You can’t see him, and maybe that’s for the best. His voice is tinged with a colour, an emotion, that you can’t quite name, warm and cool and fleeting and present all at once.

Yet more silence greets his words. You continue swinging, and he continues helping.

It’s hard to know what he means by that. As a friend, in a hopeful way? As a friend, in a meaningful way? Or as a friend, in a way that could maybe, maybe, signal that he thinks, or wishes, that you mean... something else.

More.

These things are difficult to tell, when it comes to Jeonghan. Who wears his heart on his sleeve and yet also hides it away where no one can see.

“Yeah,” you say, after it has been far too long since he’d asked, but it’s clear that you were both waiting for your answer anyway. The word leaves you as a sigh, threadbare and thin. “As a friend.”

Jeonghan huffs a soft laugh. Maybe because he believes you, or maybe because he doesn’t. You’re not too sure.

“Okay,” he murmurs, pale as moonlight. “In which case, I love you too.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa @weird-bookworm @minhui896 @slytherinshua @haowrld @belladaises @moonlitskiiies @mirxzii @zozojella @kawennote09 @a-wandering-stay @abibliolife @doublasting @wonranghaeee @icyminghao @sweet-like-caramel @your-yxnnie @odxrilove @kyeomyun @crackedpumpkin @jeonride @kellesvt @eightlightstar @onlyyjeonghan @aaniag @starshuas @raevyng @isabellah29 @hrts4hanniehae @mcu-incorrect @dokyeomkyeom @suraandsugar @haodore @tulsa24 @melodicrabbit

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deafsignifcantother · 10 months ago

Text

the v's reaction to someone taking your hearing aid

♥ summary: "what the Vees would do if they noticed their partially deaf s/o being picked on - like the other people would tear out their hearing aid(s) and break them and stuff" @aceduchessdragoness ♥ characters: velvette, vox, valentino ♥ notes: screaming and crying okay so i did val's spanish as spain spanish bc i think spain sign language would be better than narrowing his signs down to a specific latin american country but if the translation is cringe then tell me bc i'm literally using an lse dictionary

Vox

♥ word count: 1.9k ♥ notes: i use [Y/N] for the first time in my career ong, she/her pronouns used in third person, reader doesn't speak and only signs, protective but violent vox, vox in a healthy relationship, reader gets harassed in public

It was never a mystery to you how Vox always knew where you were. Even without the watch on your wrist, you felt his eyes on you, the looming knowledge of persistent monitoring.

Not that it bothered you, of course. If anything, you were worried that he wanted to spend his time watching you instead of running his business. But whatever, it was flattering.

Whenever you went on your routine errands, you would smile at every television or security camera you encountered. On the big screens in Vox's room, he feels like the common softening of his heart. Your smile always seems so genuine. How can somebody like you adore him so much?

Blue light illuminates your living room. From the kitchen, you groan as you make your way to the television. Can he stop bothering you at this hour? All you wanted to do was get some damn water, but of course, as always, he's monitoring you.

Words pop up on the screen as you approach it. You rub your eyes, the brightness overwhelming. You reach for your coffee table.

GO TO SLEEP

With the sudden click of the remote, you smile as the screen goes black. One, two, three... it lights up again.

DON'T TRY

Again, the screen goes black. One... again, a bright blue illuminates you.

[Y/N]. The television shakes.

You snicker at him, finally sitting on the floor and putting the remote down. On the other side of that screen, Vox sits on his swivel chair, gazing up at you, your frame taking up multiple monitors. Your eyes look below where his point of view is.

"It's late," you sign, and the light makes your hands shine in the darkness. "Dim it a little."

He listens; his small act of consideration makes you melt. Your eyes soften immensely. Internally, he begs you to stop looking at him like that; it's embarrassing how good it makes him feel.

The television is still a blinding blue as you go from the living room to the bedroom; he follows you per any screen by your side. Worst of all, a flat-screen faces your bed, which was mandatory.

"Goodnight, Vox." You sign while putting your face up to the screen.

You turn this TV off, and to your delight, it stays off.

With a yawn, you stretch your morning aches away and lean your head against the table of your vanity. You get a few seconds of shut-eye before popping back up. Vox is watching; if he notices you're tired, he will try to be domestic and nap with you regardless of how much work you must do today. So you rub away your sleepy eyes and massage the tension in your jaw. Putting on your hearing aid is first on your daily to-do list; you'd like to hear if he pops up on your television and decides to update you on his morning. Sometimes, he gets so impatient. Next, while picking up your moisturizer, you try not to shiver at the coldness once it touches your fingers.

You wish yourself a good morning before rubbing it in.

At the same time of day, Vox was already up and doing his rounds, making sure his employees were getting work done. He gets antsy between when you wake up, and you get to the tower. Every morning once he sees you entering the elevator, he'll wait on the other side to welcome you in with a kiss to the forehead.

Vox checks his watch. It shows his favorite things: your vitals, location, and pretty little face whenever you dial him.

You've finally left your place, thank goodness. Pacing aimlessly has never looked good on him.

He stands by his window, looking down at the streets below, watching you approach. You're wearing your usual uniform, one that he picked out just for you; it consists of the same red and blue stripes he has on his everyday suit. It makes you an eyesore in the everyday crowd.

If you didn't know any better, you'd lift your head to see if you could spot him among the many stories. The building is beautiful, overpowering. The V tower's magnificent brightness outshines the rest of the V district. The constant noise of people always has you walking with your hearing aid turned as low as it can go without turning off.

With the pink light reflecting off your face, you look both ways before crossing the street, a bright smile on your face, stepping onto the asphalt before a hand grabs your wrist.

Vox furrows his brow at the sight.

You turn your head and see a friendly reporter and a cameraman, the camera not yet rolling. Your pupils flicker between them.

"Hello!" She smiles, removing her hand. With caution, you fully face her, stepping back onto the sidewalk. The 'professional' persona you've been forced to practice is finally coming to fruition.

"Hello! I'm Deaf; I don't think I'd be able to do an interview."

She flicks her hand and rolls her eyes in the most friendly way possible. "Not a problem," she signs, moving the microphone vibrantly, "I can work this out, no problem!"

You widen your eyes in a wowwwww, oh my god, that's perfect... "Oh, what a kind woman you are!"

Vox? You beg internally. Baby? Save me.

Up high, he doesn't remove his eyes from you. With the use of sign language, he can't listen in, and he can't tell whether he needs to intervene or not. There's nothing wrong with going to check, right? Or will he seem possessive, or scared? He doesn't want people to think he doesn't want you to talk to anyone. It's good that you get to sign to someone other than him and Velvette, right?

The camera starts rolling, and you square your shoulders, adjusting your sleeves for more mobility. The news reporter throws the microphone at the cameraman, who does not catch it but ignores it as she shows off her brightest smile.

"Hello, ladies and gentlemen, I have the sweetest person in hell with me, [y/n]! Tell me, how long have you two been together?"

Of course, the news has been recognizing you recently. You've been seen countless times adjusting Vox's tie (he purposely fucks it up so that you'll step close to him) as well as wrapping your arm around his and pinching the corner of his screen endearingly before you give him a babying compliment. Many people have taken pictures and edited hearts around you two. People are obsessed with how "heavenly" your relationship is.

"Oh, many months now!" You nod to yourself, trying to stop your eyes from shining with admiration. You always get so soft when you think about him; it's one of the things people notice. She looks at him as if he's her entire world.

"Beautiful!" The reporter puffs out her bottom lip innocently. "I'm sure you make that man very happy."

What do you even say to that? I hope so.

"The happiest."

"Now," she doesn't hesitate to change the topic. "Are there any challenges you two face about your... differences?"

Your eyebrows raise before furrowing in confusion. Differences? At first, you think she means his television head, but when she notices you pause, she rudely clarifies. "I mean, with your lack of hearing, you know? Don't you find it a little embarrassing?"

You lean your body away from her. "What are you saying?"

The shock of the tonal shift has you freezing in place. The reporter looks at the camera, her eyes squinting with sadistic amusement. Her fingers twitch as she lifts her arm, not even looking at you before plucking the hearing aid from your ears. She crushes it in her hand.

At first, you grab your ear, pressing your hand to it in disbelief. Your face contorts, your shoulders dropping as you try to step away. Why couldn't you see this coming? And on television—is that where this is airing? The air around you goes quiet, the sensation of spatial awareness fading a bit as you stumble back, your hand still grasping your ear. The watch on your wrist hits your cheek, and without a second thought, you tap on the screen repeatedly. The next thing that popped into your head: her bravery is the most surprising.

With a brief fall of light, Vox stands where the lady once was. You eye him with uncertainty, a look you have never given him. He faces the cameraman, not looking your way. Your eyes go up and down his body; his stance is tense, his arms are folded behind his back, and his fingers sparking with small glimmers of electricity.

You see that lying behind him is the woman, body entirely limp, smoke coming from her mouth, and her eyes looking stuck open.

He speaks to the camera, pointing his finger at it, staring intensely into the shaking, blinking red light. Your hands link around his bicep. Composure, you remind yourself. You turn to the camera with a weary smile and lean your head against him.

"That'll never happen again." He stares at himself in the mirror. His dressers and tables are filled with claw marks from his previous meltdowns.

You just sit on his bed, crossing your legs uncomfortably, watching him as he goes back and forth between signing to you and mumbling to himself. You haven't said a word. You just keep your eyes on him.

He protected you in the way he knew best. He wanted nothing more than to put his hands on the sides of her head and crush her skull. It would stain his suit, awful. Even worse, your suit would have been ruined, too.

Should he force you to move into the tower? He's always wanted to. The commute would be no more, and you'd be safe from the outside.

Should he prevent you from leaving at all without him? No, that might be too much, but his entire body craves to keep you secure and protected.

He won't ask you what you want. He knows there's a chance you would just coddle him and tell him it's okay. There's no reality where he will do nothing; he must devise his own plan. But first (actually, secondly, after getting his anger out on his furniture), he wants to make sure his sweetheart is okay.

Once he calmed down and sat next to you, rubbing your thigh, he watched as you scrolled through social media, looking at the hundreds of people laughing and reposting the event. He shuts off your phone, grabs it, and tosses it across the room. You roll your eyes helplessly before he lifts his hands and signs to you.

"I will track everyone down and punish them severely, baby. No one will ever touch you again, or else they will the next flashing headline."

"I know, baby," you wrap your arms around his chest and lean into him, rubbing your cheek against the smoothness of his overcoat.

You hum against him, finding it in yourself to smile softly. Protector, protector, protector. You run those words through your head; they're comforting to their own extent. Suppose he ends up locking you inside the tower. In that case, it's better than him leaving you entirely over this (which, obviously, he'd never actually do). Spending every morning and night with him wouldn't be wrong. Everything happens for a reason.

He leans back onto the bed, his feet dangling off as you curl into his side.

Before resting completely, you use a hand to sign into his chest. "Everything will be fine."

Your coddling, though annoying, provides the most relaxing warmth to his body. He groans, wrapping an arm lazily around you, feeling the usual butterflies in his stomach as you press a small kiss to his collarbone.

Velvette

♥ word count: 1.6k ♥ warnings: reader speaks, party scene, getting harassed by a man, vox is in this too ♥ a/n: i completely headcanon that velvette took an asl class in highschool when she was alive, i have no idea how velvette usually acts in fanfiction so this is MY velvette now

Velvette found you, such a pretty thing, in your little corner of the internet, making content for your little community. That little corner of yours is where you told the news and interpreted a lot of banter from the overlords. Your channel was the perfect mix of education and drama, all for the Deaf community in Hell.

You were, as Velvette described, a tea channel.

She invited you to the V tower to show you around. The three V's introduced themselves to you in their own way, offering you a job. The bossman, ever so gentlemanly and charming, didn't let Valentino try and make sex motions to you for longer than necessary. And before Velvette forced Vox to scurry off, she forced him to snap a few pics of you posing with her as a faux collab.

You weren't stupid. You knew Velvette only wanted your attention to spread whatever brand she endeavored to popularize. But this might be a golden opportunity. You'd learn the behind-the-scenes from three different overlords, and the content you can produce will gather insane traction.

Velvette is just so sweet; the way she showed her care for you was just through gift-giving.

She loved putting together gift boxes for you, similar to the sorority kind. The boxes went from cute little baskets to a cardboard box resembling a PR send. These would always be set on your desk with a bit of note from her, each time she'd signed off her name with a heart.

Jackets, shoes, candies, jewelry, pens, everything. The gifts are versatile with familiar themes of hearts. Every day was like Valentine's Day when she was 'courting' you (did she even realize she was?).

She made you bags: totes, crossbody bags, clutches, phone pouches, coin purses, anything she thought you would need with an array of colors to match any outfit. She put in hair clips and pocket mirrors, cozy slippers and fancy journals.

She even got you two matching bracelets.

You love the smirk she wears whenever she notices you adorning anything she's given to you. Damn right, she thinks, I knew it would look good.

The most enormous box she'd ever given you was the day before one of her fashion shows. Inside were glorious clothes from her collection, all for you to pick out and wear. She really loved her stripes.

You put your hearing aid on, smiling at yourself in the mirror as you watch the charm she made you glisten in the light. With your bracelet ornamenting your wrist, you pat down your stripped outfit before taking a deep breath.

Your entrance reeks of reluctance. The temptation to retreat back to your room is unbearable. Seeing Velvette will definitely lift your mood; where is she? Surely, she'd be the highlight of the room, but amongst all the women with their eccentric colors and clothing shapes, you can't find your eye drawing to her anywhere.

The sounds of the party blend together in a nasty concoction; you can't help but turn your hearing aids off. The sound is similar to what it's like being outside in a heavy storm; the wind, the pouring rain, the blur and whine of the hearing aids. And instead of lingering by the double doors, you push into the crowd. You're the least recognizable in the crowd of celebrities, but it doesn't stop people from moving out of the way when you try to wiggle through. You're wearing stripes, her stripes. You're either bold or very special to her; they don't want to intervene.

But your stripes also get some people to stare at you longer than they would have otherwise. Across the room, in front of you, you notice a tall, almost shirtless model coming your way, directly staring at you. You break the quick eye contact before squeezing through a cluster of girls taking selfies. They won't let you through, grimacing but not laying any hands on you. When you turn to go the other way, the man is behind you, holding out his hand, waiting for you to put your hand in his.

You click on your hearing aid and scroll up. "What did you say?" You ask verbally, clearing your throat a bit.

His eyes bounce from yours to your hand, looking at what you're touching. His head tilts in interest. You don't like the sight of his smile.

"Oh wow." He says.

Immediately, "Yeah, no," Velvette puts her hands on your shoulders and tries to push you away. "I swear, don't even look at him, he's fucking insane."

He speaks over her, but you can't process his words over how close Velvette's lips are to your ear. Her warm breath sends goosebumps down your arms, and your spine straightens. This only makes her hum in amusement.

After turning and growling at him, she effortlessly maneuvers you away. Eyes watch you even closer now as she touches you. You let her guide you throughout the room with not a clue as to where she's leading you, if anywhere. But eventually, you two end up in front of a mirror the size of a wall.

She stares at you through the mirror. "Look at you," she signs, "extravagant as ever, darling."

"Thanks to you."

"Obviously." And she bumps her hip into yours. You laugh, mimicking the motion back.

You had ditched your initial motive of getting close to the V's to gain more information about them. They were fine people to hang out with, making you laugh and feel involved. Velvette gave you special attention that nobody in your afterlife has ever given. Her lipstick left stains on your cheek whenever she kissed you, and she made an 'appointment' in her schedule once a week to paint your nails the same black color as hers.

The afternoon went by quickly; you spent time clapping and watching models show off their garb. Velvette is a true talent.

But something ruined your evening. The air hummed with laughter and the rhythmic beat of music. Velvette had been whisked away by the other V's to overlook the crowd and count the people who had attended. Among the colorful crowd stood a familiar figure whose eyes sparkled with mischief. Different from last time, you don't notice when he starts to approach again.

"You," he coos, placing his hand under your chin. You must stare at his lips to comprehend his words over the music, an awful innuendo you wish you could have avoided. He leaned in closer to you, and in return, you leaned back. Valentino had told you a bunch of times to not worry if someone puts their hands on you, that it's a typical formality in Hell. You would always roll your eyes at him, never expecting a stranger to grab you like this.

You were mentally preparing yourself to dodge a kiss. But then, daringly, he leaned in and gently plucked the hearing aid from behind your ear, holding it aloft like a trophy. Fear flickered across your face, your hand instinctively reaching for it, but he pulled it away. The charm Velvette gave you dangles like a jewel.

"Don't," you say with desperation. He puts a finger in front of your face and waves it back and forth. He coos, using that hand to grab your face as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

Your eyes are locked on the charm, and it's brash jolts. You almost beg for him to just give you the charm back.

In the middle of a conversation with Vox, Velvette raises an eyebrow; shocked and pissed, she glared at whoever had torn off your hearing aid. She mumbles, "I'd tear their hearing aid off and break it."

Before she can move closer to you, Vox puts his hand in front of her while watching the interaction. "Think before acting, Velvette."

Her frustration turns into anger as she pushes his hand away. He lets her run off; he holds a hard stare as her pink hair bobs through the crowd.

Your eyes are stuck wide with shock, and a million things run through your head, all relating to the appropriate situational response.

True to your casual self, you were having a hard time not just jamming your hand in his eyes and kicking his shins. Would you make Velvette mad? Vox?--Would that result in you being removed from the V Tower? It's all so complicated. Though you were panicking over a 'quick' decision, you and the man stayed in that position for a few seconds. He stayed laughing, dropping the hearing aid and stomping on it.

At almost the same time, Velvette threw a glass from someone's hand at the man, perfectly aimed, hitting him in the face. She lets out a small "nice!" before rushing to you.

Her hand runs down your face, and she holds you tenderly, not turning to face Vox as he puts himself between her and the man. Your eyes bounce around the entire room. Will you ever get a break from being at the center of attention?

"We're leaving. Now." she signs in a single motion so quick that it makes you smile, relieving some of the stress that's been making your head pound. She's able to sign so naturally now.

The crowd splits into two.

Behind the both of you, Vox is declaring an end to the event, apologizing to the people for the inconvenience. Velvette keeps muttering about him under her breath; you can see her lips moving and her face grimacing.

She has beads in front of her, a bunch of small charms with string. She signs, looking up at you. "I should have killed him."

You just watch her craft another charm, laying on her bed and kicking your feet. "That would have been funny."

She scoffs and smiles, her painted lips turning upwards. Her fingers trace over the beads, deciding which one to pick up. She wants to make it different than the last one, but what should it look like? She picks up a pink heart with a slight hum before sliding it down onto the string. She whispers to herself, perfect.

Valentino

♥ word count: 1.7k ♥ note: reader is a vodka drinker, i'm obsessed with writing a loving valentino, reader doesn't talk very much and prefers sign, sexually suggestive things happening but it's not nsfw, kinda written like ass, drugs mentioned but no named just symptoms, takes place on porn set, valentino kills someone, blood description

Every time you step into the studio, you're hit by the smell of sex, mostly the sweetened stench of that strawberry lube he loves so much. Visiting his work is not usually something you do often, but he's seem to be so busy lately that you can't help but bring him a drink, the most beautiful drink in hell: vanilla vodka. You can already see him licking him lips.

Strawberry lube, so prominent in your nose.

His legs are crossed and he stares at the scene in front of him, his sunglasses hiding whatever his emotions are, but his lips are still in a prominent scowl.

Though, when he sees you, his expression changes drastically. He stands with so much excitement that the actors stop to see what he's reacting to. All eyes are on you, you shy away from the attention a bit but Val doesn't seem to notice, else care.

"Amor mío!" One of his hands signs, running down his cheek while his bottom two motions for a hug.

Before you can initiate a hug, he wraps his arms around you and brings you into his chest, trapping your arms in. He's warm, vibrantly so, it's hard not to melt against him. You couldn't be surprised if you let out a small moan at the contact. Oh, how I've missed you so much.

He pulls away quicker than you'd like and takes the bottle from your hand, holding it up close to his face so he can examine it. "Burnett's, oh you shouldn't have!"

He hesitates, torn between his responsibilities and the irresistible allure of having a drink with the person he was enamored with. He's not so easy to whisk away from work, therefore (of course), you seem to be the only person who he is at every beck and call.

You smile softly, "I knew you'd like it."

With a laugh, he takes your hand and spins you, his free hands popping open the bottle, ready to embark on whatever journey you had in store.

He turns and addresses his employees, granting them a small break before turning to you with his sharp smile.

And together, you slip away from the set, leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the studio for a simple moment of peace and luxury. Walls blazed with hues of pink and blue, you both find yourselves nestled on the fluffy couch in a lounge, a wineglass in your hand while he chugs from the bottle.

"You've been so busy." You sign. You switch the wineglass into your non dominant hand to avoid spilling any of the contents. Val holds the bottle with his bottom set of hands while signing with his top ones (he was originally going to do it the other way around).

“I know, princesa,” one of his hands comes up and squeezes your cheek. “Business calls, I cannot help myself.”

“Which is why I came to visit.”

The two of you clink glass upon glass before taking a drink. He’s trying not to finish the drink before you, he’s making sure to take his time. He doesn’t want you to leave as much as he doesn’t want to rush the break. His eyes go over your entire form and take you in, there feels like an eternity since he saw you last. Why do you have so much patience for someone like him? It’s astonishing. Surely someone as beautiful as you could find someone sweeter than her. But he’s grateful to have you, he’s mildly addicted to that internal battle of whether he wants to cherish you or own you (perhaps he can do both? Something he’s never done before).

“What?” You ask.

“Hm?” His fingers pinch together in the casual way of signing.

“You’re staring at me.”

“I can’t resist.”

“What were you thinking about?” You sign and lean forward, giving him bright eyes. Your gaze swallows him, moth to a flame.

He matches your body language, “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amor mío.”

When he tries to grab your hand, you pull away. “You're acting as if you're wine drunk.” You sign. You have a sappy smile as you put your glass to your lips.

“Never,” he wiggles his fingers as he signs. You eye him carefully, debating asking if he's kept his favorite gun on him. There's nothing worse than a drunk Valentino.

After the wine break, he has to go back to work. He feels himself getting irritated as he walks back, why can't he just continue spending the day with you? Is it worth sending everybody home? No, he has a job to do, and he needs to complete it before relaxation. But maybe he'll consider taking breaks (his least favorite word) to spend time with you.

You follow, both of your hands holding his, clinging onto him like a child.

Everybody was still in the studio, waiting for his return, not daring to leave in fear of him coming back. Actors were talking to each other casually, away from the camera, it built a strange sense of community for you. They're so nice to each other off-camera.

He drags you to his chair still holding your hand as he sits in it.

Drinking with you had been a much-needed respite from these people. He made a mental note to gift you more wine.

You remove your hands from his and smile. “Get back to work, baby.”

Pearly white, sharp teeth show through his large smile. He presses his lips against each of your knuckles while his eyes skin over all of his actors, counting them. He makes eye contact with one particular one, a woman. They stare at each other for more than a second. She's scowling at him and he squints his eyes at her. The fuck is your problem?

She usually looks at him with sultry looks, but now there's a sharpness to them.

But his eyes peel away from her and go back to you, he leans forward and presses a slow kiss to your forehead. He signs low, almost as if he's whispering a secret. "I'll come see you after."

You smile and start turning away. "Good."

Upon noticing your departure, the actors and crew start returning to their places, keeping an eye on Valentino and any commands he might make. Their eyes are always on him, worried to test his anger. But not all the actors were worried about testing his anger.

"Hey," an actress grabs your hand before you could reach the door and you turn to her. She talks, her voice making your hearing aids buzz, "Are you guys like, dating? Are you dating the Valentino? Like, literally one of the V's."

Her words all bunch into one. You blink, taking time to think about both what she could be asking and the connotation behind it. "Yes?" It sounds more like a question than an answer. Is that the correct response?

She hums and nods, her eyes wide in amazement. Her pupils are large. Her cheeks are hollow and she has strong eyebags. With a distant sound from Val, him talking to the crew, she looks back at him before turning to you. "I mean like, why? Why would he want you?"

Oh no. You try to move away but she just follows you, stepping in front of you closer. It's like being cornered, being trapped in an almost unavoidable situation.

"Why wouldn't he?" You test with a squint of your eyes.

She just smiles at you. "Uhm," and her arm reaches over, grabbing the hearing aid from your ear, pinching it between her claws, "Obviously this."

You reach for it but she pulls it away from you, trying not to laugh.

So you do what you know is the best solution, you call his name, practically screaming it. "Val!"

At the sound of you using your voice he whips his head around. The air goes still, you can tell from the way she pauses. Her pause is only for a second, she reeks of hesitance and sudden worry. She looks at the hearing aid in her hand as if she's finally realizing what she had done and what was about to happen.

Before she can say another word, her entire body stiffs, her eyes widen before her pupils roll back. And then she's on the floor, almost falling onto you.

You wipe blood from your cheek and groan.

Val stares at you, his expression unreadable. In his hand is his jeweled gun. He pauses for a moment to take a long drag of his cigarette, letting out a cloud of red smoke before he looks at his gun with a toothy smile until he tucks it back into his belt.

He starts to approach you and for a second you're scared, it was a primal feeling. He walked like a king.

All you can do is watch him, frozen in place.

The first thing he does when he reaches you is bend in front of her body, plucking the hearing aid from her hand. It's bloody, the liquid drips from it as he lifts it up. He wipes some of it off on his shirt before handing it to you. He drops it into your open hands.

He speaks, knowing you'd have a hard time understanding. "Laying her slutty hands on my angel..."

You lean into his touch when he caresses your face. His eyes gaze at you, softening, his smile widening at how soft your eyes look. You're his greatest treasure. He gets off immensely from protecting you, he would ravish you to death in this moment if he could. Valentinos eyes drift down at the body and his pupils narrows as he glares at the dead woman. He's going to have to clean this up. Her blood is getting every where.

One of his thumbs rub against your cheek, touching the bloody smear. It stains your skin in a delectable way. So perfect.

He melts when he sees your soft eyes slowly start to match the mischievous smile growing on your face. He protected you and he was open about being dithered over her behavior, he didn't laugh at it or tease you about it. You don't doubt for an instant that he's the man of your dreams. He killed someone for you in an instant.

When you take his thumb into your mouth, sucking the blood, his spine straightens. He pulls away immediately and turns around, yelling at the his workers that filming will be cut short today.

He just can't wait any longer to spend some lovely time with you.

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #x reader #deaf community #x deaf reader #x deaf s/o #velvette x reader #valentino x reader #velvette hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel

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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago

Note

hello!!! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 for dilf!konig? I didn't think I would be into it, but I read it and... it's awakened something in me. i need more dilf!konig

thank you!!!!!!!

A/n: so you, my lovely little sluts, seem to really like my smutty silly headcanons. But don’t worry babies, I have some more to satiate your hunger😌

Part 1 here

Dilf! König headcanons pt 2

Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, fem! reader, age-gap implied, unprotected sex, cheating (I know, I’m sorry🙄), nasty nastiness

Dilf! König, whom you reach out the next day with a cute “hi, it’s me Y/n<3” text, and a few hours later end up in his hotel room, pressed onto plush mattress of his king sized bed as König bullied his throbbing cock into your poor drooly pussy, meaty thighs hitting your ass with loud smacking sounds that, along with your shameless moans and whimpers, bounced off the tall walls, causing hotel staff to knock onto room’s door, asking as politely as possible to be more quiet in order not to disturb other hotel guests (*cough* the whole fucking floor *cough*).

Dilf! König, who, while still at your place, takes his godchild and you to the aquapark under the guise of “spending some quality time with younglings while he can”. You can’t stop sneaking glances at his massive chiseled body, decorated with numerous battle scars, laughing nervously as your best friend asks if everything is okay, since you’ve been zoning out too much lately.

Dilf! König, who riles you you absolutely stupid in the privacy of a small cafeteria bathroom as his godchild aka your best friend is way too occupied trying out all of these crazy slides to actually pay any attention to the two of you. He cums so much inside of your puffy cunny, sliding your thong back in place and murmuring “want you to carry a piece of me wherever you go” sweetly into your ear, smacking your ass playfully as you leave on trembling legs, exiting himself a few moments later as to rise no suspicions.

Dilf! König, who smirks ever so slightly when he sees some young dudes approximately your age unsuccessfully trying to hit on you, failing miserably to gain even a second of your blissful attention. He notices how you rub your thighs together ever so slightly, and if he watches closely enough, König may even see a little dark spot on your bottoms - his pearly cum oozing out of your fucked-out pussy, staining bright fabric of your sexy swimsuit.

Dilf! König, who buys you tickets to Vienna in first class and pays for your luxurious hotel room, just so you can meet again. He greets you with a huge bouquet of tulips (bc roses are plain as fuck, duh🙄) at the airport, giving you a warm hug and asking how your journey was, driving to his favorite restaurant to feed you some traditional Austrian food. He shows you around all the significant places of Vienna, giving you a little excursion, telling your all the stories and myths behind certain places.

Dilf! König, who that night has you splayed out onto huge queen-sized bed of your hotel room, eating your pretty pussy out like a man starved, sucking on your needy puffy clit and fucking your tight hole with three thick fingers while desperately rutting his hips into soft mattress, trying to get at least some type of friction against his achingly hard dick.

Dilf! König who soon has you begging for his heavy cock inside of your pussy, fucking your brains out until you’re a babbling silly mess writhing on white sheets, nothing more than a boneless puddle in his skilled hands. And he is more than happy to comply with all your little whims.

Dilf! König, who actually has a wife with whom he has been married for over ten years. The spark between them long gone, it’s more like two acquaintances living together rather than a married couple - continuing sharing one house and one bed more out of a habit - simply because both are used to that, not bothered enough to move out. Both König and his wife are perfectly aware of each other’s flings on the side, but still not caring enough to actually do something about it. All hopes of saving their marriage are long gone and forgotten, none of two having any wish to actually deal with their spouse.

Dilf! König who takes special interest in you. You, pretty little thing, so youthful and full or energy, so hopelessly romantic with heart so full of love that König almost drowns in it. You are the sparkle he so lacks in his grey taunted life, you’re the positive adrenaline he craves so much. You give him butterflies flaring in his guts and electric shocks running down his spine whenever König’s lips meet yours in a searing kiss - and he quickly became addicted to that feeling, not planning on letting go of you anytime soon.

Dilf! König who basically becomes your sugar daddy. He loves spoiling his precious baby, lavishing you with designer clothes and fancy jewelry, taking you to vacations all around the world whenever he has time free from work. He makes a lot of money as a colonel - so much that he doesn’t know what to do with it. So why not spurge on his favorite girl? And what König likes even more is to rip these unbelievably expensive togs off, revealing your sexy body; to see all these sparkly jewels jiggle and kling softly as he pounds you with his thick cock, watching your face contort in pleasure so strong it almost hurts, but you’re way too greedy to stop him, only begging for more.

Dilf! König, who has absolutely no idea how this all is going to end up like. Numerous scenarios and possibilities playing in his head nonstop - finally divorcing his wife and marrying you instead. You getting over him and moving on with your own life, leaving König and everything related to him behind. Him getting killed on one of the missions, and you not having a single clue as to why he so suddenly disappeared. These and many others - but one thing König is absolutely fucking sure of is that he will never get bored of you. And no matter what happens, he’ll never turn you, his little angel, down. You’re his favorite precious girl, after all<3

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give us writers some love!<3

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joelscurls · 1 year ago

Text

give in to temptation

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

words: 5.5k

summary: you're in a relationship now — a good, healthy relationship — that doesn't stop you from texting your ex Javi late at night.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, post Narcos s3, porn with plot, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, sexting, infidelity (I do not condone cheating, but unfortunately it's hot when it's with Javi), reference to masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names (cariño, querida, baby, etc.); lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: hi! enjoy 5kish words of dubious morals bc I couldn't get this idea out of my head :)

Humidity clings to the walls, bedsheets strewn across your legs damp with sweat. You kick at them aimlessly, and the cotton grips tighter to slick skin.

In the curve of your palm rests your phone, ringer switched off and brightness turned all the way down — the last thing you want is to wake your boyfriend, dozing next to you as you text another man.

Your fingers are clammy where they wrap around metal, sweat pooling in the divots between your knuckles.

This is wrong; you know it’s wrong, just like every time preceding this one. But the guilt does nothing to slow the adrenaline racing through your veins. If anything, it makes your heart thump harder.

That, and the words pixelated on the tiny screen of your flip-phone.

Javi [2:03am]: I’ve been thinking about you all day, cariño. Got me so hard.

You’d met Javier Peña just over a year ago.

A young woman alone at the bar, you’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had dark brooding eyes and a savior complex that’d been made more apparent with each story he’d shared about his time as a DEA attaché in Colombia, from which he’d recently returned.

Do you miss it? you’d asked, nursing a martini.

Like hell, he’d said. But I have nothing left to give.

I don’t know if I believe you, you’d countered with a wink.

Not an hour later, you’d found yourself in his living room, dress hiked up to your waist as he devoured you.

Sex with Javi was easy, mindless. For a while, his body served as a refuge for you after shitty days at work and arguments with your overbearing mother. A lone beacon in the fog, he was always more than willing to help you forget the stressors in your life. And your own name.

It was passionate, and filthy, and sticky — left your legs trembling and your head dizzy — each and every time.

With him, you didn’t have to talk. Didn’t have to think. It was just sex, with no strings and no labels. Your relationship, if you could call it that, was perpetuated by the transcendent pleasure you felt in the spaces between words, when your mouths were preoccupied.

But when your birthday came and went and you found yourself another year older, an aching feeling settled in your gut — a feeling that time had begun to pass more quickly than it used to. And on its heels came the desire for something more, something you knew Javi was not willing to provide: a relationship.

The decision to end things was mutual, amicable. It was the easiest “breakup” you’d ever gone through. Maybe because it wasn’t a “breakup” at all.

A few weeks later, you’d met Nathan, a law student with a polite disposition and an eagerness to settle down. He’d treated you well, the type to open doors for you and ask about your day. On all fronts, he was a good man — a little boring, but good.

After a month, you made it official. After two, he moved into your place.

And you stopped thinking about Javi, about the way his large hand had fit perfectly around your throat, the way he’d been able to coax you to orgasm in two different languages. No, you only thought about the man in front of you, the one with the steadily growing collection of argyle ties and the unstamped passport.

Sex with Nathan was admittedly different. He didn’t make you cum as quickly or as easily; your body didn’t crave his with the same amount of fervor it had Javier’s. But it was loving, sweet, what any woman would want…should want.

And it was normal that you thought about your ex sometimes when your current partner laid his weight on top of you, that you imagined a different mouth slotted against your neck or on your tits. Because certainly, everyone did that every once in a while. It was harmless.

As long as you never uttered his name out loud, he’d remain only in your head, lost to time to exist there forevermore.

But then came the day in the grocery store, on your date to the cereal aisle to restock Nathan’s favorite, bran flakes. He’d materialized like a ghost of good sex’s past.

You didn’t dare speak to him, didn’t trust yourself to. Under the bright fluorescent lights, you’d felt your palms begin to sweat, your throat constrict, eyes glued to the selection of boxes in front of you. But while Nathan debated between store brand and name brand, you’d snuck another cautious glance at him.

Javi’s expression was unreadable. He’d looked between you and Nathan as if he were trying to solve a rubix cube. One he was becoming increasingly frustrated by. He’d gripped the handle of his shopping cart so tightly, the skin on his knuckles appeared near translucent.

And then he’d disappeared, tiny wheels on the carriage screeching, noise barely audible over your pulse.

The first text came later that night.

Are you seeing someone? it’d read.

Yes, you’d replied. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk.

You’d quickly established ground rules: messages would only be exchanged after midnight, never two nights in a row, no calls, and — most importantly — Nathan would never find out.

Okay, Javi had said. Just one more rule: don’t use his name with me.

To your right, Nathan snores, the singular catch of an inhale in his throat, and the noise jolts you, face heating as if you’ve been caught.

Then he shifts, turns on his side, away from you. You feel a strange wash of relief. A semblance of privacy that you shouldn’t be after.

You respond to Javier with your tongue between your teeth.

You [2:04am]: thinking about me doing what?

Javi [2:06am]: Riding me. Your tits in my face. My hands on your ass.

Your breath catches, attention abruptly pulled to the incessant throbbing between your legs.

You definitely shouldn’t sneak to the bathroom and touch yourself. Shouldn’t send Javi a grainy photo of your fingers in your panties. Shouldn’t make yourself cum with your ex-lover’s name on your lips.

Not for the third time this week.

But when your cunt inadvertently clenches around nothing, your judgment is suddenly clouded.

With one last glance at the sleeping form beside you, you clamber to your feet and tiptoe down the hallway, wetness dripping down your thighs as you go.

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click. You fumble for the lightswitch, eyes reflexively squeezing shut when the room brightens.

You hover over the sink, steadying yourself against porcelain with one hand while you type furiously with the other.

You [2:10am]: yeah? you wanna suck on my tits?

The mirror parallel you reflects something out of a thriller, your pupils fully dilated and your forehead glistening with sweat. You almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at you in all her depravity.

You slump to the floor. Rest with your back to the side of the tub.

Javi [2:11am]: Dying to. Always felt so fucking perfect in my mouth.

Desperate fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, into your panties. The phone balances precariously in your other hand, thumb stumbling over buttons on the keypad.

You [2:12am]: I miss your cock.

Javi [2:13am]: That’s right, querida. Best you ever had, huh?

You [2:13am]: Yes. Always made me feel so fucking good.

Javi [2:15am]: Fuck. Are you touching yourself?

You swirl two digits at your entrance, amply coating them in your slick before dragging them up to your swollen clit. You can’t stifle the moan that slips past your lips.

You [2:16am]: yes

Javi [2:16am]: good girl

The phone distractedly tumbles from your grasp, clinking against tile as you begin to work yourself toward the brink.

And then — there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

The room spins, walls suddenly shrinking in on you as you wrench your hand out of your panties. Nathan’s voice on the other side is muffled, by the exhaust fan and by the ringing in your ears. But you can just decipher his words, his voice laden with sleep.

“Babe? Are you okay? I thought I heard-“

“Fine, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you say, scrambling to your feet, wiping wet fingers on your shorts.

The doorknob jostles, and it dawns on you then that you’d forgotten to fucking lock it.

“No! Don’t come in,” you sputter. The door hitches, less than an inch cracked. “I just had a stomach ache, but I’m okay now. I’ll be back in bed in a minute.”

“Oh.” He yawns. Pulls it shut again. “Okay.”

You brace yourself against the sink, struggling to slow your racing heart.

With a flush of the empty toilet, Nathan’s footsteps recede down the hall and out of earshot. You wash your hands, then, fingers shaking under the stream of lukewarm water.

You dry them hastily, not bothering to pick up the towel when it slides off the rail and onto the floor.

You [2:21am]: gotta go. sorry.

Javi [2:22am]: ???

Nathan is far too kind the following morning. He sets a plate of buttered toast and a mug of peppermint tea out for you on the kitchen table, and presses a nauseatingly gentle kiss to your forehead as you eat.

His amber eyes scan you like he’s searching for any indicators that you’re still hurting, fingers anxiously carding through his sandy hair.

You’re sure he’s clocked the dark circles marking your undereyes — not that he knows the real reason for them.

“I’m fine,” you promise when you feel him staring.

“Are you sure?” he probes. “The noise you made was…intense; you sounded really pained.”

Pained? Not exactly.

“I know.” You stuff the last bite of toast into your mouth. Tilt the empty plate toward him.

“But I’m okay; see? Even have an appetite this morning. It was just a weird bug or something.”

The lie burns on the way out, scalds your throat. But Nathan buys it. Doesn’t ask any further questions.

Still, he tells you to take it easy today on his way out the door.

You can’t look him in the eye when you insist that you will.

You call out of work, too sick with self-loathing to show your face in the office. Instead, you mope around all day, attempt to distract yourself with the overflowing hamper of laundry in the closet.

It’s futile though, your brain paralyzed by thoughts of Nathan finding out about the affair, and the clothes remain unwashed.

He returns that evening with a plastic bag in his clutch, the local pharmacy’s logo printed on the front.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a brand new heating pad. “I realized last night that we didn’t have one of these laying around.”

You know, at that moment, that you need to end things with Javi.

Nathan is good to you. He loves you with actions, not just words. Thinks of you before he thinks of himself, in every situation. And you — you’re cheating on him. Taking advantage of him. Not even trying to be what he deserves.

You’ll try harder. To love him, to think of him. No longer will you give in to brainless, animalistic needs. Surely, you can mimic the passion you have with someone else if you just try.

Try, try, try. You can do it.

Sleep evades you that night, coming in brief stints and leaving you breathless when you wake.

In those conscious moments, the analog clock in the corner of the room taunts you, glaring red neon making your head pound.

After three straight hours of tossing and turning, you decide it can’t wait any longer.

You fish your cellphone off the nightstand. Snap it open.

You [3:23am]: We need to end this before things get ugly.

You’re sure he won’t be awake this late; not without reason. But then — the screen blinks.

Javi [3:24am]: Nothing’s going to get ugly. Please, cariño.

You [3:24am]: I almost got caught last night. I don’t want to hurt him.

Javi [3:25am]: Can we talk about this? Javi [3:25am]: In person?

Your heart palpitates. For a moment, you swear it stops altogether.

You [3:26am]: What the hell? No Javi, I can’t.

Javi [3:27am]: C’mon. Just talk. Don’t you think you owe me that?

Your eyes flit to Nathan.

You watch him for a long moment: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slouch of his shoulders, the gape of his mouth.

He’s well and truly asleep. You’re sure you could sneak away without him waking. Slip out the door and get a cab to Javier’s, talk things through, and be back in bed before the sun rises — before Nathan even knows you’ve left.

And then everything will be just as it was before you messed this up. You can leave Javi in the past, where he belongs.

Of course, you’re not just going to talk. Deep in your bones, you know that. Know that when he’s there in front of you, you’ll be too weak to resist any of his advances.

Still, you play coy. Ignore the spring of excitement tightening in your abdomen.

In a move of finality, one which you know you won’t be able to come back from, you stand. Make your way into your closet to pull some pants and a t-shirt on, your cell phone clutched in your hand.

You [3:30am]: Fine.

Javier sends you his address — as if you’d have forgotten it. As if the name of his apartment complex isn’t permanently etched behind your eyelids, along with the wide slope of his shoulders and the plush of his bottom lip.

When the cab pulls up to the curb, the driver is visibly concerned. His bushy, gray brows thread together and his narrowed eyes catch yours in the rearview more than once on the drive across town.

It’s only when you reach Javi’s building and hand over your fare that the man speaks.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Quite late for you to be out on your own.”

His voice crackles, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy on his breath, and it’s strangely comforting.

“Yeah,” you promise as you push the door open and step out.

He rolls his window down, anxiously watching as you maneuver your way to the front door. And then he’s driving off, headlights vanishing into the thick night.

Javier lets you up on the first buzz. He’s waiting for you in the entryway of his apartment, leaning with a large hand pressed to the doorframe.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him: shirtless, bronze skin cast in the dim yellow light of the corridor.

His eyes rake over you the moment you’re in front of him, lingering when they catch on your collarbone, your breasts, your legs. He looks so imposing like this. You find yourself unable to move; frozen under his silent, lustful gaze.

“Are you — can I come in?” you ask meekly.

He nods then, a slow lift of his chin. Steps backward into darkness. You will yourself to take one step, and then another, following him over the threshold and past the point of no return.

It feels so odd to be here, in his space, with the intention of doing anything other than fucking. If you look close enough, you swear you can make out the shape of your body imprinted in the couch cushions, can hear lingering echoes of climaxes reached with your face shoved into one of his decorative pillows — can feel them, too.

Arousal pulls between your thighs. You ignore it.

You wonder how many other women have been here since you, have taken Javi in their hands or their mouths or their cunts. How many names that aren’t yours has he chanted in the throes of passion?

And — moreover — why do you care?

You don’t. You definitely don’t.

Javi pours you a glass of wine, fills a crystal with whiskey for himself. He flicks a lamp on, casting the room in an orange glow, and settles into the couch You follow his lead, perching yourself on one of the arm rests apprehensively.

“So,” you start. “About what we’ve been…doing-“

He cuts you off with a quirk of his brow, a flinch of his jaw.

“Javi,” you try again. “This has to — we can’t-”

“You’re sure you want to break it off, cariño?” His voice comes out low, dark.

And the thing is — you’re not sure. You wish you were, wish you had the strength to tell him definitively that it’s over, to go home to your boyfriend and block Javi’s number on the way out.

But the flex of his bicep when he hooks his arm behind his head, the knowing smirk playing on his lips, his cock — which you can’t see, but know is long and thick under his jeans — it all makes your head feel heavy.

You let the weight of it drop between your shoulders, hang there as you silently search for just a particle of sanity left in your being. You come up empty.

“Fuck,” you hiss, claw your fingers into your scalp. “This is — fuck.”

Leather groans under Javi’s weight. He stands. Steps in front of you.

You don’t dare look at him, not until he pinches your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to meet his. His eyes are charcoal-black, something devious swimming behind blown pupils.

“Baby,” he croons. “Why did you really come here?”

You play dumb. “What do you mean? To — to talk.”

His thumb skates along the underside of your jaw, soft and placating.

“We’re not really gonna talk — are we?”

Your head spins, mind clouded by Javier’s words, his touch. You sense yourself losing resolve just as he pulls you upright by both hands.

You’re so close like this; can taste the whiskey on his breath, can feel the warmth of his exhale against your skin.

His mouth moves to the shell of your ear, voice a mere whisper when he speaks again.

“Wanna know what I think, querida?” he asks, palm flattening at your lower back, pushing you flush against him. “I think you came here because texting wasn’t enough anymore, huh? Think you missed me.”

And the truth is, you have missed him — painfully so. You’ve missed the timbre of his voice, the caress of his hands, the stretch of his cock. All just in reach, tangible for the first time in so long.

Your need for him borders on carnal. The feeling snakes its way up from your stomach into the cavern of your ribcage, splays its weight across your delicate, pounding heart.

And then the rational part of your brain whirs weakly to life.

What are you doing?

“I have a boyfriend,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re reminding.

“Mhm,” Javi mutters, deft fingers peeling the fabric of your t-shirt up, up, up your body. You don’t stop him.

“And does your boyfriend —“ he kneels down, presses a kiss where exposed skin meets denim — “make you feel as good as I do, cariño?”

You can’t answer that. It wouldn’t be right. Because any of this is.

“Javi — I,” you try, cut off abruptly by dull teeth in the flesh of your waist. You yelp, the sweet sting quickly dissipating as he pauses. Pulls back.

“You can say it,” he goads with a wicked smirk. “I won’t tell him.”

“He — no,” the words leave you before you even feel them in your mouth, and then you’re cursing yourself. You can’t take it back — it’s too late. Javi knows, you know. The only one still in the dark is Nathan.

Javier says your name. His tone is different, soberingly serious.

“Tell me to stop.”

Fuck.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, “and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, so quiet you barely hear yourself.

“Cariño-”

“I can’t,” you stammer, louder. “I — fuck, Javi. Please.”

“Please?”

He knows what you’re asking for; he just needs to hear you say it.

“Please fuck me.”

In an instant, he’s standing back up, grasping at your sides and impatiently guiding you onto the couch. He brackets you against the cushions, one hand splayed next to your head on the backrest, the other popping the button of your jeans open.

You lift your ass as he tugs them down your legs, pulls them past your ankles and leaves them in a heap on the floor. And then he’s moving down your body, kneeling at your altar and prying you open for him.

You surrender to him willingly, desperation growing when he pulls your panties aside and gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“This gorgeous pussy,” he hums, leaning down to taste you.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You miss it?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he groans. Dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, refamiliarizing himself with your nectar before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He knows your sounds, knows their tells, soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt.

His lips wrap around your clit, then, envelope it completely as he starts to suckle, and the sudden sensation makes you buck your hips.

“Javi — fuck, oh — holy-”

He retreats, mouth shiny with your arousal. “What is it, baby? Your boyfriend doesn’t eat your pussy like this?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit breathlessly. Javi clicks his tongue. Faux-pouts at you.

His lips reattach to your clit and you curse.

“Fuck, Javi, he — he’s never-“

The half-admission stops him in his tracks. He stares back up at you with narrowed eyes.

“Cariño, don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you?”

Your face heats. “He — he says he doesn’t like to do it.”

Suddenly, Javi looks livid.

His fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

He’s unaffected by much these days — but Javi clearly doesn’t take kindly to a man not pleasuring his woman. Especially when you are the woman in question.

“Pendejo,” he murmurs.

“Javi,” you whine. “Please.”

Your pleading voice seems to snap him out of it. Or at least remind him of the task at hand.

He returns his attention to your dripping pussy with one final huff. “Gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Javier begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders.

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You hope, fleetingly, that his neighbors are heavy sleepers. Better yet, that they’re out of town.

Maybe he’s putting in extra effort because he knows now that your boyfriend isn’t doing this for you at home. Or maybe he’s just better at it than you remember. Regardless, you find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Javi’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

You sing Javi’s name like a hymn. It rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound.

When your breathing evens, he lifts off of his haunches, motions for you to lay flat on the couch with your neck supported by the armrest. And then he shucks his pants off, his cock immediately springing up to his stomach, a trail of precum dripping down his navel.

You’d forgotten how gorgeous it was — the heady, pink tip shiny with arousal, veins running along the underside of the thick base prominent. It twitches in interest as Javier leans down to kiss you, prods against your slick inner thigh when his tongue presses into yours.

You hook your legs around his back, desperately attempting to pull him closer, attempting to drag him into your achingly empty cunt.

He grins against your lips, hand moving between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance.

“Impaciente,” he mumbles.

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please Javi, need it.”

“Yeah?” He pauses with his cockhead right at your seam. “How bad?”

“Fuck — so bad, need it so bad.” Your nails burrow deeper into flesh. He hisses.

“God damn, querida; that much, huh?”

“Yes, Javi,” you groan. “Please just-”

He bottoms out in one deep thrust, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. You moan in unison, his head falling against your shoulder as he slowly begins to move.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, clenching around him over and over again. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his cock nudging your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You wonder how you went so long without this. Fear you won’t be able to again.

He pulls all the way out and snaps into you before setting a new, brutal pace, one that leaves you babbling underneath him.

The room grows palpably warmer, white heat licking at your neck, your chest, your back — where it sticks to leather. You find yourself lost in the way your bodies move together; a dance you’ve done so many times before; one you’d perfected all those months ago.

“Shit,” Javi slurs. “Take me so well, cariño. Like you’re — ahh — made for me.”

I am, you want to say.

“Fuck,” you moan instead, “so good, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

And it does. You’re going to snap soon, going to cum for a second time, soak his cock.

You tighten around him, a silent warning. He slips out and you whine at the loss. But then he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wider for him and delving back in at a new angle that makes you scream.

You can feel it building now, like a snowball in your abdomen. You can’t fight it, can barely warn Javi, his name spilling brokenly from your throat as your orgasm crests.

He talks you through it with praises whispered in your ear. So beautiful, princesa — that’s it. So pretty when you fall apart on my cock. There you go; let it all out, baby.

Fucked-out and boneless, you beg for Javi to please cum inside.

He growls, low and primal, gripping tightly to the flesh of your waist as his thrusts begin to falter. “That what you want, querida? Want to — shit — want to go back to your boyfriend with me dripping out of you?”

“Yes,” you chant thoughtlessly, yes, yes, yes.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl.” he grits, each word punctuated by a jerk of his hips.

He spills inside you with his teeth in the crook of your neck. There’s so much of it, filling your cunt, leaking out around his cock and onto leather. It sates you in a way you didn’t know possible, as if your womb needs to be claimed by him and only him. Nobody else will do.

You almost resent the feeling of your eyesight returning and your breaths steadying. You don’t want to come down — not if it means you need to go home.

But the sky outside is turning purple, bruising with the threat of a new day on the horizon, and you know your time together is nearly up.

“Javi,” you mutter, his chest still heaving against yours, cock softening inside you.

“Up.”

He shifts, pulls out in a devastating loss, and retreats to the opposite side of the couch.

You begin to knead the muscles in your aching calves, Javi fumbling with the pack of cigarettes on the side table next to him. He takes one out and lights it, the end glowing faintly.

“What do we do?” you ask. He rubs at the crease in his forehead, definitely set there by years of chasing after drug cartels. Maybe also by running away from meaningful conversation with you.

“You can’t go back to him,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “I can’t? I have to Javi, Nathan is my-“

“Don’t say his name,” he snaps, abruptly ashing his cigarette and turning to face you. He looks wrecked, his eyes wide and his lips downturned.

“What do you want from me, Javi?” you bite, pulling your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans where they lay on the floor. “You want me to be at your beck and call forever? Cheat on him until one of us dies?”

“I —“ Javi sighs. “No.”

“Then what?” You pull your pants on: one leg, then the other. Pull your shirt back down to cover your breasts.

“I — want you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“What?”

“All of you,” he clarifies. “When I saw you with him for the first time in that grocery store — my heart sank. I didn’t — didn't realize how serious my feelings were for you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you end things that day.”

He stands. Braces pleading hands on your shoulders.

“I know I’m an asshole,” he continues. “I thought I could never be someone’s partner. That I wouldn’t…wouldn’t be good. How could I be when I’ve done so much bad in my life?”

You sink into his touch. His words.

“Javi-“

“No, cariño — I need you to hear this. I want to be good for you, know I can be. I’ll do anything. I just — I can’t let you get away again.”

You feel as if you’ve just been struck by an arrow. Or, more accurately, a train. Your bones hurt and your insides twist.

You’re silent for a long moment, watching as his eyes desperately search yours. You know you need to say something eventually, put him out of his misery, but you’re too afraid to find out what happens next.

The undeniable fact that you want to be with him too is almost too much to bear. You’ll have to break it off with Nathan, split his heart in half. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, over and over.

But then, maybe you don’t deserve to remain unhappy. Unfulfilled.

Maybe you need to hurt him once in order to stop repeatedly hurting yourself.

“You’re good, Javier,” you say then. “You’re a good man. You deserve good.”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He retracts them with a deep breath in.

You grab the sides of his face. “Yes. And I — I want you too.”

Javier kisses you, so deep you think your lips might bruise. There’s finality in it — you’re his and he��s yours — and no longer will you pretend that’s not the case.

He drives you back to your place, unwilling to let his girl get in another cab alone before daylight.

Laredo looks beautiful at dawn, all dozing buildings and empty roads. You pass by your workplace and groan at the realization that you’ll have to be back there in a few hours; you can’t call out again. A stack of unfiled reports will surely be waiting for you atop your desk.

That dread doesn’t last long, though, not when you look to the man in the driver’s seat, the one who makes your mouth water and your heart skip.

When he catches your gaze, corner of his mouth turning up at you mischievously, you know for certain that everything will work out just fine.

Javi turns onto your street slowly, moreso than he needs to, a possessive hand gripping your thigh.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks when the car pulls up to the curb.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say it won’t go well, but-“

“I know. But if he gives you any more trouble than he needs to, you call me.”

Your eyes flit up to your bedroom window, blinds drawn up and curtains pulled aside. The room is still dark, Nathan no doubt still asleep.

You’ll go up in a second. After you kiss Javier one more time.

He seems taken aback when your lips catch his, maybe because it’s crazy to do this here, now. But you can’t help it. Can’t keep your hands — or your mouth — off of him now that you have him.

He relaxes into it after just a second, licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head to hold you against him.

And then — he abruptly pulls away.

“Shit,” he curses, staring wide-eyed at the window.

You follow his eyeline, freezing when you see what he sees: Nathan, tall and shadowy, looking straight at you.

“Well,” Javi laughs nervously, “I think he knows.”

end notes: ty so much for reading! pls consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed :)

tag list: @janaispunk @kajashe @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @littlegrungegirlaf @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @wethairjoel @catchallfangirl @pamasaur

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3K notes · View notes

miirohs · 5 months ago

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no body, no crime [o.p.s]

pairing: Mob Boss!Oscar Piastri x GN!Reader wc: 1.8k cw: reader shoots someone, poor hurt/comfort an: this one is dedicated to the local piastri lover em because that Danny Ric fic is never leaving the editing stage,,, had to change it up a bit tho bc the beginning was hampering the rest of it, but anyways I’m continuing the 2 am shitposting tradition 💀

The clock ticked softly in the background, a cold breeze filtering through the room as you curled further into the sheets, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to drown out the noise. The nightlights shone through the thin curtains, the light of the bright neon billboards cast onto the floor.

Oscar wasn’t home again, leaving you to your lonesome in his penthouse in London, something about an emergency meeting at eleven in the night.

You weren’t worried much about the call time, but you couldn’t help the pit that formed in your stomach as your head rested on his shoulder, still too tired to make out what he murmured in a low voice on the phone.

Whatever it was sounded important but he didn’t let you hear anything, herding you back to the bedroom with the promise that he’d be back sooner if not later. You held onto his hand, eyes shutting for good as the warmth of his hand slipped away once again.

With that, you fell into a fretful sleep, waking up at odd times for no explainable reason.

You felt dreadful as your eyes opened again, apartment eerily quiet, vision blurring as you read the clock.

2:45 A.M. It read.

You crawled to the end of the bed, letting your legs dangle off the bed as you reached out for your phone. Not a single notification on the screen and you sighed, opening up the messages app.

As you opened Oscars contact, something outside clicked faintly, making you jump. You slid off the bed, feet padding against the wooden flooring as you wandered into the hall.

You didn’t see any guards posted, even as you called out names you could barely remember hoarsely, getting no response back even as your voice bounced around the hall. It was slowly starting to freak you out, but you figured it was just the lack of sleep getting to you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this paranoid, and it wasn’t just for nothing.

The lights were off in the living room and kitchen, and you turned on the flashlight on your phone, your free hand pressed to the glass window. Your hands trembled slightly as you returned to tapping against the screen, typing up a message to send to Oscar.

where are you rn? heard something outside, can’t see guards anywhere.

The screen lit up, speech bubbles popping up for a couple moments before diapering entirely.

lmk when you’re on your way.

You sent the message, sliding onto a chair and hunching over the granite countertop. The phone rang only moments later, and you snapped out of your stupor, looking at the caller id.

[Osc].

You swiped, sliding off the chair and walking into the kitchen.

“Y/n? Is that you, baby?”

“Mmm, it is,” You mumbled sleepily, fingers running along the countertops as you reached to open the cabinet, "Where are you?"

"I'm on my way back," Oscar replied, tone relieved. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

“No, I thought i heard something,” You paused, anxiety thrumming under the surface of your skin as something clicked again, “And the guards aren’t here, they-”

“What do you mean not there?” You held the phone away, eyes widening as he cussed softly. The shock and fear in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

"I don't know," you stammered, glancing around the dark kitchen, "I called out for them, but no one answered. I thought it was just me being paranoid but…"

"Lock yourself in the bedroom. Now. I'm almost there, and if anyone breaks through, there's a gun in my nightchest. Don’t use it, just scare them if you have to." He instructed, voice panicked. You paused as he rambled further, eyes landing on a glass half full sitting on the countertop next to the sink.

“What the…”

Your head was slammed into the counter, blinding white pain licking across your temple as you dropped the phone.

The glass shattered as you flailed, crumpling onto the floor. Your world spun, something wet staining your hand as you clutched your head.

Oscar was now frantically shouting through the phone, and your vision blurred as you scanned the floor for the bright light. The sound of your phone cracking made you scramble back, trying to stand up as the world spun under your feet.

You could barely see the assailant in the darkness of the apartment, barely illuminated by the lights of the city.

They lunged for you, barely missing as you scrambled to the side, back hitting a wall. It was barely seconds before they came for you, pressing you up against the wall with their gun, cutting off your circulation.

The cold metal dug into your neck, and you clawed at their clothed arms, aimlessly flailing. Your kicking paid off, as the intruder gasped in pain as you landed a kick to the crotch, gasping for air as you slid down. Despite the throbbing pain, you dogged again when something flew at your head, crawling to the living room and pulling yourself up against the coffee table.

The intruder closed in once again, swearing loudly as they limped towards you. Grasping blindly, your fingers closed around a metal vase, swinging it in their direction. It connected with a resounding thud and you got up, shoving past them in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You’d stunned them, but you weren’t sure how long it’d last, locking the door behind you as you fell to your knees, crawling over to his side of the bed, slumped against the bed as you opened the drawer.

Your fingers closed around the cold metal of the gun Oscar had mentioned, hand tensing and untensing as you stared down the shiny silver. Suddenly, the door banged again, and you froze.

The rush of blood drowned out the taunts, positioning yourself in a far corner of the room, eyes straining in the dark as the doorknob jiggled.

That didn’t last wrong, the wood of the door splintering and cracking. "Come out, you-" the intruder's voice was cut off by another loud bang on the door, hand reaching down to the handle through a crack in the door.

There was nothing but the bed between you now, the door finally giving way, allowing them to stumble into a room with a malevolent look.

Panic surged through you and you raised the gun as threateningly as you could.

He grabbed your wrist, wrenching the gun from your grasp and throwing it to the side. You struggled, kicking and clawing your way out of his grip, diving for the gun. They tackled you once again, and you both tumbled to the ground.

In the struggle, your finger dug into the trigger, losing circulation as he pinned you down, gun shaking uncontrollably.

A shot rang out, followed by an intense ringing in your ears, the grip on your hands loosening. Something warm splattered against your face, blood pooling at your sides and you could only stare in horror.

There was nothing but a ringing in your ear, staring into the darkness as if expecting something else. The door burst open and Oscar rushed in, his eyes wild with fear. It was the first time you’d seen him so unkempt, eyes widening in shock as he connected the dots between the smoking gun in your hand and the body on the floor.

You couldn’t make out what he was saying, only as he pulled you closer to him, feeling the vibrations in his chest.

You couldn’t really make out what he was saying, slumping down against him as tears escaped your eyes.

You weren’t sure how much time passed till you could hear him again, blanking out for a couple of moments before you could remember again, sitting on the bed once again.

You could hear Oscar shouting in the other room, probably on the phone again. Something had gone terribly wrong for his composed self to be shattered.

He had Lando sitting in the room with you, monitoring you as your legs dangled off of the edge of the bed, staring down at hands crusted with blood.

Both of you didn’t say much, only nodding to any questions he asked, not even listening entirely.

“Is she doing okay?” You turned at the sound of Oscar's voice, opening then closing your mouth as Lando shrugged noncommittally, murmuring something about how he hadn’t heard a peep in the hour he’d been there.

You phased out again, only coming back to your senses as he gripped your hand, kneeling in front of you.

"Hey," Oscar said softly, high contrast to the way he had been yelling earlier. "Can you look at me baby?"

You blinked, slowly focusing on his face. The tears were coming back, and you swallowed them down again, digging your nails into his hands instead.

He didn’t complain, running a soothing thumb over your knuckles. "You don’t have to if you don’t want to," He continued, "You're safe now. Everything's going to be okay."

Even when you didn’t answer and stared blankly, he continued, listing things aimlessly to catch your attention.

“We’re going to increase security detail for you by the way. I won’t be leaving you on your own for a while…” He paused in his explanation, tilting his head at you. “Please talk to me, baby, I’m worried.”

You swallowed hard, feelings like a mess of strings as you opened your mouth. "I don't know what happened," You shuddered, voice barely above a whisper, "I just... I had to… I just killed someone. Oh god, I'm a killer."

Oscar's expression softened further in contrast to the steely tone he used as he gripped your hand tighter. “No, you didn’t. If anyone questions you, I was the one who did it. Not you, me. Don’t blame yourself for what happens to scum like that.”

“But then- then you’ll get in trouble,” You whispered, haunted by the thought, “they’ll arrest you.”

He smirked, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face as if he was contemplating something.

“Osc baby, what-“

“Whoever sent them,” He spoke with slight disgust, although you could tell that wasn’t at all the full gist of what he was feeling, “Started this trouble first. They can’t arrest me if there’s no body to be found. No body, no crime baby.”

You could only stare at him, heart aching slightly as he pulled your hands to him, allowing you to run your fingers through his messed up hair.

“You’re…” You didn’t finish the sentence, allowing him to stand up and hover over you.

“It’s going to be alright,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he wiped your unshed tears. “You’re strong, we all know that.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You sniffled, hands looping around his own as he cradled your face.

“You’ll never have to find out,” he replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead, arms holding you down almost possessively, “Never when I’m here.”

522 notes · View notes

exhaslo · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 21- Yandere!Miguel x Reader (Breeding/Lactation Kink)

(Requested by reader, also early update bc I'm playing Spiderman 2 all weekend)

It was no lie to anyone that Miguel was a stressed man. His eyes packed more bags than someone did for travelling. You knew better than anyone the pent up tension that man carried. Miguel had the fate of the whole multiverse on his shoulders, plus his shitty Alchemax job. The man barely had time for sleep and himself. Even so, he always managed to find time for you. Miguel had to since he was your loving husband, after all.

You were just a regular person, but you worked with Miguel at the Spider Society. You were the front desk receptionist. Your job was basically to turn people away who accidently entered the building. Apparently which happened a lot. It was an easy job and one where Miguel could keep his eyes on you at all times.

You had been with Miguel for over two years. The man was head over heels in love with you. The moment he proposed you immediately said yes. You were happy to live a life with him. You shared his burdens and he with you. Miguel always said that you were his only stress reliever. Just seeing you each day made his tension melt away. He always joked about locking you away so no one but him saw you. It was cute.

That and the hours of dumb fucking sex. Miguel had a breeding kink. He was always determined to fill you to the brim with his cum, always threatening to get you pregnant. It turned you on so much. Miguel would fuck you anywhere and everywhere. One time he was so horny that he was drilling your pussy right at your desk. He did not care if anyone walked in, just as long as he got to fill you. There have been says where you couldn't move because of how much he fucked you.

"Amor (love), what are you thinking about?" Miguel asked as he approached you from behind. You jumped,

"Miggy, I told you not to scare me!" You whined before hugging him, "I was just thinking about getting a new dress for our date night."

"Hm?" Miguel glanced at the website you were looking at, "But we're having that at home, amor." His eyes glowing bright red towards your exposed breasts,

"Awe, but Miggy, ca-W-Wait," You pouted softly as Miguel's hands already started to roam your body, "S-Someone almost walked in on us last time!"

"Then they'll know that you're mine." Miguel hissed lowly, sucking against your neck, "Nadie puede estar cerca de usted. (No one is allowed to be near you.)"

You trembled under his touch as Miguel already started to pump your pussy with his fingers. Miguel refused to teach you Spanish, saying something about him enjoying your confused expressions. When in reality, he did not want you to know about his dark secret. Placing you against the desk, Miguel inhaled to the sound of your moans. Those sweet, sweet cries, only for him. Miguel made sure that no one got to touch your body.

When Miguel first laid eyes on you, he knew he had to have you. He did everything in his power to keep other men away from you. He was Spiderman after all, what's an injury here or there? Miguel just pushed you in the right direction for him. Playing the perfect boyfriend until you were convinced that he was. You were so cute as you fell into his trap. Miguel had you all for himself and he was going to make sure it stayed that way.

"Mírate, chupándome la polla tan bien. (Look at you, sucking my dick so well.)" He groaned as he started to pound your pussy from behind. "What is it that you want, baby? Tell me."

"N-Need you to fill me," Your moans were getting louder as he pressed you into the desk. Miguel brought your waist closer to his, making sure to hit you deep each time,

"Te he entrenado muy bien. Todo lo que quieres es que te derrame mi semen todos los días. Te doy mi hijo. (I've trained you so well. All you want is for me to pour my cum into you every day. Give you my child.)" He groaned lowly, giving you his first fill, "Gotta make a mami out of you, right?"

"Y-Yes!" You moaned out.

Miguel licked his lips as he kept going. One was never enough. He needed to make sure you knew your place. He flipped you over, placing you in mating position. Your breasts were bouncing out of your top. Miguel licked his lips as he went to squeeze your breast. You let out a sharp gasp as a sudden release of tension was given to you. Miguel's eyes sparkled as your tender breasts started to lactate. Your adorable face screamed embarrassed while he chuckled,

"Don't look away," Miguel leaned down and started to suck against one of your breasts.

"H-Hah, M-Miggy...T-That-"

You squirmed under Miguel, a new sensation burning throughout your body. Miguel was sucking against your breasts hungrily. You were reaching your orgasm and fast. Miguel felt you squeeze against his cock and continued his harsh pace. He switched to your other breast, wanting to share the love.

"Miguel!" You cried out, panting heavily after your orgasm.

Miguel released your abused nipples, watching your milk drip down your body. He pumped you a few more times with his dick, making sure to fill your womb. Once he was done, he fixed your attire and sat you back down in your seat,

"That was delicious, mi amor. We'll continue this later."

--------------

It hadn't even been an hour since Miguel filled you that he was back. He caught you leaving the bathroom and proceeded to fuck you in the stall, giving you another few pumps of his cum, while enjoying your milk. You body was starting to grow sore and it was no where near time for you to go home. It was like Miguel was under a spell. He kept groping your breasts, wanting you to cum from just his touch. You weren't sure if you were going to last the day.

"I need more water," You sighed softly, feeling dehydrated.

Right as you were about to stand, someone walked into the building. A young confused looking man approached you with what looked like a file in his hand. It was probably another lost interview candidate for the building behind the Spider Society. You told the young man that he was in the wrong building and when you went to stand, you fell. Your legs had given up on you from all of the rough sex Miguel gave you today.

"Are you-"

"Back off." Miguel hissed as he towered over the young man in his suit.

The young man fled in terror. Miguel cussed under his breathe and went over to you. He grabbed your arm before lifting you into his arms. You knew he was mad. Miguel always hated it whenever any guy talked to you. He wouldn't even let you order food if it was a male cashier. He was so protective and jealous that you found it cute, but annoying sometimes.

'Sorry," You apologized as Miguel took you home, "I was going to get a water."

"Then let me know. I'll do that for you," He grumbled.

You pouted towards his childish behavior. Once you arrived home, Miguel made sure you got hydrated. He took your pants off, massaging your legs to try and give them feeling again. His eyes trailed towards your pussy, seeing his cum still leaking out of you. A low growl escaped his lips as he pushed you against the bed. His suit disappearing before he started to stroke his dick,

"¿Por qué sigues desobedeciendome? ¿Ni siquiera puedes guardar mi semilla dentro de ti y dejas que otro hombre te hable? te voy a castigar amor. (Why do you keep disobeying me? You can't even keep my seed inside you and you let another man speak to you? I'm going to punish you, love)" He spat, shoving his dick inside your drenched pussy.

"M-Miguel! N-No more...It's too much," You whined. Miguel groped your breasts, giving them a good squeeze, "Hah~ Ah~"

"Voy a hacerte madre. Darte una muy buena razón para mantenerte alejado de los demás. ¿Tienes esperando en casa toda hinchada por mi culpa? (I'm going to make you a mother. Give you a damn good reason to stay away from others. Have you waiting at home all swollen because of me.)" He groaned, ravishing your cunt.

Miguel ignored your cries as he took your nipple in his mouth. The warmth of your breast milk going down his throat. How could he ever let you leave the house again after this? Miguel needed to be stricter with you. Gripping your hips tightly, Miguel let out a grunt as he filled your womb once more. Your body arched, moaning out in pleasure. Despite your cries, your body always told Miguel what you wanted. You could never be too full.

"Are you learning your lesson?" Miguel asked, releasing your nipple for the other one. You shuddered in response, "I can't hear you,"

"Y-Yes, Miggy."

"And what is it you learned?"

"Mhm, I-I won't," You whined as he kept bullying his cock into you, "I-I'm yours. O-Only yours-"

"And?" Miguel rubbed your clit as he pounded you harder. You gasped, moaning louder,

"I-I'll do as you say. N-no talking to other men, a-and...ah...ah~ M-Migu-" You shook as you reached another orgasm. Miguel chuckled as he gave you another fill of him,

"Good girl,"

Picking you up as he finished, Miguel carried you to the bathroom. He sat you between his legs in the bathtub, messaging your breasts. His whispers about how sexy you were made your brain foggy. Miguel loved the fact that you were lactating for him. His hands kept wandering all over your body, marking you as his.

------------

You ended up working from home afterwards. Miguel said it was for your protection. You were so madly in love with him and blinded by his true nature that you obeyed him. Miguel always rewarded your obedience. You were his good girl. He made sure you got what you wanted as long as it did not involve leaving the house without him. Miguel made sure that you were always with him everywhere else. If you even stepped out for mail without him, he would punish you.

"Now, what is it that you did wrong?" Miguel asked as he pounded you from behind harshly. You gripped the bedsheets, sobbing from the overstimulation he was giving you,

"M...Ma..." He had made you cum so many times you lost count. You could barely form a word.

"Can't understand you when you're so fucked out and full of me," He said with a smirk, "Oh? You're lactating even more...I wonder if this means I succeeded." He hummed lowly. You moaned loudly as he went to fill you again,

"Mig....s'much....mhm..."

Miguel lifted you up as he gave you one last load. He turned you around, holding your waist up so nothing would spill out of your pussy. He licked your breasts, enjoying the lewd expression on your face. You learned your lesson alright. You were never going to disobey him again. You were his good girl. Miguel smiled as he rubbed your belly,

"You're going to be a mami, amor. I'll have to reward you later,"

"Mhm,"

You just laid against the bed, slowly falling asleep from exhaustion. You were happy and contempt with your life with Miguel. Even if it meant losing your freedom to him. Miguel could have never been happier, especially after finally breeding you. And he wasn't going to stop after just one. You were stuck with him forever.

#kinktober #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel

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shouyuus · 2 months ago

Text

chapter two: tell no tales

roronoa zoro; 3,029 words; fluff and angst, enemies to lovers, slowburn, depressed!zoro, ship therapist!nami, dick!zoro bc he cannot process emotions, no "y/n", trauma bonding

summary: in which zoro starts to believe in ghosts

a/n: hi from the new blog friends! yes, i know it's a little confusing, but please bear with me !! this series is indeed moving to here to the new blog, but the masterlist will live on my old blog till i've got all the links up, and i can reblog onto the new one.

< to the table of contents

The following hours are a blur of bodies and color, the setting sun bleeding out over the distant sky, the tiny island retreating in the distance as the Merry jolts along the choppy waves. Nami’s hand, Luffy’s arm, Usopp offering to take his midnight watch, Sanji pressing a bottle of something and a tray of riceballs into his hands.

Zoro drinks. And drinks. And drinks.

He drinks until the earth sways beneath him in ways he’s certain isn’t just the rocking of the ship. He drinks until the sky pivots above him, seeping into the darkness of his little corner room. He drinks, and he sleeps.

And he dreams of you.

In his dreams, you’re vibrant and laughing, your cheeks full of color, your lips brushed in reds or pinks or purples. You offer him a freshly made mochi, your fingertips dusted in rice flour. He reaches out for it but just before he can take it, the tiny little sweet splits open to reveal a raw, bleeding heart.

Blood trickles between your fingertips, slicking down your arm like pomegranate juice.

Zoro looks up to find you smiling, but there’s blood oozing down the sides of your face, collecting in the dip of your collarbones from a massive gunshot wound to the side of your head.

You cock your head, offering him the bloodied mochi.

“C’mon, take it! Everyone else got one!”

He jerks awake to a quiet knock at his door and Sanji’s muffled voice from the other side.

“Breakfast, mosshead. Made your favorites — grilled mackerel and miso soup and rice. I’ll uh — keep it warm for ya, but not for long, okay?”

Zoro swallows passed the dryness in his throat, closing his eyes and pressing a hand to his face, shielding himself from the bright orange light seeping in from the little window in the corner. After a few more minutes, he swings himself out of bed, dragging his swords with him down the hallway into the kitchen.

Everyone is there, gathered around the hanging table, talking in whispered tones. They all go quiet when Zoro rounds the door, and Usopp clears his throat, leaning back with a forced lightness.

“Seems like we’ll be hitting the next island soon!” he says, eyes darting towards Nami, who sighs and nods.

“Yeah, it’s only a few more days till we get to the next island,” she says, glancing back down at her hands, “then it’s straight up into the Grand Line.”

Zoro nods, dropping into one of the empty seats and pulling the only fully set tray of food towards him. He stares at the carefully arranged items — the fish grilled to skin-crisp perfection, the miso soup still hot enough to steam, the rice fluffy and sweet.

He picks up his chopsticks.

“Good,” he says, his voice too soft, “the faster we get there… the better.”

It’s strange, how Zoro’s never before believed in ghosts. But now, he sees the shadow of you in everything he does. In the swift swish of his swords through the air, in the flutter of wind in the Merry’s sails, in the rhythmic creak of the planks of the main deck.

He thinks of you, of the sadness that had flickered in your eyes the second before Crocodile (or Mr. 0 as he’s known in Baroque Works; they’d since figured out his name and his ranking, but not much else) pressed the gun to your head and pulled the trigger.

He finds himself reliving the moment, sinking into the infinitesimal space between the breath and the gunshot; he searches it as if there might have been clues tucked in the way your throat had caught or the specific way your lashes had fluttered. He thinks, at least, you hadn’t looked scared.

And maybe, that in and of itself is the mercy.

— — —

He sees you again in Mag Mell, a tiny jewel box island tucked along the edges of Paradise. It’s an island of dreamers, of poets and painters, musicians and mystics, with wending streets papered in silver dust, and houses painted in dessert-bright colors, with pearl-gilded roofs, and golden-tipped steeples hung with glittering crystal bells that tolled by the passing hours.

People here sang easily and laughed freely, and it’s all Zoro can do not to look for you around the bend of every street corner, to jolt at every single peal of bright, unabashed laughter.

You would’ve been so happy here — at least the you from his childhood memories. Guilt claws at his insides. He should’ve done more — should’ve tried harder to save you —

So when he does catch glimpse of you, the you that’s been haunting all his all sleepless nights, he isn’t sure if he’s actually dreaming. But how could he be? They’d just docked hours ago — with Sanji and Usopp off shopping for groceries, and Luffy plowing through the market for food, Nami doing… whatever Nami does in cities like these.

At first, he thinks its his eyes playing tricks — his subconscious toying with him in this place that seems so cruelly perfect for the you of his memory, as if his dreams hadn’t been ruthless enough. But then, he hears your voice, and he’s sure it’s you.

He follows you down one twisting alley, and then another, the streets folding over one another like tributaries to a mother stream. Around the third bend, he loses you, and for a frantic moment, he finds himself spinning around himself once, twice, until a thin pair of arms slams him up against the far wall, painted a deep mahogany red.

“What part of don’t follow me are you not understanding?” your voice is nothing more than a hissed breath, tight and angry and pleading, but it’s yours.

The next moment, Zoro has you flipped, pinning you to the opposite wall, this time in a blinding turquoise, his teeth bared, a sword poised at your throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” he asks, forcing out the words, his heart a wild, untamed thing beating in his chest, hard enough to sting. His eyes are too wide, searching your face desperately as if looking for a sign, a slip-up that might prove you’re not who you look like you are, and yet —

The wry way your lip twists up has his stomach roiling within him. You stop struggling, tilting your head to look at him in the gather of shadows of the deserted alley.

“What? Forgotten me already? And here I thought dying in front of you would make more of a lasting impression —”

“Exactly,” Zoro bites back, unable to stop his sword from digging into the skin of your neck, a thin line of blood seeping out from beneath your otherwise unmarred skin, “I saw — I watched you —” his throat seizes forcibly over the word die and he struggles for a few seconds before he jerks back, “I watched you get shot.”

You rub at your throat with a ginger hand, drawing it away to stare at the rub of red there, your expression inscrutable.

“Yeah… that you did.”

He whips his sword out to the side before slipping it into its sheath with a dull shink.

You eye it warily, the late afternoon sun creeping into the alley inch by golden inch. It kisses at your toes and creeps up your ankles as you stare at the sword at Zoro’s side.

“That was Kuina’s, wasn’t it?” you ask.

The name slams into Zoro like a gut-punch, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from stumbling.

“So what if it is?” he asks, a quaver to his voice that he almost doesn’t recognize. He turns away from you to stare at the strip of street visible from the darkened alley. A little girl with twin pigtails skips by holding a fistful of multicolored balloons, giggling as a boy races after her, trying to steal one.

“Can’t believe you still have it after all these years.”

“Yeah, well. Call me sentimental,” but his voice is flat, almost sardonic as he turns back to stare at you.

You allow him a helpless grin, “You always were more sentimental than you’d let on. Even when we were kids.”

“You died,” he spits the word out like poison, and you flinch, almost as if struck by it. He takes a deep, steadying breath but makes no move to back down as he asks, “so how the hell are you still here?”

You press your lips, casting your eyes away, your head lowered.

“You’re on a crew with a guy made of rubber — can’t you figure it out?” you ask, rueful and quiet.

Zoro scoffs, “So far as I know, there ain’t no Devil Fruits that can make you immortal.”

You wince again, though when you do speak, there’s a weary humor tacked to the ends of your words.

“You were always smarter than you let on too,” you say, finally looking up, “you’re right. It’s not a Devil Fruit.”

Zoro frowns, unable to keep the intrigue from bubbling up his chest as he watches you.

“Then…” he trails off, waiting.

A golden shaft of sun slants fully into the alley now, finally high enough to hit the side of your face, casting your features into stark relief. Like this, he can see the hollows of your cheeks, the blueness in your lips. But also, the flicker of light that once danced like fireworks behind your eyes.

“It was a deal,” you say, as the sun shifts behind a soft gauzy cloud, tossing the island into a momentary shadow once more, and your face is again shrouded in darkness, “with the Devil himself.”

— — —

“So… you can’t die,” Sanji says, stubbing out what must be his fifth cigarette since the beginning of the conversation.

A half-finished dinner service lays in an array of dishes before you, but even Luffy isn’t reaching out to pick at the remains.

You shake your head, “No, that’s the thing — I can. I just don’t tend to stay dead.”

Nami frowns, “But how does that even work? You get killed, and what — you just… respawn?”

You sigh, letting out a tired laugh, “Something like that. I die, and I wake up the next morning exactly in the last place I went to sleep.”

“Whoa, weird,” says Luffy, finally reaching for the remains of a whole roast chicken, stuffing a drumstick into his mouth.

You nod, “Very.”

Usopp is chewing on his bottom lips, looking concerned, “But… I mean — when you do d-die… does it still hurt?”

You slowly pivot to stare at him, your expression carefully neutral.

Beside you, Zoro shifts slightly, and everyone goes strangely still as they wait for your answer.

“Sometimes,” you say, carefully, “if the person killing me decides to make it hurt.”

Sanji leans back, staring up at the broad canopy of stars above the deck of the Merry.

The silence that stretches over the table is fraught with implication. Eventually, you let out a long breath, leaning back in your chair.

“But you get used to it after a while,” you say, the shadow of a smile quirking your lips.

Zoro narrows his eyes, “You make it sound easy.”

His voice is hard, his gaze fixed on a point just over Luffy’s shoulder. Beneath the low dip of his unbuttoned shirt, you can still see the remains of the scar Mihawk had left him with. No doubt he was remembering his own close tangle with death.

You lilt your head and roll your shoulders.

“What they don’t tell you about dying is that it’s the easiest thing… but easy doesn’t mean painless,” your voice is light and airy and painfully frivolous, “eventually, easy just means that at least… you know it’ll end.”

Across the table, Sanji lets out a breath as Nami gasps. Luffy purses his lips.

“But… as long as you fall asleep in a safe place, then even if you die, you’ll just wake up there again, right?” he asks.

You fix him with a look, before letting out a helpless laugh.

“Yeah, something like that. The only thing is — when you’re working for the big-bads, they tend to make sure you only ever fall asleep somewhere they can get their hands back on you.”

“But you’re with us now!” Luffy grins, puffing out his chest, “so we’ll make sure you stay alive without having to uh — die first. Good?”

Others might only see childish innocence in his words, but you can see the absolute certainty he evokes in the rest of his crew. And that, more than anything else, makes you believe him.

You let out a shaky breath.

“Yeah, okay.”

Zoro grunts as he gets up from the table, stalking off without another word. Nami sighs, watching him go before rolling her eyes and going after him.

Sanji strikes a match and lights up a new cigarette.

“Let him be. He was real beat up after seeing you —” Sanji dips his head, “well, you know. And he’s not what you’d call super in touch with his emotions, I think.”

He shoots you a good-natured wink.

You laugh, a tired, rubbed-raw sound, nodding.

“Yeah. I know.”

Sanji taps off a bit of ash and leans forward, “So — what’s the story?”

“What makes you think there’s a story?”

Sanji blows out a series of smoke rings before reaching over to refill your glass, “Mosshead’s not exactly known for makin’ friends wherever he goes, if you know what I mean,” he slides you smile before continuing, “so if he’s this —” Sanji pauses to cast about for a proper word, “attached… to someone, I figured there’s just gotta be a story, right love?”

You sigh, nodding as you take a long sip of your drink, savoring the coolness as it slides down your throat.

“You’re right… there is a story. But I’m not sure it matters much anymore. We’re both…” you look down at your hands, pale and pink in the fading firelight, “not the kids we used to be.”

Sanji shrugs, “Neither is any of us,” he coaxes, voice gentle, “but that doesn’t mean the kids that we were don’t matter any more.”

You nod, finally allowing the warmth of the fire to wash over you as you sit back in your chair.

“Alright then — it was a long time ago but… we grew up in the same village…”

— — —

“Hey — where’re you going?” Nami catches up with Zoro just beneath the main deck, the hallway scattered with pinpricks of light, seeping in through the cracks in the planks above.

Zoro spins around, his shoulders hunched.

“To be alone.”

Nami sighs, stopping a few steps short of him.

“What’s with you? Aren’t you happy that your — your friend is alive?”

Zoro bears down on Nami, his eyes flashing.

“I don’t trust her — what if it’s not her? What if it’s a —” he waves a hand through the thickening darkness between them, “an imposter?”

Nami’s eyebrows kick up, “What, finally get your hands on a dictionary in Mag Mell?”

“Fuck you.”

Nami laughs, folding her arms as she leans up against the darkened hallway wall.

“Fine, you don’t trust her — but what else can we do? Leave her here for Crocodile and the rest of Baroque Works to catch up to her?”

Zoro tsks, turning around to pace the length of the hallway, every muscle in his body feeling tight and wrung out.

“Wouldn’t matter much — she can’t die remember?”

“Yes, she can,” Nami says, her words harsh enough to stun Zoro still. She stalks up to him, her eyes blazing in the imminent dark. “You’ve almost died once — tell me, was it a pleasant experience?”

A muscle ticks in Zoro’s jaw, but he keeps his mouth clamped shut.

He remembers it in pieces, in fever-break moments and mind-numbing delusions. He remembers the bone-deep ache that had seemed to permeate every inch of his body, of the dull pounding in his head as he tried to piece together what his crewmates were saying to him, sitting by his bedside. He’d known they were there, but he’d couldn’t let them know, couldn’t force him limbs to move the way he wanted.

It had been nothing short of agony.

“Look, I’m not asking you to trust her but at least think — think about the life she would’ve led in Baroque Works. What they might’ve made her do if they knew that every time she died, she’d just wake up in the last place she fell asleep.”

Like this, Nami’s voice is soft, almost silken. A spate of unease slithers down Zoro’s spine.

Zoro stares down at her. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d regarded Nami with the same kind of vague distrust.

“Think for a second, about the suicide missions they would’ve made her take.”

Those words ring through Zoro like a death knell, and he takes half a step back, his head spinning with the implications. She’s right, he hadn’t thought of the life you’d led; he’d been so caught up on the vast dissonance between the person you were and the person you'd become. He’d been so tangled in his own feelings of shame and anger that he hadn’t paused to think.

Nami sighs and takes a few more steps back.

“I mean. You heard her — just because dying is easy, that doesn’t make it painless.”

“I just —” Zoro closes his eyes, letting a clenched fist thump softly against the wall beside him. A terrible, hot prickling sensation is working its way up the back of his throat, constricting his airways. He swallows hard around it before turning to look at Nami once more.

“I just can’t stand the thought of losing her again.”

Nami lets out a breathy laugh, bobbing her head once. There’s still a steely light to her eyes, but her voice when she finally does speak is soft —

“Then make sure it doesn’t happen again. I mean, what are those three swords for anyway?”

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