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bombuni · 1 year ago

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a wild ride

summary: It’s Halloween night. Your friends have decided to take you out and get you drunk, but it’s kind of hard to focus on forgetting when the man you want to forget is standing across the room and flirting with another girl. genre/pairing: kim hongjoong x reader, slight yunho x reader, smut, jealous f2l wc: 4.4k warnings: SMUT, 18+ MDNI!, mentions of weed and drinking, cursing, drunk sex but they’re tipsy at the worst, mean!dom!hongjoong, but he's soft for reader, fem!sub!reader, bratty reader but she gets tamed quick, one instance of edging, finger sucking, name calling (just the use of ‘slut’) they’re both so possessive of each other and jealous it’s crazy bom note: this is my love letter to hongjoong’s bouncy outfit bc we moved on too fast</3 anywhooo THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1K!!! we hit it like a couple weeks ago but. it’s here now guys. I thank you for liking my works enough to follow and support and nothing will prove my gratitude but I just hope this comes close enough :) please enjoy and thanks once again everyone!!<3 also, here’s a playlist i made and listened to a lot while writing this!

You’re not really sure how your friends managed to talk you into coming out tonight. Much less, how you let Wooyoung drag you into matching costumes with him and San. Now you feel like an idiot standing in a fairly inaccurate rendition of a cat next to a pirate version of Seonghwa and Spider-man Yunho. Wooyoung seems to enjoy matching with you, although, letting everyone in the cramped house know that you three ‘have the best couples costume’ in the party. It’s embarrassing having to pull Wooyoung away from annoyed partygoers every 5 seconds, but he’s already halfway drunk and it’s sort of endearing how he boasts about you.

The night has barely started and whatever poor soul lives here should already be regretting hosting a Halloween party. There’s 4 couples making out in your line of sight, the smell of weed permeates your clothes, and the drunk-off-their-ass people in the middle of the room dancing to a poor remix of Monster Mash are sure to break something. There’s a rank scent that emanates from the wall on which you’re leaning against which makes you think someone’s already thrown up right where your shoulder is touching. Or it could just be Seonghwa’s breath, you’re not really sure.

The overwhelming heat from the bodies stuffed in the room is no comparison to the heat boiling inside of you. The humidity in the air and cacophony of noises do nothing to help your rising irritation. You try to cool it down with the iced drink in your hand, but the only way the warmth will go away is by looking away from Hongjoong-who’s in such a clear view from across the room you’d consider it God’s punishment for your selfish desire-and that’s never really going to happen. Not if he keeps looking at her while he’s dressed like that. That being in an intolerably well-fitting cowboy outfit. It’s obvious he knows he looks good, his forearm resting on the wall above the girl’s head as he leans down to hear her better. To get more intimate, to give her the same enticingly inviting smirk he gives you. Your cup crinlinking harshly in your fist snaps you out of the rage-induced trance. Seonghwa’s knowing smirk is haunting you from the corner of your eye, Yunho on your other side trying and failing to hide the same impish smile.

“You know you can’t actually blow people’s heads off if you stare hard enough, right?” Yunho chuckles, watching you out of the corner of his eye.

“Ha, ha,” the sarcasm flows right off of Yunho.

“Someone’s jealous,” Seonghwa’s voice is tinged with a taunt, the smell of alcohol absolutely dripping off of him as he leans into you. You’re fully aware of his drunken intentions to piss you off, but you try your best to be mature and ignore the teasing finger he’s pointing in your face.

“Jesus, are you 12?” Smacking the finger out of your face, he stumbles back in mild surprise.

Yunho’s at least somewhat sober, laughing at the ‘pirate’s’ drunk theatrics, “I have an idea for you-”

Seonghwa lifts his red solo cup in the air and his mouth moves faster than either you or Yunho can process, “You kiss Hongjoong!”

It’s simply impossible for Hongjoong to have heard him from across the room and over the various conversations and the loud music playing, but you still shush and shove Seonghwa in a panic as if he’ll come over and shoot you down right in front of everybody. He pulls the ridiculously fake eyepatch up over his eye to stare at you incredulously, “That was rude,”

Yunho pulls Seonghwa into him, a protective arm landing over him so you won’t slap the alcohol out of his system, “Why don’t you go and, I don’t know, tell Hongjoong you’re in love with him?” He says with a mocking voice, shrugging as if it’s a simple solution.

You scoff at the tall man, “First of all, I am not in love wi-“

All of a sudden, Wooyoung pops up between you and Yunho’s bodies with his drawn-on whiskers completely smudged and cat ears gone, “Hongjoong! You looovveee Hongjoong,” he’s swaying and already moved on to telling you how much he loves you instead when you try to respond. Yunho only smirks at you, I told you so clearly evident on his pale face.

You grumble embarrassedly and glance towards Hongjoong again to make sure he hasn’t heard any of your guys’ conversation , “I don’t.”

Wooyoung hums to the song playing, balance completely lost as he drops all of his body weight onto you and tunes out of the conversation. Seonghwa’s not fairing any better against Yunho, but he’s still trying to tell you what a match you and Hongjoong are.

“All we’re trying to say is that,” Yunho pauses to move Seonghwa’s fingers from his lips, “Hongjoong’s been in a bad mood all night watching you, and now he’s chatting up another girl? I-”

Wooyoung mumbles from where he’s resting on your shoulder, “Something’s fishy,”

Yunho nods, “What he said,”

You roll your eyes for the millionth time that night. A small, naive part of you really, really wants to believe your friends. But they’re drunk, and you’ll admit you’re slightly tipsy. You’ve accepted the fact that Hongjoong will never see you as more than a good friend. You look over to Hongjoong one more time in hopes that this time you won’t feel anything, but when you turn your head you find him already looking in your direction. You can’t really tell what his expression means, but his jaw is clenched and his scrutinizing eyes remain on Wooyoung’s arms around you. It’s no coincidence or trick of the light, you’re sure, but a poorly crafted Batman passes in front of you and Hongjoong’s back to being entranced by the girl next to him.

For a second, you’re lost in space and time. You should be embarrassed and ashamed that one glance from him is enough to send you careening back into fantasies of him, but the alcohol in your system and Yunho’s encouragement makes for a deadly combination. There’s a plan forming in your head. The sober half of you is rationalizing Hongjoong’s glance and telling you it was nothing more than that; a glance. But the tipsy half tells you that you miss 100% of the shots you don’t take.

As Yunho sips his drink idly, you decide to take your chance, “Wanna dance, Yunho?”

He exhales sharply through his nostrils, smiling smugly because he knows exactly what your intentions are, “Sure, kitty,”

He takes your hand gently and pulls you towards the makeshift dance floor. He bows elegantly as if this is a ballroom, but he looks ridiculous doing it in a Spider-Man costume amidst people of varying states of sobriety. While you’re busy doubled over laughing at him, he sneaks his arms around you. It’s sudden when he pulls you flush against his body, brown eyes searching yours for any uncertainty before pulling your arms around his neck. For some reason, touching the nape of his neck makes you feel a certain closeness to him. Yunho leans his forehead on yours and the intimacy he’s allowing you makes you regret inviting him to dance. He really shouldn’t be pulling out all the stops for a girl who’s thinking of someone else.

Yunho takes your silence as embarrassment from his showiness, “I gotta make it believable, right?” You’ve never really thought about how tall he is until now, head tilted to only focus on you. His big hands wrap around your waist and burn where they touch.

“R-right,” you mumble, still dizzy from Yunho’s closeness.

Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong’s fuming behind the sea of people. Your back is to him so you can’t see the pursed lips and furrowed eyebrows painted on his face. Yunho, on the other hand, gladly takes notice when he finally looks over to him. Hongjoong’s s gone to completely ignoring the girl he was talking to, only humming ‘yeah’s’ and ‘totally’s’ when he’s prompted. He’s burning holes into your back, as if glaring will suddenly remove you from Yunho. The fuse in him blows when you laugh at something Yunho said. The sound is barely heard over the music and myriad of voices, but it still reverberates through Hongjoong like it’s a call to him. Only meant for him.

“It worked,” Yunho whispers into your ear and sends chills down your spine, “Your cowboy’s stomping over.” You look at your Spiderman smiling down at you one last time when you feel a gloved hand on your shoulder. You can’t really see under the strobe lights, but there’s surely no smile on Hongjoong’s face. He’s glaring at Yunho like you’re his property that he’s touched without permission. Yunho’s hands slide slowly off of you compared to the quick removal of yours, just to piss Hongjoong off even more. You’re sure Yunho has another sort of personal vendetta against Hongjoong now.

“Hey, cowpoke,” there’s a lazy drawl in Yunho’s voice, bordering on venomous, “wanna join us?” Yunho’s hands move to wrap around you again, but Hongjoong quickly pulls you back into his side. He’s surprised by how easily you meld into his movements, but he doesn’t know how far you’d really let him go.

“You’re both drunk,” you follow like a lost puppy as he pulls you off the makeshift dance floor, “and need to be separated.”

Yunho hums behind you, “I’m perfectly sober,”

Hongjoong scoffs and as he opens his mouth to retort, you pull away from him, “I wanna keep dancing, Joong,”

Yunho shrugs as if the issue is completely out of his hands-again, what did Hongjoong do to him?-and smiles, “You heard the lady,” Hongjoong’s eyes fixate on the taller man, fists clenching at his side. If looks could kill, Yunho would have been 6 feet under ten minutes ago. His mind races with thoughts of how to get rid of Yunho, how to keep you for himself, and how his hand is still pulsing from when he felt yours, fearing he’s become addicted to your touch already.

His tone is final, “No.”

Before you can even say anything, Hongjoong drags you through the overflow of bodies towards the upstairs of the house. You can certainly hear Seonghwa and Wooyoung hollering obscenities at you-even over the party noise-before Hongjoong leads you deeper and deeper into the surprisingly large house. The hallways grow quieter and less crowded before he finds an empty room, letting you in first. It’s quaint and sparsely decorated, the soft environment settling your nerves. As you sit on the white bedsheets, Hongjoong watches you like you’re his next meal.

He finally speaks, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face, “You good?’

You raise an eyebrow at him, “Yes. Are you?”

He doesn’t answer you because he’s not really sure if he is. In truth, Hongjoong can’t stop looking at you. He’s sure your look tonight is imprinted in his brain all the way from the short, short skirt to the ridiculously low cut top you’re wearing. He’s frustrated with himself that he feels so possessive over you, as if you’re already his. He’s frustrated with you for simply letting Wooyoung and Yunho do as they please.

You watch as he sits on the bed next to you, fiddling with the cuffs of his gloves. He’s trying to act nonchalant, but you can tell he’s holding back from scolding you with the way he’s biting his cheek. He’s good at hiding it from others, but not from you.

His words are short and sharp, “Were you having fun with Yunho?”

The question catches you off guard. You mirror him, playing with your fishnet leggings and watching him out of the corner of your eye. You’re scared he’ll say yes, but you ask anyway, “Were you?”

Hongjoong turns to you, “I asked first,”

You roll your eyes at him, “Whatever. You seemed pretty happy talking to Ms. Boobs-in-your-face,”

You’re being petty and insulting a girl you don’t even know, but the irritation from earlier is returning with a fiery revenge. It keeps building the more you think about the way her hands would continuously run down the textured white lines on his shirt. Or how he’d smile at her like she was the only person in the room. You can feel his eyes on you again and you’re too embarrassed to meet them. You’re sure he’s sporting a cocky smile now that he’s heard the jealousy dripping in your voice.

“You didn’t seem to mind Yunho grinding on you,” he spits out before he can stop himself.

That finally makes you look at him, “He was not-”

“And Wooyoung’s hands all over you,”

You gawk at him, surprised to know that he had been watching you too. Now the pettiness you’re both showing is obvious. The air is tense before you speak, Hongjoong’s intent glare making you feel small, “You know how Wooyoung is, especially when he’s drunk,”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes at you, “Doesn’t explain Yunho crawling all over you,”

You cross your arms, inadvertently pushing your tits together and Hongjoong has to hold back a groan, “Why are you so concerned with what Yunho and I do?”

There’s a mutual understanding of the jealousy coursing through the room, though it’s unspoken. In your anger, however, you can’t really process the fact that he’s possessive over you. That he’s outright admitting he thinks of you as his, and vice versa. Instead of simply kissing and making up, you keep pissing each other off. Why you keep pressing his buttons you’re not sure, but you can’t deny how hot Hongjoong looks with the black cowboy hat tilted over his face, muscular arms tensing under the dim light.

He stands to his full height again-too frustrated to stay still-moving so that he’s right in front of you, “What, so you’re into Yunho all of a sudden?”

“Did you just bring me up here so you can interrogate me on my love life?” you mumble.

His jaw clenches again, “You’re so mouthy tonight, you know that? I’m getting sick of it,”

He’s invading your space now, lips so close you could just reach up and touch them with yours, “What are you going to do about it, Hongjoong?”

The words seem to set something off in him, his lips on you so fast it’s dizzying. His warm hands automatically find their way to your hips as he pushes you backwards onto the bed. He’s finally figured out how to silence you, muffling any sounds you make with his mouth. Anything that comes from you, he wants for himself. It’s sloppy and uncoordinated, both too focused on getting out all the built up feelings and frustration. Neither of you care about anything but getting more and more of each other. You feel his tongue finding its way into your mouth and you don’t put up much of a fight anymore.

He doesn’t pause his attack on your lips, panting while he speaks, “You gonna keep mouthing off, baby?”

Your mind short-circuits at the nickname. Although a large part of your annoyance has now dissipated, his lips like water to soothe the burn of your desire, you still want to see how far you can push him,

“Dunno,” you pant out.

His right hand slides up from your hip bone to your jawline as goosebumps follow the trail of his touch. A whine slips out of you when Hongjoong’s hand contracts, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout so your focus is on his words. He can’t help the prideful smirk when he hears the noise you make, happy to know he has such an effect on you.

“I know,” a kiss to your jawline, “I’m going to show you who you belong to,”

You wiggle in his grasp, but he’s holding you tight, “And exactly who do I belong to?”

He smirks down at you, thoughts running through all the ways he’s going to break you, “Oh, you’re funny,” he leans threateningly over you, “You’re very funny,”

Just because you enjoy the game of stirring him on you continue, “Yunho said the same thing,”

He smiles dangerously at you. Not dangerous in the sense of attractiveness, but more in the sense that it’s a warning to the vicious, envious territory you’re entering. You feel your resolve melting against him, the air suffocating you with the thick, heavy feeling of pent-up desire. However, he doesn’t even let you get the right words out before he sticks his thumb into your mouth. It’s surprisingly appetizing, and you don’t wait for his sign to go before wrapping your lips around it. It’s your silent apology for what you said.

Now, his smile is gentler. But it’s Hongjoong, and Hongjoong doesn’t let things go so easy.

“Sluts needs to be quiet,” he whispers softly, but it’s who it’s coming from that makes it so you hear it loud and clear. You nod in obedience, still lapping as he adds more fingers into your mouth, exploring this part of your body.

“You know what else sluts need to do?” You shake your head and open your eyes up at him, “They need to fucking behave.”

He growls, “You’re gonna take what I give you until I’ve had enough. Then I’ll give you what you want,”

You want to whine and protest, but he’s looking at you like that’s not even an option. He stares down at you, taunting and challenging you. Hongjoong knows you’re not happy about his rules, but he doesn’t care. You need to learn to forget about anyone other than him. He won’t stop until you do. Your mouth pulls off of his fingers with a pop and you realize all too quickly what a mistake you’ve made.

His eyes squint at you, “Did I tell you to stop?”

You peer up at him with a guilty look, pout heavy on your lips hoping he’ll show just the slightest bit of mercy. But once again, it’s Hongjoong. He manhandles you towards him, back to his chest and for some reason it feels like you’re a complete puzzle.

He gropes your sides, pulling you close so you can feel how hard he is for you. The feeling of him rubbing against you makes you moan, the sheer satisfaction of finally getting what you want making you high on the pleasure. You know you’re supposed to be quiet, but the excitement of going against Hongjoong just ‘cause makes you want to do it more.

You spot his blue hair out of the corner of your eye as he leans down to your ear, “You’re gonna be quiet and take it like a good slut,” His right arm comes up and around your neck, pulling you in as if you aren’t already close enough, “Unless you want Yunho to hear?”

His clothed dick is making you weak. It’s the only friction he’s given you so far and it’s already breaking and tearing you apart. You shake your head vigorously, spouting nonsense babbles as if you’re appalled Hongjoong would even suggest that. However, Hongjoong seems all too enticed by the idea of everyone hearing how loud he can make you. You try to get more from him by rutting back into him, hoping he liked your answer, but he stops your hips.

“Sluts don’t get what they want, baby,” He pants into your ear and you realize he’s just as torn as you are, he’s just better at hiding it. His hand finds its way under your skirt, fumbling to pull your panties down. The sound of your wet pussy fills the room as Hongjoong plays with your folds, agonizingly slow to make you shake with anticipation.

He smiles down at you, “You’re so fucking wet,”

Before you can say anything snappy, he slides in you. He fills you just right, and you don’t want to sound crazy, but you feel like your pussy was sculpted just for him. His cock drives in you and hits right where you need it to. It makes you want to fall over, too weak to hold yourself up, but Hongjoong stops that from even happening.

You’re whining for more, “Keep being loud and Wooyoung will hear you,”

You gasp as he thrusts in you, but it just spurs him on. Being buried in you feels right, like it’s where he was made to be. He chalks up his intensified feelings to the alcohol flowing in his system.

Your moans mix together, “Seonghwa too? Want me to make everyone in this house know who’s fucking you?”

You can barely keep your head up, much less respond to him. The bed squeaks as he thrusts in you over and over again, limbs entangled. You start to think Hongjoong may have some jealousy issues, but you don’t mind.

His hand snakes around you again, this time reaching to play with your clit. His fingers make your knees buckle, the rhythm between his hips and his hand sending a new wave of pleasure through you. You don’t have the energy to process it, but all the while he’s telling you how he’s the only one who can touch you like this.

Your lower half is on fire, white hot sparks of pleasure flowing all the way from your abdomen to your toes. All of your senses are heightened because of Hongjoong’s touch and you feel the pleasure reaching its tipping point, right before Hongjoong rips his hand away and stops his hips.

Your complaint is right on the tip of your tongue, but Hongjoong drags you like a ragdoll over him before you can get the words out. Your senses haven’t even come back to you yet, but Hongjoong looks up at you with the cockiest smile and you feel that same bliss again.

His hands on your hips turns your nervous system on again, “You wanna cum, baby?”

Your voice comes out hoarse, “Yes. Yes, please, Joongie,”

He looks up at you contemplatively, as if deciding whether you deserve to finish or not. It makes a defiant whine build up in your throat the longer he takes.

He shushes you with a nudge, “Then work for it.”

Hongjoong’s tone is final and even though you’re on top of him, there’s no room for control or for arguing. He looks up at you expectantly, simply waiting for you to obey. You want to grab his collar, make him regret talking to you like he owns you, but unfortunately he in fact does.

The cowboy hat is befitting now, so you take it for yourself. His blue hair is disheveled and tangled underneath it, but he still looks celestial. A laugh rips out of him as the hat tips over your head when you look down. You pout at him, but the giggles slip into groans when you slide down him again.

It’s entirely too distracting for Hongjoong, and he has to bite his lip to hold back from cumming on the spot. You’re too tight and wet, too perfect for him. He almost regrets putting you in this position now.

But you look too good all sweaty on top of him, mouth parted open in satisfaction, with the sound of skin against skin accompanying you. Watching you bounce with his hat on makes him feel a little crazy.

His hand reaches for your clit again, finding that spot that he’s learned your body really likes. Your back arches against his fingers, shuddering at the feeling of him. His fingers follow a pattern against you, persistent in their goal to make you cum. It’s too good, too fast. You can’t help it as your body falls over him, pleasure overriding your ability to function.

Hongjoong laughs at you, “Can't do anything on your own, huh? Dumb slut needs me to help,” You nod against his neck, hiding your embarrassed blush.

He, uncharacteristically, kisses the crown of your head. You suppose it’s an apology for the way he hauls your thighs over him, then slams you back down on his cock again. Once again, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. You feel the heat rising in you again, your body tightening up against Hongjoong.

This time there’s no signs of him stopping, his forearms keeping a tight hold of your thighs as he spears you on his cock over and over again, his desperate pants right by your ear.

He senses you’re near your tipping point, “See? All you needed was a good fucking for you to behave,”

You nod brainlessly, simply following whatever he says with only one thing on your mind.

“You can cum, baby. Want you to be loud so even fucking Yunho knows,”

You feel it coursing through you. It’s been a slow build up waves caused by Hongjoong, but now with his permission it turns into a full-on tsunami hitting you. The pleasure shoots through you, your entire body seizing up as it takes over you. Hongjoong fucks you through it with slow, shallow thrusts. Or at least he tries to, before the feeling of your tightening pussy finally pulls the orgasm out of him. He’s quick to pull out, his cum splattering all over his lower abdomen.

When you’re done, you’re left panting and sweaty on his still shirt-clad chest. You feel his racing heartbeat against your hands, heavy breaths beating against you. You look up and Hongjoong has the softest, tranquil smile for you.

“I only danced with Yunho to make you jealous,” you mumble amidst the silence.

His hand runs through your hair under his hat, “I only flirted with that girl to make you jealous,”

You’re scared by how soft and intimate it’s suddenly turned. You’re scared Hongjoong only thinks of you as a fuck buddy now, nothing more nothing less. So, You don’t say anything else.

He knows you by now, knows where every cog in your brain goes and how it works. Hongjoong pokes your cheek gently, “That means I like you a lot,”

“Oh,” you feel your heartbeat pick up speed, “me too.”

“Good,” he smiles at you again, that charming and sugary sweet smile he only gives you, “then we’ll go on a date.” You nod into him, blissful peace finally settling over you.

You’re halfway to sleep when Hongjoong speaks up again, “Can I have my hat back?”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #ateez fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong imagines

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kenobers · 8 months ago

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pride & periods | Jason Todd x Sionis!Reader

but first free palestine !! Your regularly scheduled hook-up session with Jason Todd is rudely interrupted by the arrival of your period. As tragedy strikes, you have to ask Jason to buy you pads, perhaps throwing a curveball in your still emerging relationship. this installment comes before this one; you don't know jason is red hood in this one (not that it really matters to this particular story) tw: periods, mentions of drugging, reader having issues with acts of service, afab readera/n: i'm writing additions to this story completely out of order because i can. don't worry - you're gonna be the one comforting jason soon, just stay tuned. and if you're following me for the obi-wan content, i promise you'll also be fed soon. the sionis!reader concept was inspired by this ask on gilverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gilverr and anon! please check out their blog!

You cringe at your choice of words, wishing you'd thought harder before sending the text. Well actually, you cringe at the entire situation. You despise having to ask for help, but you're more than a little desperate.

Would you-

Too entitled.

Would you mind-

Passive aggressive.

Will-

Your phone buzzes before you can finish typing.

yo.

That was fast.

You take a deep breath. Jason was coming over anyway and it wasn't like you were in any position to have sex like you were planning to. And this constitutes as a bit of an emergency, considering you're currently sitting on a wad of toilet paper.

Can you pick me up some pads?

You hit send and drop your phone on your bed. This is so embarrassing for no reason. Jason's a good guy, he isn't going to judge you for being on your period of all things. He's not going to hold it against you if you can't have sex either.

It was just that you weren't sure your relationship was...like that. Acts of service and all that. A month ago, you wouldn't have even considered asking him to do this. But you'd been a lot more personal with one another lately. Making dinner, staying the night, being physically affectionate while your clothes were still on.

Your phone vibrates and you frantically feel for the purple case in the grey and white sheets. You'll deal with that giddy feeling later.

i don't know, can i?

Fucker, you think, glaring at your screen. You start furiously forming a response about how you aren't in the fucking mood for this when your phone buzzes again.

yeah, of course i can. need anything else? painkillers? chocolate?

You eye the empty bottle on your nightstand. Your stomach cramps painfully.

I'm out of ibuprofen

Then you consider for a moment. With a sigh, you bite back your pride. Well, if he's offering.

...and maybe some ice cream.

you got it babe.

Babe. Heat rushes to your cheeks as the corners of your mouth twitch upwards.

Ten minutes later his name flashes on your screen again, along with a photo of a wall of pads.

which kind

Damn, he was kind of good at this. A flare of jealousy burns through you at the thought of Jason doing this for some other girl. Another feeling you'll deal with later. You circled your preferred brand and send it back.

check. headed your way shawty.

After another ten minutes, the rumbling of a motorcycle echoes through your street. Nine minutes and 45 seconds later, the sound of your living room window sliding open lures you from your bed.

You fight back a goofy grin at the sight of Jason's large-than-life frame slipping through the window, two plastic bags balanced in one gloved hand. Leaning against your kitchen island, you allow yourself a second to admire the curve of his ass in those joggers.

"Hey," you greet, shivering as a gust of wind followed the man. He gives you a toothy grin, sliding the window shut. With a dramatic flourish of his arm, he presents the drugstore bag to you.

"Your essentials, m'lady."

"Oh, my hero," you giggle, taking the bag gratefully. You eye the second bag suspiciously, although the telltale red thank you print and the smell of fried rice give the contents away. "Chinese?"

"Chinese," he confirms. "And before you say anything, I was already picking it up when you texted."

You purse your lips. He was starting to know you too well. You would've said something, would've lied about how you weren't hungry. The idea that he'd already thought to do something nice for you before he even knew about your situation makes your stomach twist.

Jason takes a step closer, trapping you between him and the island. He reaches behind you to set the food on the counter, green eyes trained on your face. It's hard not to shrink below his quizzical gaze. Goosebumps cover your bicep as the leather of his jacket rubs against your bare arm.

Bastard.

"That okay, pretty girl?"

Fuck, he's handsome. He knows it too, know to flick his dark hair just so. Knows how to look at you so that any "oh, you shouldn't have" argument you can conjure up falters before it can reach your tongue. It certainly doesn't help that he's flexing the arm reaching behind you just so.

"Perfect, even," you purr, uncrossing your arms to play with his jacket zipper. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it." You try not to roll your eyes at him, reminding yourself that you were opting to be nicer to him tonight. He is your hero after all. His hands fall to your hips, his thumbs running along the bone. "How you feeling?"

You shrug, suppressing another shiver as his pinkie pokes below the length of your shorts.

"Shitty. Like everything hurts," you answer honestly. Your lip twitches and you abandon his jacket zipper in favor of the strings of his sweatshirt.

"'m sorry we can't, y'know, do what we planned." The apology floods abruptly from your lips. "I would offer to do it anyways, but I just, I-I can't with these cramps." Your hips twinge with pain to emphasize your point. "But, I mean, I can blow you if you really want-"

"Hey."

Two fingers tilt your chin up, tough leather juxtaposing soft skin. You hadn't even realized you'd stopped looking at his face. He's smiling at you.

"Don't worry about it," he says for the second time. "Lemme make you feel better. It'll piss Roman off just as much."

You both look pointedly at the bookshelf you're fairly certain your father had hidden some sort of recording device.

"Besides," he continues with a wolfish smirk. "I've become accustomed to a certain level of performance from you and I'm not sure if I'd receive that if you're not at your peak."

"Fine, only because you insisted," you sigh. "And I'm gonna do you a favor and ignore that last part." You turn away from him, fishing the package of pads and the ibuprofen out of the drugstore bag. "I'm gonna go...yeah."

You wave the package in the air as you head for the bathroom. With your back turned, you don't catch Jason saluting you.

When you return, you notice one of the books on the shelf has been inconspicuously placed over a Wonder Woman knick knack. Part of you is relieved to know your father can't spy on you tonight. Another part of you feels a pang of anxiety knowing that means tonight is just for the two of you to enjoy each other's company. As people. Not fuckbuddies.

This is still casual. Professional, you tell yourself. It's not like he's my boyfriend.

You turn to the kitchen, where Jason is pulling plates out of a cupboard, and ignoring the smaller voice that wouldn't mind him being your boyfriend.

He hands the plates to you, letting you dish the both of you up.

Jason sidles up behind you, pressing his chest to your back. You lean into him, letting him support your weight.

"Chinese was a good call," you say. He hums in response, dipping his hands under your shirt to rub your sides. You yelp in alarm as something wet hits your skin.

"Dude! What the fuck!"

Jason backs up, holding two cream covered hands in the air. He looks apologetic enough, but still smirks at the way you glowered at him over your shoulder. It's an awful cute look when it isn't coming from behind an ugly ass skull mask.

"It's just CBD."

You spin around, pointing your spoon straight at his heart.

"CBD- what, are you trying to get me high?"

It's all Jason can do not to double over laughing. He'd take a picture if he wasn't certain you would find a way to lodge that spoon in a major artery.

His laughter has you fidgeting nervously, trying to maintain your hard stare.

"Don't laugh at me."

To his credit, he stops immediately. He straightens his posture and gestures to a small round container on the counter.

"It's just a lotion. Helps with joint pain, I use it all the time. I thought it might help with cramps."

You blink. That was...incredibly thoughtful of him.

"Oh."

You turn back to the food, continuing your task sheepishly. All you ever do in front of this man is embarrass yourself. And orgasm.

He creeps back to his spot cautiously. You glance over your shoulder, briefly meeting his eyes.

"You can...continue," you tell him, your tone much softer now. He presses a kiss to the exposed junction of your neck and slides his hands back under your shirt.

It does feel nice to have him massage the cool lotion into your aching body. His fingers seem to know exactly where to go, undoing the built up tension and leaving a light buzz in its place.

"I'm sorry I snapped like that," you whisper. "I overheard some of my dad's idiots talking about some kind of lube that's infused with LSD or something. Apparently it's becoming a popular method for people to get what they want so...little on edge."

There’s a tense pause. From the corner of your eyes, you can see Jason’s jaw twitch, like he’s chewing on a question. You consider changing the subject, but after a moment, he speaks again, "I wouldn't drug you like that, you know."

"What, topically?" You scoff, dividing the orange chicken equally.

"Without your consent."

You pause. You suppose you hadn't given much thought to how much Jason respected you in that regard. To be fair, you'd never really been around men that respected you at all.

"Well, that's good to know." It's not the most sensitive response, but you're not sure what else to say. The conversation desperately needs to move on before you start oversharing. "Let's eat, big guy."

After dinner, Jason applies the lotion again. This time, you're sat on the couch between his legs as he drives the stuff into a knot on your hip. The TV drones with some black comedy series the two of you have been watching at the recommendation of one of his brothers.

"Do you get a lot of joint pain?" You ask suddenly, looking back at him. He doesn't tear his eyes away from the screen.

"Huh?"

"You said you use it a lot on your joints. The CBD stuff, I mean. Do you get a lot of joint pain?" Now he looks at you, one slitted eyebrow raised. For a moment you watch him try to remember when he told you that. Then he smirks, a silly view from upside down.

"I do whenever you get through with me," he chuckles, his chest vibrating under you. You give him a look. "Sometimes after the gym, yeah."

You're not quite sure you believe him, but you let it slide, turning back to the TV in time to see your least favorite character earn a smack to the face.

"It was nice of you to bring it."

"'s helping?"

"Mmh," You sigh as he works a particularly tough spot. Your relief is short lived however as the small of your back cramps up. A small gasp escapes you and you squirm and swear in Jason's arms.

He pauses his work on your hips.

"Where's it hurt?"

"Back," you whimper, turning over so he can get to it. He obliges immediately, rubbing the butt of his palm into the sore spot. You groan into his chest, melting beneath his magic hands. "The fuck did I ever manage this shit before you?"

He snorts, "very bravely, I'm sure."

You smile at his answer. Clever boy. You reward him with a kiss, pleased when he returns it in kind. His hand doesn't stop its work on your back as his soft lips move gently with your own.

"You sure you don't want a blowjob?" you murmur against his mouth.

Jason nods, giving you another chaste kiss before pulling away. "You're in pain, sweetheart. Let yourself rest."

He moves his lips to your ear, lowering his voice.

"Now, how about that ice cream, hm?"

#i must once again warn you this isn't proof read #no beta we die like jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd #red hood #sionis!reader #kenobers poetics #this is a little repetitive but that's fine

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bump1nthen1ght · 2 months ago

Text

Attention To Detail Part Two (M!Demon x M!Cosplayer!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Demon x Male!Cosplayer!Reader

Genre: Fluff to Smut, Chance Meetings, Porn with a little Plot

Chapter Summary: After your mysterious meeting that halloween and fruitless searching, you'd accepted that you would probably never meet that handsome cosplayer again. Left with only a fake name and a costume, Galvith might as well have not existed at all. Little did you know, all it takes is another party and another costume to draw you two back together.

Warnings: Explicit Content Under the Cut (18+ ONLY)

Word Count: 3869 words

Part 1

A/N: The long awaited part two is here! I originally didn't have plans to continue this piece, content with where it left off. But given how much people enjoyed the first part, I found myself occasionally coming back to this concept and wondering where to go next. I probably started and stopped this second time almost ten times, never happy with how it was coming out. But after a sudden bout of inspiration I found myself outlining this and writing it all in a weeks time. Given my usual writing schedule, that's lightning fast lol. Hope y'all enjoy! Now, on to the shameless smut <3

God, my head hurts.

It’s a common thought one has in a nightclub. Pounding music, screaming people, flashing lights; The perfect recipe for a sensory nightmare. Combine that with sweat slowly dehydrating you, the slight buzz from the jello shots you threw back with friends, it's no wonder your head throbs. It's the one time you regret going hard for your costume, even if it's quickly swept away by your artistic pride. From the glimpses you get from the grungy, paint splattered mirrors littering this too-cramped club’s walls, you can tell you look good.

Your and your friends had decided to go as a group of angels, with very different final results. Some had gone with typical halloween angels, simple white clothes and wings and a halo. Others had gone farther out and went as Victoria Secret Angels, with fancy lingeries and flared shoulder pieces, evoking wings rather than having them outright. You met it somewhere in the middle: More costume-like than the Victoria Secret ones, but more slutty than the halloween ones. Your white toga was scandalously short, almost sweated through amongst all the dancing, but luckily you're body paint hadn’t smudged, the several faux eyes decorating your neck and collarbone still in detail enough to be recognized. But the real centerpiece was the headband, dedicatedly held in place by several bobby pins digging into your scalp, luckily still holding many of its intricate details You definitely went overboard with the thing, an uncomfortable weight amidst the thrashing of bodies. But you can’t regret wearing it, the fine detail on the wings and the gold accessories really pulling your outfit together. Without it you just look like a slutty roman gladiator, with it you resembled more the slutty “biblically accurate angel” that had inspired your look. The pictures from tonight were gonna look awesome.

The setting has you whole group feeling themselves, bumping and grinding both with each other and total strangers. The energy of the costume-night is electric, the comfortableness of their masks letting everyone run wild. It’s part of why you don’t shy away when a big pair of hands finds it way on your hips, denim pressing against your barely-clad backside. You revel in the breath that brushes across the back of your neck, the stranger so tall they have to bend around your headband to whisper into your ear.

“Posing as an angel, my incubus? How naughty.” The voice purrs, finally stopping you in your tracks.

No fucking way.

You whip around, heart pounding as your thoughts are confirmed, dark purple skin and bright yellow eyes.

“Galvith!” You squeal, almost drowned out by the pounding bass. You're quick to throw your arms around his shoulders, sink into his grip just like that fateful night those months ago. “Holy shit! I didn’t think you were still in town!”

You had been almost convinced he was a dream, if not for the several party-goers that corroborated the story of you making out with him on the dance floor. But none could confirm who he was, or even what his real name was. You had damn-near interrogated everyone in your friend group and beyond who had been there, even searched some niche roleplay websites with the name he had given you, and nothing. It had bummed you out immensely, chasing similar sensations with others in clubs not unlike this one, wondering if maybe you had unlocked a new part of yourself. But nothing compared to him, to that one night you almost spent together.

“I came back for you, sweetling. Just like I said I would.” Somehow that low voice of his cuts through the music, resonates straight into your ears. You melt under the attention, the way his eyes roll down your body making your skin burn.

“H-how’d you find me?” You ask, wondering if he had done the same thing as you, had searched for weeks, looking for his ‘little incubus.’

Galvith laughs, leaning into your cheek and sniffing.

“I followed that enticing little scent,” Galvith leans down and nips at the bottom of your earlobe, an electric shock running down your spine, “-I could never forget it.”

Galvith wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in, all questions thrown from your mind as he grinds a sizable bulge against your crotch. Even from behind denim you can feel it pulsing, can feel a tent pitch under your toga. God, you hope your friends are distracted with partners of their own, because the way you're throwing yourself at him right now is shameful.

“I-” your voice catches as Galvith writhes his hips in a circle, robbing you of sensible speech for a second, “-I couldn’t forget you either.” You bat your eyelashes, try to embody the sultry incubus you were that night, the confidence that had been instilled in you. It had carried in the days afterward, had inspired the very costume you’re wearing, and you refuse to let it falter now that he’s back.

Galvith’s smile widens, those familiar costume fangs looking extra sharp tonight. Goosebumps pepper down your arms when his calloused hand runs across the exposed skin of your thigh. It finds its place right below your ass, fingers reaching under the fabric and squeezing. You swoon then and there, knees knocking together. It’s all on Galvith to hold you up, keep you pressed together, chest to chest. He leans in close, your noses touching.

“I didn’t get to finish what I started last time.” A long tongue, pierced, flicks out and wets his lips. “Let's fix that.”

—

Last year, you’d never have done this.

You were barely a club person already, the aforementioned suffocating noise and cramp of people only tolerable with the right group of friends and at max 3 times a year. Even tonight, the appeal of costumes had been the biggest draw. Yet here you are, making out with a man you’ve met twice, pressed as close as you can in this stuffy supplies closet. Here the bass barely penetrates, only the gentle murmur of people and the far away beats of the music. The only thing you can focus on is the smacking of lips, of your heavy breaths as Galvith steals the air right out of your lungs.

You two grind on each other like teenagers, like the only time you have must be spent in each other's skin, savoring all the affection you can give one another. Your cock aches, harder than it's ever been, a deep ache settling in your stomach. So horny you don’t even care how gross this closet is, how many people were probably here before, doing the exact same thing.

“Always dressed so tempting, my little artist.” Galvith says in between sloppy kisses, “I must admit, I think this outfit might be my favorite.” He punctuates with another squeeze to your ass, toga hiked up over your hips, revealing your white boxers. Just as angelic as the rest of you.

“I thrifted it.” You pant, envious of how composed Galvith sounds compared to your quivering voice. “Five bucks.”

Galvith chuckles, a low sound that only tightens the knot in your abdomen. His lips graze yours, your breaths mingling.

“And this?” He flicks one of the many ornaments from your headband, still tucked in place on your head. You hesitate to take it off, not wanting to risk it being crushed or lost amidst your writhing bodies. Not to mention that with the amount of pins keeping it in place, removing it would take away precious time from making out. “It has your artistic flair, such elegant details.” The praise rolls down your spine like a drug, setting your senses tingling. “Though I do prefer you in more….demonic settings, dearest.”

One of Galvith’s hands knots on the base of your skull, yanks you into another kiss. His hips move rhythmically, your hands fumbling for his fly. You need him, you need him so bad.

“Ah, so desperate, sweet thing.” Galvith says, deftly undoing what your fumbling hands cannot. His bulge practically bursts from behind the zipper, cock almost see through against his black boxer briefs. The sight has your mouth watering, but before you can drop to your knees like a true incubus, Galvith reaches up your toga and wrenches down your underwear, the fabric stretching around your thighs as your hard cock thwaps against your stomach. You hardly have time to moan before Galvith is palming your balls, his long fingers nearly reaching your asshole. With a shuddering gasp you fall into his grip, his thumb now fondling your sack and squeezing.

“F-fuck.” Your voice trembles, a pitiful whine coming from your chest when his hand leave you, even if just to hawk a glob of spit into it. The seconds feel too long, hips jumping to try and force your cock back in his hand, finally rewarded with his now slick grip wrapping around your shaft.

“You like that?” Galvith purrs, the voice of someone who knows you do. “So hot, incubus, I can feel your blood pulsing.”

Galvith’s movements are slow as he glides up your cock, squeezing extra around reaches your head and rubbing his thumb along your slit. Gooey tracks of your precum follow it, connecting to his thumb pad like a spider’s web. The sounds it makes are sticky, the tell-tale slap as he jerks his hand back down ricocheting across your stomach like a thunder crack. “Ah!” Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip as Galvith starts moving faster, but not nearly fast enough. He seems to relish in the teasing, nostrils flaring as he looks down at you from under his eyelashes, tongue flitting out to rub across his lips.

Pre-cum gushes over the small hole of his fist, splattering across the sides of his fingers. With what little coordination you have left, quickly leaving with each jerk of your cock, your fumbling hands reach for his own bulge. Palming it through the fabric, Galvith growls. What feels like hot steam blows out of his flared nostrils, his wrists speeding up, a little caught off guard.

Your fingers splay across his bulge, feeling for the head, a stain forming on the black fabric. You barely have a grip around it before Galvith is wrenching his hand off your cock and spinning you around, free hand pressing into your lower back and making it arch. He lets out another snarling breath against the back of your neck, the sound of shuffling fabric being pushed down to release his cock. You try to crane your neck back to see, so desperate to place an image to the monster you felt, but Galvith’s body quickly pins you against the closet wall, sweat making your cheek stick to the cool concrete.

“I fucking need you.” Galvith ends with a nip to your shoulder, his hot and thick cockhead pressing against your asshole. A shiver rolls down your spine, toes curling at just the anticipation.

“Then t-take me.” You pant, proud you’re still able to come up with dirty talk in your state.

A purr rumbles from Galvith’s chest. He pulls back a little bit just to spit some more, this time on your tight hole, spreading open your ass cheeks like it’s a birthday present. It tingles in a way you didn’t think possible, something akin to the numbing cream you’d get at the doctor’s. Once it’s been thoroughly rubbed in, Galvith leans closer and you both finally get what you’ve been craving for months.

When Galvith slips into you, all feels right in the world. You melt into his arms, cock bouncing against your stomach, his hot breath blowing past your cheeks as he sighs. Your knees begin to shake, but before they can collapse underneath you Galvith is holding onto your waist, hoisting you up and deeper onto his cock. With a squeaking voice, you yelp a debaucherous “fu-uck~” as his cock-head brushes against your prostate. So quick and so deep, yet you're already fiending for more. With the little ability you have left you try to roll your pelvis back, grinding on his girth. “P-please.” Your wanton voice moans, and Galvith doesn’t bother teasing you any longer.

“How could I say no?”

With that last playful remark, Galvith starts pistoning his hips like an machine, his body an engine sculpted just for fucking your brains out. Your head throws back, his face nuzzling into the side of your neck, fangs grazing against your pulse. He doesn’t seem to mind your extravagant headband, easily craning his neck around it, sweetly considerate of your hard-made art piece. God, could he get any hotter?

It doesn’t cross your mind the impossibleness of this current scenario. Galvith had felt massive in your palm, bigger than anything you had taken before, and despite your horniness you were only human, with human limitations. But the way his cock drags along your insides has you quickly forgetting such things, has you waving away the way his spit makes every muscle relax, becoming moldable putty against his molten skin. How each hit against your prostate has you seeing literal stars. Who cares that it doesn’t make sense, that you should be absolutely torn from taking this monster with so little prep, it feels too goddamn good.

Your bodies become one, a set of writhing heat and fluids as Galvith fucks you hard and fast. You never thought you were one for rough play, used to the slow and loving pace of ex-boyfriends. Not that Galvith isn’t affectionate, with his arm wrapped around your waist and his chest pressed against your back, whispering dirty praise into your ear.

“Feel so fucking good, human.” Galvith pants, though hardly from exertion, the way he’s manipulating your body absolutely effortless. “Knew you would. Could taste it.” A long tongue flicks out and licks your cheek. The delirium has you ignoring the strange texture, the way it oddly splits at the end. “I thought of you every night. All the different ways I’d ravage my naughty little incubus.” His balls slap against your ass cheeks, heavy and full. Even with the pounding bass suffocating the dancefloor, it wouldn’t surprise you if people could hear the plaps of of your two bodies meeting. A moan claws it way out of your throat when Galvith’s free hand wraps around your cock, still slick with his spit and jerking you off as furiously as he fucks you. “I bet you look so cute when you come, sweetling. So sweet for me.” A possessive snarl lingers in Galvith’s voice, manifests in a sucking kiss to your neck, no doubt leaving a sizeable hickey. All you can do under this assault is nod and babble, drool already slipping down your jaw.

It’s unfair how coordinated Galvith is, perfectly matching the pace of his hand and his cock, leaving you not even a moment to breathe. When his thumb is rubbing across your head his own pounds against your prostate, the world going white for seconds at a time, your brain too overwhelmed by stimulus to even try to make sense of it. When his palm reaches down to fondle your balls his shaft is pulsing against your insides, dragging out inch by inch and making you crave the fullness again.

The two of you meet halfway in a wet, drooling kiss. You hardly put in any effort, your mouth just another hole for Galvith to fuck open with his tongue, too fucked-out to even try and match his skill. He doesn’t seem to mind, moaning and cock twitching within you.

“G-onna cum.” You delirious voice slurs, eyes rolling back into your head, balls feeling taut. Your stomach rolls in on itself, your toes curling into the grimy club closet floor. It feels better than it ever has before, this rolling wave coming over you. Jesus, you think you might cum buckets.

“M-me too.” Galvith stutters, the first sign of strain in his voice. Sweat drips down his brow and onto your cheek, his tongue quickly lapping it up. “Want me to fill you up, my little artist. Wanna walk out here with my cum dripping down your ass?”

“Uh-huh!” You moan, that tidal wave growing bigger and bigger. “Pl-please!”

“Yes.” Galvith’s voice hits an octave so deep you're sure only dogs can fully hear it. It’s the final straw that breaks the camel's back, a simple word that has you tumbling over the edge.

“Ah!”

“Unngh!”

Several jets of hot cum shoot jets into your asshole, quickly filling it to the very brim. Gushes of it leak out from the sides, despite the tight seal Galvith;s thick cock makes. You're thankful that you’re wearing white, because your own orgasm has you creaming all across the front of your toga, streams stretching high enough to hit your navel.

Like you, it takes Galvith several breaths to come back to himself, his sweaty forehead laying slumped over your shoulders. It’s a relief, knowing he’s as properly destroyed as you are. Makes you feel less like a wimp. Even as he pulls out, thick gooey strings falling down your thighs, you can tell he struggles holding himself up.

“Holy Fuck.” Your voice comes out in a wheeze, head hanging low as your forearms rest against the wall. Your knees knock together, legs muscle shaking and barely holding up your weight. You've heard the term “getting your back blown out” before, but you don’t think you’ve ever experienced it so literally. Damn, you think your dancing for tonight is done.

Galvith gracefully pulls you upright, supporting your weight until you fully settle back on the balls of your feet. His chuckle is playful when your head rests against this broad chest, falling easily back into his arms.

“I think I agree with that sentiment, human, even though it’s ‘holy’.”

Your own laugh is weak, throat straining from the lack of water and all the moaning. Seriously, you feel like you just ran a marathon. Patting Galvith’s hand, you turn around in his grip, meeting him in a slower, softer kiss than before.

“Was it everything you imagined?” you whisper into his lips.

“And more.” His voice rolls down your body like a drug, has you giggling like a schoolgirl and meeting in another kiss.

Still reeling from your orgasm yet you can’t help but get lost in Galvith’s lips, curling your arms around his neck. Fuck dancing, this is how you want to spend the rest of your night.

Then Galvith’s phone goes off.

Long nails dig into your lower back, Galvith’s growl primal as he forces himself away from your lips.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” He curses as hastily pulls his pants back up, reaching for his phone in the back pocket, face curled into that angry expression the same as the first night. It's not a phone call this time but a text, the light shining on Galvith’s twisting face only getting angrier.

“Fucking idiots.” Galvith says the word like a curse, practically spitting with vitriol. Once again, you’re happy not to be the person on the side of this text message.

“Gotta go?” You say, almost ashamed of the clear disappointment in your voice.

You know you shouldn’t get attached, know that this kind of kismet rarely actually leads to something serious. That as much as you’ve been craving him, longing for him, the two of you have barely shared two nights with each other, and it shouldn’t hurt this much to see him go.

I don’t even know his real name.

It doesn’t stop the deep feeling in your gut, the palpable taste for more. Mind blowing sex, aside you really like Galvith. Even outside of your sexy fantasies and dreams about him, you also dreamed about getting to know him more. More on his hobbies, his day-to-day, this mysterious job that always seemed to be on his ass. Maybe it's foolish, but a part of you dreamed of this really going somewhere.

Galviths brow furrows even deeper, vein bulging in his forehead as his eyes scan the text.

“Yes.” he seethes, but you know it's not directed at you. It's sort of flattering, knowing he longs to stay with you as much as you do with him. “Some people cannot be left to their own devices. Satan below, I didn’t realize demons could be this incompetent.”

You chuckle; Even now he commits to the bit. Some may have found it dorky, maybe even cringe, but you find it charming. We all need some escape now and then, don’t we?

“I get it.” You say, trying to mask the wobble in your voice. “Some coworkers suck ass.”

“They probably couldn’t even do that correctly. Bumbling fools.” Galvith shakes his head, shoving his phone back in his pocket, redirecting a softer look towards you. It stirs the butterflies in your stomach, has you looking down before Galvith is tilting up your chin. This kiss is soft, almost angelic.

“I hate to leave you soon, human. Trust me, if it was up to my own desires, we’d spend the rest of the night in this closet.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” And you do, sadly enough. Life’s a bitch that way. “Before you go, could I get your number?” Your tongue flits out, wetting your bottom lip. This man just rocked your fucking world, and yet you feel shy asking for his digits. Damnit, you really are a nerd. “That way, whenever you’re free we could…meet up again.”

Just like that, the anger stirring up Galvith’s face is gone. It’s replaced by a wide smile, showing off those fangs he's oh so proud of.

Wow, the color even matches the rest of his teeth to T. He seriously has to let me know where he gets his prosthetics.

“That sounds perfect.”

In a quick move, Galvith flicks out a business card, as if he pulled it from thin air itself, slipping into the palm of your hand.

“Call or text me anytime, sweetling.” He brushes his thumb across your lip. “I’ll always make time for you.” You giggle like a teenager, feeling the hot blush on your cheeks. “Unfortunately, I must depart. Before those buffoons make a bigger mess of things.”

He unfortunately unwraps his arms forma around you, the lack of his body warmth reminding you just how little clothing you’re wearing. Oh god, and you’ll both be seen walking out of here, everyone knows what you’ll be doing. Embarrassment has a way of abiding and then snapping back at the worst times.

Galvith, with his way, pulls you out of your spiral with a final peck to your lips; A promise of more lingering in the chaste gesture.

“Till we meet again, my little incubus.”

With a snap of his fingers, Galvith disappears, nothing but a purple trail of smoke in his wake.

You stand there, shellshocked, eyes bulging and jaw nearly falling to the floor. Your befuddled gaze looks at the card in your hand, the only remnant of Galvith left, scrambling to make sense of what you just saw.

Galvith, The Torturer

666-257-6969

Oh my god. Did you just fuck an actual demon?!

#my writing #reader insert #monster x reader #monster romance #x reader #male reader insert #demon x reader #x male reader #male reader #male x male #monster fucker

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shhhsecretsideblog · 9 months ago

Text

Denial

Co-written with the gorgeously talented @gravid-transluna Thanks so much for picking up this RP starter, so happy we’re collaborating and writing fics. I’m having a blast! 💜 [fpreg, 7.7k words, birth denial, clothing birth, public birth]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex had a million and one things to do in the office before she went on maternity leave. The day was disappearing fast and she’d barely sat down; with back to back meetings, numerous phone calls, it was non-stop. It seemed her body wasn’t too keen on being pushed so hard this late in her pregnancy, if the constant braxton hicks were anything to go by, but she powered through assuring herself that she’d be resting soon. Just get through today.

The Exec waddles into the lift, heading to a meeting room a few floors below. The doors were just about to close before a young employee jumped in lightly after her. They stood in relative silence facing the exit, until the sudden screech of metal clanged all around them. The floor shook, jolting suddenly, and the lift was brought to an abrupt halt.

Alex’s curled hair swung around her face as she glanced at the tiny screen which usually displayed the floor level - it was now flashing a warning error image. “Eugh, is the lift broken?” Alex gruffed, annoyed.

“Looks like it.” The anxious looking subordinate replied, clearly worried and apprehensive at the thought of being trapped in here. “H-Have you got your phone with you?”

“Damn. No, it’s on my desk. You?” Alex asks, frustrated her pregnancy brain had struck again, making her forget something as fundamental as her phone. Seeing the other woman’s expression Alex quickly realised neither of them had a phone.

Thankfully the lights stayed on, but the metal box quickly started feeling too small. Another cramp rolls across Alex’s large, full-term, belly and she can’t help but grimace.

“Oof…mmmnghh….” A moan slipped out under her breath, she rubbed the side of her twinging bump as the other hand automatically reached to the wall of the elevator for stability. “Hooohooo… not now…” Alex whispered.

The other woman looked at her nervously.

Colleen had two fears: contained spaces and her boss, Alex. Unfortunately for her, she was trapped in with both of them today. Alex’s pregnant belly straining the buttons of her work blouse did nothing to diminish her fearsome personality; if anything motherhood had only made her more intimidating, still a commanding presence in a roomful of men even with a swollen, overdue baby belly hanging off her frame.

Worse, her boss seemed a little more than uncomfortable in this situation. She’d seen her bite receptionists’ heads off her a wrong coffee order, but still, seeing Alex wince and rub her belly, which seemed to have dropped even lower this week, she felt compelled to hesitantly ask, “Ma’am, is everything alright? I’m sure they’ll realize we’re in here eventually.”

Alex gave Colleen a quizzical look, but on seeing where her colleague's gaze was, she realised she was rubbing the right side of her large pregnant stomach. She stopped, letting her arm fall limp at her side.

“I’m fine,” Alex replied curtly. “I just don’t have time for this today.” She sighed and looked around the cramped space, what she was looking for she didn’t know, but there must be someway to get someone’s attention and get them out of there.

She knew she was cutting it fine; both by how late she was going on maternity leave but also with how much she was trying to cram in to her last day. Her feet were aching in her 3inch heels having been on her feet for most of the day, in meetings and presentations and walking around the office trying to make sure everyone in her team was well equipped to continue things during her absence. She was heading down to the third floor for her next meeting with the team leaders, that was if the lift hadn’t so inconveniently broken down.

“So you don’t have your phone on you or any method of communication at all?” Alex griped, asking her mousy employee yet again. Hoping the woman would miraculously have a way of contacting the security team or something.

The baby in her womb seemed just as uncomfortable as Alex in this small space, shifting and kicking harshly against her taught and stretched skin. His head was sitting so low in her pelvis it felt like her hips were being pulled apart. She’d be happy when this pregnancy was over, she was done playing host, she wanted her body back. Though she continued to dress in her staple pencil skirt, blouse and heels, pregnancy be damned.

Alex began to pace around the room, finding herself needing to move, shifting the aching from her hips. Another braxton hicks decided to add to her problems, she huffed under her breath and faced away from the doors into the corner, blowing out a silent exhale through the twisting pain.

Colleen could tell by the way that Alex’s gaze flicked over her that she probably only recognized her face by sight and not by name. She seemed impatient, which wasn’t unusual for such a busy, ambitious, work-minded woman, but there was something else in her impatience, an almost shifting restlessness that seemed to match the restless movements in her packed womb. The fabric of her blouse was almost see-through, stretched so thinly around her massive swell, and Colleen could observe visible ripples against the tight skin of her belly. She winced. Colleen wasn’t at an age where she had seriously considered children, but her respect for her boss had grown immensely, seeing her waddle around the office in her pencil skirt and blouse, seemingly as efficacious as ever.

Alex’s restlessness became even more pronounced when she turned away from Colleen, as though hiding her big belly and whatever was going on inside it.

“I don’t have my phone,” Colleen said helplessly, hoping it wouldn’t result in a chewing out. “I left it in my handbag on my chair.”

Alex let out a disgruntled sigh, half from annoyance at her staff’s serious lack of organisation - who goes anywhere without their phone anyway? - but also from the way in which this false contraction was starting to bite.

The practice pains had been a consistent thorn in her side all day and it was really starting to get on her nerves. She’d successfully managed to grin and bear it through this morning's presentation to the board but by lunchtime they were starting to take her breath away. Still, Alex carried on. There was just too much to do and not enough time. It was why she was working right up to her due date, not that she told the company that. They’d have forced her out weeks ago if they knew she’d technically passed her due day on Tuesday.

When the pains passed, Alex spun around and walked determinedly towards Colleen who appeared to brace herself for something. She always got a warped joy when they did that. Leaning past her employee, Alex began pressing buttons on the lift and found the emergency call button. “Let’s try this shall we.” Alex smirked at the hesitant Colleen. Unfortunately the emergency button did absolutely nothing at all.

“Umm,” Colleen scratched awkwardly at her neck, trying to disguise her growing panic. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped, but more so she knew as things continued to go wrong her boss’s mood would continue to sour, and didn’t want to remotely be in her vicinity when it did.

She tried not to look at the immense belly taking up most of her field of vision, though it was hard not to glance at it, especially when making eye contact with Alex was such a terrifying experience.

“We could shout for help?” Colleen suggested. “Maybe someone will hear us from whichever floor we’re on.”

“Eugh… if you want to shout then go ahead.” Alex dismissed, and continued back to her pacing around the small space.

They stayed in awkward silence, the only sounds were the clack-clack of Alex’s heels on the metal floor as she did loops around her section of the lift. She had one hand on her back, knuckles pushing into the base of her spine as it ached and spasmed. She’d managed to breathe her way through a few more of the annoying cramps but they were soon joined by a serious increase in pressure.

One particularly forceful twinge made her gasp and stop her pacing, one hand flying to the wall to lean against as the tightening got stronger and stronger and stronger. She couldn’t stop the low hum she made in her throat as the cramp continued its assault.

Colleen didn’t dare to open her mouth to shout, knowing she’d probably receive a dirty look and a complaint about a headache for her troubles. Instead she watched as her boss paced, again noting her restlessness and the hand bracing her curved, strained back as well as the hand constantly circling and resting on the broad shelf of her belly, as though to soothe the baby inside. This time, though, she noticed Alex’s walk, the way she waddled as though encumbered not only by the weight of her huge bump, but a pressure of sorts between her legs.

She more than suspected Braxton Hicks at this point, but her worst suspicions were confirmed when her boss finally leaned against the wall as though unable to support her own weight or trying to escape a deep pressure from her womb. She hummed, lowing as though she’d momentarily forgotten Colleen was there, absorbed with sensations from her pregnant body.

“Ma’am, are you okay?!” She stepped closer, hands spread like she didn’t know what to do with them. “You’re having a contraction, right. Oh god. Oh, this is so bad.”

Alex waved a hand away at the approaching colleague, keeping her at arm's length. “Don’t be ridiculous. Hoooo…. It’s nothing, it’s just a c-cramp that’s all… mnghhh…”

Her hand drifted lower and brushed along the underside of her stomach needing to try and find some way to ease the ache that was gnawing through her belly. She could feel her knees start to wobble and she breathed steadily, her weight supported by the wall, until it passed.

“See, it’s gone now. I’m fine.” Alex stated confidentially, her work facade firmly replaced. “Someone better get us out of here soon, I’m gonna bloody fire that security officer.” Alex muttered aloud.

She wanted to resume her pacing, her hips needed the constant movement, but her feet were far beyond protesting the high heels - they were downright screaming at her. Too exhausted to keep up every one of her professional fronts, Alex resigned herself to the comfort of bare feet and uncharacteristically kicked off her shoes.

Colleen nodded furiously at Alex’s dismissal of the pains. “Right! Of course, just a cramp. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”

The young employee didn’t know much about pregnancy and birth, but she’d seen enough media about it to know that Alex closely resembled that of a woman in labor: the characteristically low, dropped belly, the consistent cramps, the restlessness. But…. that’d be impossible, right? There was no way she’d had the misfortune to be trapped in a lift with her boss of all people, and especially not an Alex in labor. That was not an encounter Colleen particularly wanted to be around.

She reassured herself. Even if those cramps coursing through Alex’s obviously overdue belly were labor pains, labor could take days, right? They couldn’t be stuck in here for more than thirty minutes, someone would absolutely notice Alex’s absence if not Colleen’s. She was too important to the company. Then, Colleen could get back to her emails and Alex could be sped off to the hospital or wherever she preferred to drop that kid.

These hopes wavered when Alex kicked off her shoes, pacing in her stockings. Colleen’s eyes widened. This was a ridiculously unprofessional move for Alex, she knew that for sure.

Without her black patent heels Alex shifted anxiously on flat swollen feet around the confined space, gradually feeling the temperature rise and the air thicken. There was no circulation in the small box, no air conditioning or fresh air coming through any gaps or vents. She could feel sweat start to dampen the back of her neck, her curled hair sticking to the tacky skin. She ran her fingers through her hair, arms stretching up and belly sticking out, picking up the ringlets from the back of her head and lifting them off her neck allowing some air to cool her overheated skin.

The Exec huffed an exhausted sigh. “How long do you reckon we’ve been in here?” Alex asked breathlessly to her subordinate.

She had given up on pacing and resorted to standing at the back of the lift and next to the metal railing that ran across the width of the back wall. Her hips swayed side to side, she breathed slow and deep, and occasionally would place a subtle hand on the railing for support.

The persistent braxton hicks were grating, chipping away at her resolve. It was probably just the confinement and heat, being stuck inside this metal box, but it felt like the intensity of the cramps were getting worse. She caught herself moaning under her breath when they struck, she tried to swallow the noise but it was never quick enough to remain totally silent. She wasn’t in the mood to field questions or concern from Colleen so she had to get those moans under control. Unfortunately for Alex, when the next contraction appeared it came on so suddenly she didn’t have time to prepare. The pain lanced across her stomach and Alex doubled over gasping, hands flying out and gripping the railing tight, an unusual groan rumbled from her throat.

Having watched her superior endure what were undeniably contractions at this point, Colleen’s concern had only multiplied. If she hadn’t been certain when Alex kicked off her heels (swollen, aching feet weren’t exactly uncommon in pregnancy, right?) or when sweat began to bead on her forehead in contrast to her usual inclement coolness (well, it is hot in here with no air conditioner, and she must be dying carrying around all that belly in such cramped quarters), there was not a doubt in Colleen’s mind when Alex clutched at the railing and moaned, low in her throat. It sounded so unlike Alex’s clipped, sharp tone. Almost animalistic, like something natural, a sudden instinct to vocalise as her belly contracted.

“Er—ma’am?” Colleen kept her distance, eyeing Alex’s heaving swell. “Are the, um, cramps getting stronger? They seem—well, they seem like they’re closer together too. Almost like—”

She didn’t dare say the word. Alex, she knew, didn’t like contradictions to what she said.

Instead she answered her boss’s previous question. “It’s probably been, oh I don’t know, maybe an hour or so?”

At the other woman’s panicked questions Alex managed to grit through her teeth a dismissive “… I’m fine!… mnghhh!” Alex tried to straighten up, to preserve appearances, and found she couldn’t - not while her muscles were still seizing. Instead another groan slipped from her mouth before she could clamp it shut.

“I-I think- they might be more than just cramps…” Alex panted as the worse seemed to fade away. “I think these m-might be… hoooo practice labour pains.” The Exec admitted hesitantly to her employee, removing one hand from the railing to circle around the heavy weight of her hanging bump.

She had a reputation to maintain, appearances to uphold, and Alex didn’t want to show any kind of weakness to anyone with an employee ID card. But as the waves continued she was forced to admit to her one companion she was indeed suffering from Braxton Hicks contractions. But that was fine, Colleen was only one person and after today she would be going on maternity leave and wouldn’t have to see anyone for months.

But this baby better quit practising for the main event soon. The false pains were aggressive and forceful, the weight of the baby’s head pressing so hard against her pelvis it felt like it was about to drop out any second. She hoped by the time they were rescued the baby and her body would have settled down. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.

“They better get us out of here soon…” Alex breathed heavily and quietly. Then realising her company added “I’ve got a meeting at 4pm with the CEO.”

Colleen tried to keep her face neutral, even as her boss doubled over groaning, her belly tight around her middle. Alex’s thighs were wide in her pencil skirt and Colleen could tell by their restless shifting and the slight bending of Alex’s knees that she was feeling the urge to spread them even more, not quite a squat yet but unable to stand with any poise anymore. Inwardly, though, her thoughts were racing. Braxton Hicks weren’t powerful like this, were they? After all, if they had forced a woman like Alex into a panting dishevelled mess, they must be pretty strong.

‘Should I tell her it sounds like she’s having contractions?’ Colleen deliberated. By the minute, she could tell Alex was progressing into her labour. Even as she struggled to maintain her image her body was getting her ready for birth, and Colleen knew that even her boss’s willpower wouldn’t halt such a natural, primal process. Then again, if Alex wanted to be in denial, it wouldn’t make much of a difference. They still had to wait in this lift until rescuers showed up—Colleen might as well not lose her job on top of it.

Instead, she nodded again. “Yes, ma’am. Of course, practise pains. I’m sure they’ll subside before long. They’re supposed to be quite irregular.”

“Exactly… hoooo… I just need to ride them out. It’s fine. Hoooo…” Alex’s usually assertive voice sounded somewhat unsure. She didn’t like it.

Both hands returning to the railing, facing the wall, Alex found her weight shifting from hip to hip. Her stance was wide - when did that happen?- and her blouse was damp with sweat. The boss was grateful there was not a mirror in this lift, dreading to think what she looked like.

The false pains didn’t seem to be fading anymore, staying at a constant ache in her womb with agonising peaks shooting across her back and down her thighs. She prided herself on her ability to handle any challenge, but for the first time in her life she doubted her willpower to make it through. If this was practice labour she did not want to experience the real thing. Perhaps she should organise a c-section when she gets out of here.

The pressure in her pelvis was getting almost unbearable, and combined with the false contractions that continued to strike, she felt herself losing control of her autonomy. Her body was shifting and moving of its own accord and ghastly noises were coming from her mouth. Her hips were on fire, a weight pressing and splitting them apart. She bent over gripping the railing, flat back and hips shifting backwards. Her legs tried to stand further apart but were stopped by the tight fitting pencil skirt around her thighs. The groan that left her mouth was unrecognisable, like she was possessed. As the pressure built and built, she could feel an urgency sinking lower and lower. Before she knew it the sounds from her mouth had deepened, her heavy breathing ending with an animalistic grunt.

Colleen continued to observe as Alex made noises that she couldn’t even reconcile with the aloof, in-control Alex that she knew. Wide-eyed, she couldn’t stop staring as the laboring woman paced the tiny space. Her grunts, the way she hissed through her teeth, with every sound she appeared closer and closer to giving birth. Her waddle was pronounced, almost bowlegged as though there was a deep weight between her legs, forcing them apart and pulling her closer to a grounded position. ‘Holy shit,’ Colleen thought. ‘She’s about to drop her baby!’ She didn’t know a thing about midwifery or delivering a child. Much less delivering for a mother who refused to even admit she was in labor.

Colleen tried to track Alex’s contractions in her mind as they ramped up in both frequency and intensity, but found it hard without a watch or a way to tell time. Eventually she gave up, reassuring herself that the next stage of labor wasn’t yet upon them, and that unless Alex broke her waters the baby would remain inside her womb until they could call some paramedics. Still, she didn’t like the fact that Alex appeared to be losing her calm, composed self. Drenched in sweat, grunting and groaning through contractions, her body was obviously telling her it was time, and Colleen wondered if she’d even let her help if it came down to her pushing her kid out into her pantyhose or exposing her heavily pregnant self to a random colleague.

Alex’s grip on the railing tightened as she felt her legs start to tremble. Pressing her forehead against the cool metal wall, she released a shaky exhale. She couldn’t think… hell she could barely stand. Every part of her entire being was consumed and overwhelmed by the pressure and pain between her legs.

In some buried corner of her mind an instinct was telling her to get lower to the ground, to remove her skirt and tights, to open up her legs and hips. Alex fought against the idea, she’d already lost enough dignity trapped in this lift with some entry-level employee, she was not going to make it any worse. But when the next contraction struck, any fighting spirit she had seemed to evaporate.

“Ohhhh god!!!! Mnnnghhhh!” She groaned, long and deep, rocking herself forwards and backwards and clinging on to the only thing keeping her on two legs. “The pressure….. hoooooo…. There’s so much -mngh!- pressure!!! Mnngghhhhh!!!”

Her body sank back deep into her hips, knees dipping slightly in her tight pencil skirt and belly hanging to the ground, her backside swaying in the centre of the confined space. She could feel her muscles squeezing with the force of contraction, trying to do something. The baby dropped even lower and smashed through her cervix. She felt so full, the mass in her pelvis so heavy, and her body screamed at her to bear down.

“No…..” Alex cried aloud against nature's call. “No… don’t…” but her instincts took over and suddenly the mother-to-be was pushing.

“Ma’am!” Colleen cried, startled by such a stark display of utter abandonment from her boss. Her waters hadn’t yet broken. She couldn’t be pushing, could she?! Yet Alex was squat-standing and clutching the railing, the backs of her thighs trembling with an immense groaning effort. It sounded more forceful than just enduring the pains in her belly. It sounded as though Alex was actively doing something, putting in a hard, straining effort. Working with her body without a thought in her mind except birthing her baby. Between her spread thighs, Colleen could see the underside of her stomach, hanging low, uterus clenching her belly into a hard, tight ball. The way she bent her knees periodically, grunting uncontrollably each time… it was as though she was trying to force something low and heavy through her bottom. Everything about Alex seemed heavy, gravid.

She groaned again, and Colleen gasped, “Ma’am, are you pushing?! You can’t push, not yet!”

Tentatively, she placed her palm against Alex’s swaying lower back, curving with the weight of her belly. She began to rub and massage the tense muscles, not knowing what else she could do to help. The way Alex seemed consumed with birthing, Colleen didn’t think she even noticed her.

“Unnhhh- I’m not pushing! I’m not- ohhhhhhh- I’m not in labour damn it!!!” Alex’s staccato breaths carried her continued denial of what was happening to her body.

She gasped, breath holding in her lungs, and her body pushed again without instruction. Alex ignored the faint relief that was gained with the push, the satisfaction of the productive contraction, the moving of the baby as it neared its exit. But then the urgency faded, the contraction eventually dimmed, and Alex could think again. She had control again.

It was then she noticed the hands that were rubbing her lower back. Startled Alex abruptly stood upright and glared at the presumptuous woman beside her. “What on earth are you doing?” Alex sniped, waving an arm and shooing her away.

The nervous employee recoiled back and Alex shifted around the space again, both hands holding the large belly about to burst out the sweat-dampened blouse. “I am not in labour.” Alex repeated firmly, forcing the confidence as if willing it to be true. “I am not having this baby, and I don’t need your help.”

Colleen barely managed not to gape. Here Alex was, belly gleaming with sweat under her soaked blouse, contractions ramming her incessantly, curly hair damp and mussed in the heat of the lift. Her cheeks were splotchy and red with exertion and her chest was heaving, from the release of the contraction or from the force of her obvious pushing, Colleen couldn’t tell. All she did know was that her boss was actively bearing down, that much was clear. She would have thought anyone else was joking, but she didn’t think Alex had a sense of humor. She had to be in denial, Colleen concluded. To squat down and push like an animal like that, then brush off help like it was nothing—if nothing else, Alex certainly had willpower.

Of course, modesty and willpower goes out the window when you have a baby coming out of you, and from the noises and pushing grunts Alex had been making, it couldn’t be long now.

“I-I’m sorry,” Colleen stuttered. “Those…. practice cramps seemed so intense. You seemed like—well, like you were—“

Under Alex’s exhausted glare, Colleen faltered and trailed off.

“Uhh, I told you… I am not in labour- hoooo- I am fine!” Alex swallowed a moan before it slipped out her mouth. “When are they gonna bloody get us -mnnnnh!- outta here!” Standing by the lift doors Alex stared at the vertical line where the two sides of the sliding panels met, glaring at it willing them to open.

The weight of the baby’s head had started to press against her opening, Alex’s legs forced even wider apart with the sensitivity. Buried under layers of denial and facade, the unconscious sense of urgency had been joined by desperation and it was making its way to the surface.

Her fingers pulled at her blouse, freeing the thin satin from her skirt and letting it drape down from the significant curve of her belly. The pressure between her legs was beginning to return, Alex could feel it coming. Her arms lifted, hands palming the lift doors, and before she knew it she was banging on the metal to try and get the attention of someone outside this tin can.

The banging didn’t last long before Alex was stopped by the sheer force of the next contraction. Her fingers slowly slid down the lift door as her body crumpled in half over her tight, rock-solid belly. Double over she braced herself against the lift door, thighs widening and knees buckling in a semi-squat, and her body bore down with everything it had. Whether she wanted to or not every muscle was tense and squeezing, pushing the large round shape down down and out of her body. A rumbled grunt echoed from her lungs as she strained and pushed and contracted, and the heaviness between her legs started to burn.

Colleen was hyperventilating, barely able to register her own thoughts over the din of Alex’s furious pushing, grunts and groans erupting from her throat without pause or respite. The baby had to be coming soon, with how forcefully and urgently Alex was bearing down. Colleen’s mind swirled. As Alex pushed she took up the mantle of alerting any outsider to their situation, cupping her hands to her mouth and shouting over Alex’s uncontained moans.

“Help! Help us! We’re trapped in the lift and there’s a pregnant woman in here! She needs help, FAST!”

Alex’s voice rose to a deep bellow, trembling as though she was fighting an exhaustive battle against the baby inside her, bending her knees and opening her hips as wide as they could go in an attempt to drive it down and out. As her voice took on a higher, strained quality, Colleen began to suspect that something astonishing was taking place under her pencil skirt, that with all the pushing she’d been doing, the baby couldn’t possibly be very far from its only way out of her.

“Alex,” Colleen cried desperately. “What should I do?! I don’t know what to do!”

“You- mngh- don’t need to do anything cos mngh- I am not having this baby!” Alex grunted out, palms flat on the metal door, legs bent and wide beneath her skirt. “I am not in labour- hooo- I am not in labour…”

The exec panted the mantra over and over, fighting against her body’s urges to bear down. This baby was not being born in an elevator. She just had to breathe through the pains and she would be in the comfort and safety of a hospital soon, having a c-section damnit. That is what would be happening, not whatever the hell this woman was panicking about. Alex was in control, she always was in control, and the birth of her baby would be no different. She pushed herself off the doors and tried to move, to breathe through it, but the second she turned around her body doubled over and she gripped the railing to keep herself on two legs.

And then the burning got worse - the weight pressing lower, stretching apart her lips. The instinctual need to bear down was no longer a strong suggestion but a screaming demand. Alex was barely aware of her body’s actions anymore, she just wanted it all to stop. All she could do was gasp for air in between the bursts while her body forced the baby lower and lower - the head spreading her most intimate part around its giant surface. I will not have my baby here I will not have my baby here she chanted with every uncontrollable push.

Her thighs pulled the skirt as wide as it would go trying to make room, her whole body weight thrown forward as she leant over gripping the railing, arms locked and knees bent. But her hips weren’t wide enough, her body was too restricted by clothes, yet Alex was frozen to the spot as she grunted and roared with every wave. Soon the growling noise from deep in her throat turned into a pained whimper when the baby’s head pushed right through and fully crowned into her thong and stockings.

Colleen watched in horror as fluid suddenly spurted from between Alex’s thighs, soaking the floor of the elevator, filling the contained space with a musky, almost fertile scent. Alex shivered, lifting onto her toes as she gripped the railing. She looked as though her entire body was being pulled downward with the force of her descending baby. Her stockings were drenched—Colleen could scarcely believe the amount of fluid Alex’s body had let out, and it was still dripping and leaking from inside her skirt. She felt nauseous looking at the spreading puddle beneath Alex’s feet, and thought to herself, no doubt about it, there’s her waters. The release didn’t diminish Alex’s groaning efforts, though; if anything, the sudden breaking seemed to only renew her utter need to birth, nothing impeding or delaying its progress any more.

Except, of course—

Colleen gasped. “Ma’am—Alex—your skirt!”

Alex’s thighs trembled and quivered, spread so far that Colleen could see the hem of her skirt cutting into the flesh of her legs. She was trying to instinctively widen them, Colleen realized. She needed more space, even with them spread so far already, and Colleen could barely imagine the sheer size of the baby coming out of her boss. Then she didn’t have to imagine. As she watched, Alex’s skirt began to tent out slightly, tight against her backside as she doubled over, back flat. Whenever Alex grunted loudly, bending her legs and clutching the railing, the bulge in her skirt grew. That’s the head, Colleen thought, her own head spinning. My god, it’s enormous. It was a miracle they hadn’t been found yet from the noises Alex was making, letting loose guttural groans and roars that echoed in the enclosed space. Her entire face was twisted with effort, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut. All her strength was going into giving birth to her massive baby, but still, it didn’t seem to be enough, not with her skirt keeping her legs too narrow, her hips too closed. Alex’s skirt lifted and tented more and more, until it seemed to reach a peak. Alex’s voice slipped into a whimper and Colleen blinked, never having thought she’d hear Alex make such a vulnerable, sensitive sound. Then, Alex dropped into another hard push. The tent in the fabric stayed put.

“Your skirt,” Colleen said again, and hurriedly bent to pinch Alex’s skirt up. “Your skirt’s—“

From this angle she could finally see the crown, and drew in a breath. Her boss’s most intimate region was stretched and distended beyond recognition, lips taut around the huge head making its way out of her from behind her thong. The narrow strip of black fabric just contained the head’s huge circumference, cupping it tightly, barely allowing any more space for it to progress. Without room, Alex was stuck with a full crown between her legs, unable to push it out into her stockings.

With her boss barely able to speak anymore, Colleen made an executive decision. “I’m sorry, but we have to get this skirt off. Your baby’s coming, Alex. I can see the head! It’s coming out of you, and you need to let it, okay?! Come on, please listen to me.”

“No….unghhhh!” Alex mewled “I’m not having this baby… not here- ohhhhhhhh!”

The Exec had completely lost all semblance of control; doubled over, hanging onto the railing, legs wide and dipped as much as they could go. Alex couldn’t move. She hissed through her teeth, panting as her labia stretched thin, the baby sitting between her folds. But the baby couldn’t come now! It just can’t. She was at work for fucks sake! And worse, she was trapped in the lift. Real labour takes hours, days, there was no way she was pushing a baby out right now…

Her body argued against her thoughts as everything tightened and contracted once more. Gasping for air Alex tried to fight the muscles bearing down against the ridiculously large mass in her vagina, but panting through the pain didn’t do anything to stop the automatic pushing. Primal and animalistic noises left her mouth as her body pushed, her deep lowing reverberated off the walls.

Grunting at the end of each push, Alex tensed and strained, the instinct desperate to expel the child from her womb. But it wasn’t moving, slipping only the tiniest millimetre into her underwear. Heart racing Alex felt panicked - fighting hard against this birth and yet simultaneously trapped as the baby was stuck, held in by her tight stockings.

“Oh god!!!! Get it out- get it OUT!!!” She cried.

It was all too much; the burning, the fullness, the weight, the pressure. Alex collapsed under it all. She let go of the railing, legs shaking, and she clawed at the hem of her skirt trying to pull it higher, to give her hips more room. It was so tight, and her legs were so wide, her nails scraped across the surface of her stocking covered thighs as she gripped and pulled the black fabric of her skirt up towards her hips. But another wave crested and with it she was consumed by the need to bear down once more. Abandoning her skirt she held fast to the metal railing, her knees buckling trying to pull her down into a squat, but the pencil skirt creaked as the fabric stretched to its limits and she could only dip down slightly and push the baby against the strained clothing.

“I-it’s stuck!” Colleen stuttered. “The head is—” she raised her voice, tried to get through to Alex, but could barely even hear her own words over the almost-inhuman noises escaping from Alex’s throat as she fought desperately against the elastic of her thong, caught between the need to birth and the unyielding fabric of her stockings and the black fabric containing the massive head tightly in her vagina, shoving forward with powerful muscles as it wedged back inside her with just as much force.

She couldn’t open her legs any wider, Colleen saw. They shook violently as she threw back her head and let loose another deafening moan. From Alex’s furious face it was obvious that Colleen didn’t even register as a presence anymore, that the only thing in the world that Alex was thinking about in this moment was the head lodged between her tensed, opened lips.

Only when Alex started screaming that she needed it OUT, right now, was Colleen galvanised into action. She lowered from her crouch until she was kneeling between Alex’s legs. For a brief second, Colleen was in awe of the sight before her; the woman she’d known as a fearsome presence, a powerful executive, had been reduced to a groaning, sobbing mess, birthing into her skirt. Yet, this was her transformation into motherhood, and there was something powerful in that too.

“Alex,” Colleen said. “Alex, you have to stop pushing. I need to get your skirt down.”

She doubted Alex even heard her, but nonetheless she grappled with the clasp of Alex’s pencil skirt. The waistband was held taut by Alex’s widened legs as she tried to allow the baby to pass through, and Colleen was unable to undo the clasp.

“Shi-it,” she licked her teeth and then grabbed both ends of the waistband, pulling hard. The clasp tore off, and immediately the skirt loosened and sagged around Alex’s hips.

“Oohhhhhh… get-it-off-GET-IT-OFF!!” Alex yelled, feeling the tightness of the skirt loosen around her middle.

She had to push, she had to get this baby out now - location and present company be damned - the torturous stretching and excruciating pain had to stop. And Alex knew there was only way in which it would.

Her employee, whateverhernameis, was pulling the skirt over her widened hips and Alex squirmed and shifted with the fullness and desperation to bear down. When the skirt hit the floor Alex immediately stepped out of it and dropped down fully into a deep squat, roaring with the effort of another push. The woman was behind her, she thinks, but she barely notices… Alex’s arms stretch upwards, hands still gripping the railing, her body hanging off the support and almost swinging in her squat.

Her underwear and stockings were still covering her lower body but the freedom of being able to fully open her legs meant the baby could move further out. Alex pulled in a deep breath and bore down with everything she had. Silent in her efforts as all her focus went inward.

Part of her wanted to feel, to know how much of the baby was born and how much there was left to go, but she daren’t release her vice-like grip for fear of collapsing and losing her pushing position. She gasped, her throat scratched and raw, and clamped her teeth together and growled another push. The baby was coming, she could feel it slipping out and this time it wasn’t retreating. Harder and harder she leant into the push and finally the head popped out into her stockings. Alex sobbed with relief and collapsed back into her member of staff.

Colleen cried out in surprise as Alex fell back into her arms, leaning her entire body weight into them as though she had used up all of her strength, drained from pushing the huge head through her overstressed opening, and beneath her more fluid flooded the floor of the lift from the sudden release. Colleen gingerly caught her by the armpits, and Alex’s knees jackknifed apart, jutting upward as she lowered her bottom and hips beneath her, the head dangling between the apex of her thighs. She moaned, breathless, closing her eyes. Tear trails marked their way down her cheeks. Damp and shivering, with a baby hanging out of her, Alex was totally vulnerable to Colleen, hardly seeming to even notice her exposure or dependence on her.

Colleen couldn’t help but smile down at her superior as she swayed and panted in her arms. An hour ago, Colleen might have received a harsh glance for even brushing her fingers as she handed her a coffee. Now, she was holding her up while she prepared to push her baby into the world.

“Go on,” Colleen urged. “Feel the head. It’s out now. You’re almost there.”

“What? Hoooo… it-it’s out… the head?” Alex could barely catch her breath to form words, her full breasts heaving up and down on her belly as she gasped for air.

Somehow the mother-to-be was still upright in her squat but no longer holding the rail, somewhere in her mind she knew the other woman was quite literally holding her up to birth but Alex couldn’t bring herself to pay it any mind. Her only focus was her child emerging between her legs. With a trembling hand she placed a hand downwards and felt, through the sheer stockings, her baby’s head.

“Oh my god… hoooo… I’m having the baby…”

Through all the denial Alex’s brain struggled to compute what was happening. She had fought against it so fiercely, so vehemently, and yet very clearly beneath her fingertips was a baby’s head.

“My-my tights… I’m still wearing my tights?! Oh no… the baby…the tights are over his head… have to get them off!” Alex shifted awkwardly, unsteady in her movements but seemingly desperate to free her emerging child from the confines of her stockings.

“Hoooo…. Ohhhh no….” Alex suddenly whimpered. “Ohhhhhhh I n-need to p-push again…. No… need-tights-off…Don’t push… mnnghhhh…”

“Hold on,” Colleen muttered, working out the logistics of removing Alex’s stockings with her squatting and crowning a baby into them. She heard Alex’s hushed voice, articulating her primal urge to bear down once again.

“Just a moment,” Colleen said, crouching lower while supporting Alex’s labouring body, wrapping her thumbs around Alex’s waistline.

She was close enough to smell the subtle aroma of Alex’s deodorant and the natural odors of birth on her, and see the sweat beaded on her neck. She saw every one of Alex’s muscles tense, her tendons standing clear. Alex moaned, already in the forceful grips of another contraction. Her moan tightened and deepened, and Colleen had listened through enough of her contractions to know that she’d begun to push against her will.

“Alex! No pushing, just hold on a few more seconds,” Colleen said, frantically tugging the stockings down her waist and glutes. Unfortunately, Alex didn’t seem to have any more seconds in her.

“Ohhhh GOD,” she bellowed. “Oh, I’m PUSHINGGGG!” She bore down relentlessly, and Colleen saw the head give a surge against the tight fabric.

Colleen cursed again. Between the baby being squeezed into the stretching fabric and Alex’s parted thighs and widespread knees, there was no way Colleen could even slide the stockings past her crotch. Which meant she couldn’t access Alex’s underwear either. The tent grew and shoved down toward the floor impossibly as Alex sank into her push.

Hopefully, she won’t be too mad about this, Colleen thought, then she seized fistfuls of fabric and tore, ripping a seam large enough for the head. Then she looped her finger around the thong and quickly pulled it to the side.

‘Okay! Okay, I think it’s free!” Colleen announced.

“Ohhhh fuck!!!! It’s coming outtt!!!” Alex cried, gasping a desperate breath in between her body’s involuntary pushing and she felt the burning ring return.

A deep and gravelled roar rattled her throat as the shoulders stretched her sore and sensitive lips. Her baby… it was coming out… in the elevator at work! She couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Gripping her knees she fully leant into the contraction, using every bit of it as her hips sank towards the floor and her muscles pushed.

Suddenly she yelped and jolted in Colleen’s arms as one shoulder slipped free and Alex quickly and instinctively let go of her knees to put both hands between her spread thighs. The baby’s head and neck were in her uncertain hands and she grunted, low and long, desperately calling on every ounce of strength she had left to get the infant out.

With a roar-turned-wail Alex cried out as the baby slipped from her body and shot into her waiting hands.

Up. She had to bring him up, had to hold him. In a fraction of a heartbeat Alex had pulled the baby from between her legs and held the slippery newborn against her chest.

“Y-you’re h-here… oh baby… you’re here…” Alex sobbed, wiping the blood and fluids from his face. It was scrunched and red, eyes not yet open, his body curled up tight. Then his fists pushed against her breast, legs kicking and discovering new sensations, and the little bundle let out a high-pitch cry as he opened his eyes.

Colleen let Alex slip from her arms to the elevator floor, cupping her baby gently in her arms and murmuring softly. She rocked slightly, and even in the enclosed space it seemed to Colleen as though Alex was in her own world, far away from anyone or anything else. She backed away, allowing Alex her moment to meet the child she’d worked so hard to carry and birth. She didn’t think she’d be able to see Alex as she had before, the untouchable executive. Instead, she’d witnessed Alex’s most intimate, vulnerable moment, even helped her through it. She smiled to herself and Alex cooed, her face close to the baby at her breast.

The quiet peace of the lift was disrupted by a banging on the metal ceiling.

“Hey—! Is someone in here? And, is that a baby crying?!”

Colleen met eyes with Alex, and laughed weakly. “I don’t suppose this qualifies for a promotion, does it?”

#birth kink #birth denial #birth fic #clothing birth #inconvenient birth #birth rp #public birth #birth roleplay #birth fiction #my writing #we’re exactly the same when writing birth fics and I’m so obsessed with what we’re writing

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veryberryjelly · 1 year ago

Note

hey girl!!! I think ur still writing for jake from b99 (hopefully) so i was wondering if i could request him with a reader who's on her period and she's working, jake brings her home and comforts her (cause her cramps are rlly bad) <3

jake peralta x fem!reader

cw : reader is described as female, reader has truly bad cramps

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

as a woman, one of the necessities of life was making sure you could function during your period.

if you didn't have a way to cope, it was hard, or almost impossible to do day to day tasks such as going to work.

and you had your emergency kit in your desk drawer. heating pad, tampons, spare underwear, pads and some pills your doctor had prescribed to you when you explained how bad your cramps could get.

and while you would usually replenish your kit a few days before your period started, you hadn't expected the wave of cramps that overtook you as you sat at your desk.

"shit-" you muttered under your breath when you felt the first one.

you were quick to open your drawer and look for the familiar yellow bottle, only to find it empty.

your stomach dropped and another cramp rolled through your abdomen.

you couldn't do much about it now, only put on a heating pad, change your underwear and put on a pad.

so that's exactly what you did. you grabbed your necessary supplies and headed towards the bathroom, making an extra effort to walk straight instead of hunched over.

you felt a pair of eyes on you briefly but just ignored it, knowing your priority at the moment.

when you returned to your desk, heating pad in place over your abdomen, you felt a tiny bit better, but the cramps were still coming fierce and fast.

it must've been the crease in your brow that alerted jake of your discomfort because after a few moments you saw a figure sit down at the side of your desk.

you picked your eyes up to find his familiar brown eyes. a soft smile settled briefly on your lips.

" what's up ?" you questioned, dropping your pen down on your desk quietly as to not aggravate the headache you could feel forming.

" you doing okay ?" he questioned, his voice quiet and comforting.

you should've known jake would notice you acting off. he knew you too well not to notice.

" yeah, i'm fine-" you paused momentarily when you felt a stabbing pain in your lower back. " just cramps "

early on in your relationship jake had found out just how bad your cramps could be. after you had to cancel a date last minute saying you were unwell and he showed up to your apartment with takeout. you had just been honest with him and told him you got really bad cramps.

he wasn't rude or grossed out, he just asked how he could help and you ended the night curled on your couch with his arm draped over your stomach, his palm splayed out under your t-shirt on your abdomen.

since that night he had always been there when you needed him to be.

" v'you taken anything ?" he questioned, his voice still slightly hushed.

" haven't replenished my prescription "

a small hiss came from his lips as he took in the repercussions of you not having the thing that made these few days more bearable for you.

" d'you want me to go and refill it for you ?" his suggestion made your heart melt and you reached your hand over to squeeze his hand lightly.

" it's okay, i can wait a couple hours. can we go by the pharmacy on the way home, though ?" you asked to which he nodded immediately.

he gave your hand a small squeeze, giving you a comforting smile before he departed back to his own desk.

you thought you could wait until the end of the work day, but your cramps only worsened over the next hour.

you couldn't focus on your case reports over the stabbing pain through your body.

" c'mon i'm taking you home "

you lifted your head to find jake stood by your desk, his jacket on and his bag over his shoulder.

" jake, you don't have to do this. i'm fine, and we've both got st-"

" would you just let me do this for you? i talked to holt and he's giving you the afternoon off and i'm taking you home. " the way he said it left almost no room for discussion. he was taking you home and that was the end of it.

you didn't debate with him, just pulled your jacket over your shoulders and picked up your bag.

his hand slipped easily into yours as the two of you walked out of the precinct and down towards the parking lot.

the drive back to your apartment wasn't a long one, it felt a lot better after jake hopped out at the pharmacy and returned to the car with your prescription in his hand along with a bottle of water.

when you arrived home, jake told you to go and shower, change and get settled on the couch while he made some tea.

you were quick to go into your bedroom, grab one of jake's t-shirts and a pair of long pyjama pants and get take them into the bathroom.

your shower was quick but definitely made you feel a bit better. when you stepped out you changed into the clothes you had gotten out and walked out into the living room.

you found jake sat on the couch on his phone, a mug of tea on the coffee table beside a hot water bottle and one of your cosiest blankets on the couch.

nothing was said as you sat down and leant into jake's frame, his arms wrapping around you swiftly. he simply offered you the remote and made minimal comments when you put on a film you both enjoyed.

though as much as you enjoyed it, your head went limp against jake's chest within the first half an hour.

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kxsagi · 17 days ago

Note

ok i'm literally about to rip my head off instg. I'm asking because I LOVE your writing, but does anyone remember a ff with Kaiser with multiple trigger warnings (no NSFW) with reader who ran away from home and met him while she was rummaging through the garbage for food? That was the lore or something like that, ISTG I'M GOING INSANE BECAUSE I WAS STARTING TO LOVE IT AND IF SOMEONE CAN FIND IT I MIGHT MARRY THEM. Please let's help each other 🙏

“𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐮𝐩”

a/n: girl i’mma be so honest… i have no idea which fic this is and i’ve never read it 😭

but since you really wanna find it… and i like the plot idea… i figured i would write my own version

but if anyone finds the original, pls comment or message me their @ so i can tag them and credit them!

(art credits go to jinxx_yu on X)

tw: child neglect, poverty, homelessness, implied abuse, food insecurity, emotional distress

you’re ten when you meet him. and you haven’t eaten in two days.

it’s early morning, still foggy with dew, and the back alley behind the bakery is quiet, save for the soft rustle of your hands digging through the bin. you’re small enough to go unnoticed, quick enough to run if you’re not. but your legs feel heavy today. slow. your stomach cramps with every movement, and your fingers are shaking so bad you almost drop the stale muffin you find.

you’re about to shove it into your mouth when a voice says, “hey.”

you spin around, heart in your throat.

a boy stands there. not much older than you. probably your age, even. but taller. sharper. he’s not wearing a shirt, just black sweatpants a little too big for his slim figure. he doesn’t look scared. doesn’t look mean, either. just curious.

you narrow your eyes. “what do you want?”

he remains calm, hands resting in his pockets. “nothing. just… i come here, too.”

you blink. “to… dig?”

he shrugs. “sometimes they throw out the ones that are only a little old. if you get here early enough, they’re not soggy yet.”

you stare at him for a beat. and then you look down at the muffin in your hand.

“… you want half?” you offer, quiet.

he’s shocked. you’re too bright for someone living like this.

“you serious?”

you break the muffin in two, handing him the bigger half.

“you’re weird,” he says, taking it.

“so are you.”

the two of you sit on the curb, eating in silence. crumbs fall into your laps. he tells you his name is michael, but he says it with an accent (mee-kha-el) and then adds, “but i prefer kaiser.”

“why?” you ask.

he shrugs again. “just… sounds cooler.”

you snort. “okay, kaiser.”

he grins a little, and it makes your chest feel warm.

you learn a lot about him that morning. like how he hates the rain because of how fast it soaks his already-worn-out shoes. and how his dad makes everything he does a punishment. how sometimes he climbs on top of the bus stop just to feel above it all.

you tell him you ran away because home didn’t feel like home. you don’t give details in the moment. you don’t need to. he doesn’t ask.

“we’re kinda the same,” he says, picking at a loose thread on his waistband. “like… like nobody wanted us. so we had to want ourselves.”

you glance at him. it’s the first time anyone’s ever said something like that to you. something that feels true.

you nod. “yeah. we have to be our own people.”

he holds out a pinky. “so let’s promise.”

“promise what?”

“that we’ll find a way out. not just survive. like… really live. better than them. better than this.”

your throat burns. not from hunger this time.

you hook your pinky with his. “promise.”

𐙚

years later, you’re standing in the world’s loudest stadium. confetti rains gold. his name echoes across the world.

but michael kaiser only sees you.

you’re at the edge of the field, eyes glassy, mouth trembling with a smile. the same way you looked when you shared half a muffin with him behind a bakery all those years ago.

he doesn’t hesitate, he jumps the barrier, running straight into your arms.

“we made it,” he breathes, medal warm between your chests.

you nod, laughing through tears. “yeah. from trash bins to trophies.”

he kisses you like a promise kept.

and when he lifts the world cup over his head, he looks at the cameras, the crowds, the sky, but smiles only at you.

#blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #kaiser michael #michael kaiser #kaiser michael x reader #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser michael blue lock #michael kaiser blue lock #kaiser blue lock #my world cup

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joonjuul · 4 months ago

Text

workplace. pjm

pairing: ceo!jimin x assistant!reader

wc: 4.6k

warnings: dom!jimin, mean!jimin, virgin!reader, noncon, coercion, light fingering (f receiving), light blood, crying, desk sex, jimin is a complete asshole

a/n: this is barely edited so good luck (ps thank you for all the love on my last fic! reqs are open id love to write some stuff yall wanna read :3

╋━

you feel your fingers begin to cramp as you finish sending what feels like your 100th email of the day. staring at the computer screen as your eyes blur from sensitivity.

you can’t help the sigh that escapes your lips as you allow your face to fall into your hands. it was the busiest time of the year at your company, and you were struggling to keep up with all the side jobs your boss was giving you. it felt like every two seconds there was a new request in your inbox, only piling on top of the ones you still had yet to accomplish.

park jimin was hard on you, that was evident. you understood what you were getting into when you accepted the job, but you never could’ve prepared yourself for how hard on you he really was. everyone told you to decline his position offer, but you were in no place to pass up work, especially not with the salary he was giving you. but now you were starting to regret your choices.

just as you thought you were beginning to regain your composure, you hear that familiar notification sound, pulling you away from your thoughts.

1 new message in your inbox.

what could he possibly want now? haven’t you done enough already? the day had barely started and you felt like you were already exhausted enough to go home.

you couldn’t help the rage that filled you, almost like your efforts to him meant nothing. he never praised you nor complimented you for your hard work to him and the company, only coldly filled your inbox with new things to be completed. you had had enough of this torturous cycle.

you took a deep breath as you stood before the office door. although it was shut, you could still feel his presence through the walls. he was so intimidating, you couldn’t believe you were actually going to stand up to him, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. you were his assistant, not his bitch.

you felt the cold metal pang against your knuckles as you melodically knocked on the door, waiting for a signal to enter.

“yes?”

his voice sent a shiver down your spine. he didn’t sound happy, but then again, he never sounded happy. always so distant, locked up in his office like a hermit. he should try doing your job for a day.

you felt your hand turn the knob unconsciously as the door swung open gently. his presence now unmistakable as he sat proudly at his desk. he wasn’t cocky, or egotistical, he was almost… emotionless, like a robot that had no feelings for anything except the success of his latest business endeavor.

you stood before him, feeling the cold air of his office brush against your bare thighs, suddenly aware of how short your skirt was. you felt out of place standing before him, you probably hadn’t spoken to him directly since the interview that had you hired months prior.

“can i help you?” his voice rang again, your heart only beating faster. did he even know your name?

“sorry to bother you, sir. i was just hoping i could speak to you about something really fast.” all confidence that you had earlier was now gone seeing him sat before you. it was almost as if you weren’t a human being to him, just a pawn to ensure his work runs smoothly.

he signaled to the chair in front of his desk, allowing you to sit, his eyes never wavering from his computer screen. what was so important that he couldn’t have a conversation with you like a normal human?

nonetheless, you felt your feet carry you to the chair before him, carefully sitting down and quickly crossing your legs as not to expose too much of your upper thighs. not that he would notice anyway.

you sat in silence for a moment, waiting for him to make eye contact with you or start the conversation, but he never did.

you clear your throat gently, trying to gain the strength to speak.

“well, sir. i feel like sometimes with this job, i know that it’s the busiest time of the year, and that i’m supposed to complete any assignment you give me, but sometimes it feels although, not that you do it on purpose but-“

“spit it out.” his words are harsh, cutting you off, but his eyes still haven’t acknowledged your presence.

you clear your throat again, feeling slightly worse knowing he probably doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

“i’m just feeling very overwhelmed with the amount of work you’ve been giving me lately, sir.” you didn’t want to come off strong or demanding, but you’re starting to lose your patience.

you watch as his typing stops, his eyes finally looking up at you but now you wish they never had. his gaze is intense, and not in a way that’s professional, but in a way that’s hurtful. he looks… mean.

“is this job too much for you, y/n?” his voice is calm, emotionless as his eyes stay fixated on yours trying to gauge your reaction.

you shake your head no quickly, realizing the position you’ve just put yourself in. you couldn’t lose this job.

“n-no sir. not at all. i just feel like-“

“because i can easily find someone who can handle the workload this position requires.” he cuts you off again, leaning back in his chair to look at you intensely.

you gulp, not really knowing how to respond.

“i-i can assure you sir im more than capable-“

“are you? because it doesn’t seem like it.” he crossed his hands on his lap as he speaks. how can he be so cold? it’s not like you were asking him to stop giving you work. you just needed at least some more time in between assignments.

“i’m sorry, sir that was never my intention.” your gaze falls down to your lap, feeling so small, like nothing you say matters.

you hear him begin to move from his chair as he stands up and approaches you. his eyes watching you carefully, scanning from your face, to your collarbones, all the way down to your legs and back. he smirks slightly, the first time you think you’ve seen him display a tinge of emotion as he moves to where he’s standing behind you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“you’re a good employee, y/n”

you’re shocked at his words. “i-i am?”

you look up from your lap and turn your head to see him standing behind you, a small smile on his face as he nods his head reassuringly.

“absolutely. best assistant i’ve ever had.”

you feel your cheeks heat up. he’s never praised or complimented your work before. it almost feels like a major accomplishment in your career.

“well thank you, sir.” you smile up at him, but watch as his disappears. his face now just as cold as it was when you first walked in the door.

“is that what you wanted to hear? you wanted me to tell you you’re doing a good job?” he begins to move his position so he’s standing in front of you, leaning against the desk as he watches your face change in confusion.

“i mean, it’s nice to hear every once and a while.”

“well i’m not nice, y/n.” your ears begin to ring at his words, now becoming more and more anxious in his presence. why was he being like this?

“i’m sorry, sir i don’t understand-“

“you’re here to do a job, y/n. i give you assignments, and you complete them. is that too much for your little brain to handle?” his words are like knives as you feel your eyes begin to water slightly as his voice raises in volume. he wasn’t yelling, he was still calm, however obviously frustrated with you.

you sit in silence, your gaze returning to your lap as you feel too cowardly to even respond.

“nothing to say now, hmm?” he says again coldly, almost mocking your state. you continue to look in your lap, avoiding his intense stare at all costs.

you feel your heart drop as he reaches a hand out to your chin, gripping it slightly to look up at him.

“you want to please me, don’t you y/n?” his eyes are glaring at you, his words harsh and his face emotionless as he awaits for your response.

“y-yes sir.” you clench your thighs together at his words, afraid he might be able to see too much of you from the close proximity. he looks down at your legs, noticing the slight movement and smirks as his eyes return back to yours.

“now you can either please me, or i’ll find someone else that can.” his fingers begin to grip on your chin tighter, almost until it becomes painful.

you look up at him confused, not sure what he means. “i’m sorry sir, i’m not understanding.”

he releases his grip on your chin, rolling his eyes as he leans down, his hand now grazing your inner thigh. you feel your stomach drop as you realize now what he was implying. you had no intention of sleeping with park jimin, he was your boss, and as much as you could appreciate his attractiveness, you were a modest girl, and held your virginity very close to your heart. you promised yourself as a young girl that you would prioritize yourself and respect not only your body but your future husband.

“do you want to keep your job, y/n?” you feel goosebumps arise on your skin as his fingers begin to trail up higher and higher. you hate the way your body’s reacting, and internally scold yourself for being so sensitive to touch, having not received much of it in your life thus far.

you gain as much confidence as you possibly can as you look up at him, his eyes dark and taunting.

“i hope you’re not implying what i think you’re implying, sir.” your voice comes out shakier than you had anticipated, and you watch as your boss only chuckles lowly in response.

“i guess that depends on whether or not you want to keep your job, sweetheart.” he pulls his hand away from your thigh and returns to his original position behind his desk. sitting down cockily as he begins to pick up where he left off on his computer.

you’re shocked at his behavior. you never would’ve imagined that a man as professional as him would create such an uncomfortable work environment for a young girl like you just setting out on her career.

if you thought you had felt rage earlier, you were wrong. you sprung up from your seat and stormed behind his desk. “you can’t do this.”

he stops his typing and turns in his chair to face you, a sly grin plastered across his face.

“of course i can, sweetheart. i own the company.”

you feel defeated. how is it that you ended up in this position? all you wanted was a break from all the work he piles on top of you. you were only one person, and now he was treating you like you were nothing more than an office slut to be used by him whenever he felt like it. you were not about to let that slide.

“you don’t deserve to run a company if you’re going to do so by using fear.” you felt the words leave your mouth before you even had a chance to process them. watching as his sly grin turned into a cocky smile. he sat up in his chair just enough so he was able to reach out and wrap a hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

you feel your breath hitch in your throat at the sudden contact, and watch as his hand that was once around your waist slides down to the inside of your thigh once more.

“sweetheart, fear is how you get things done.” he looks up at you tauntingly as he brings his hand higher and higher up your thigh, only inches away from your most sacred area.

you feel your legs begin to tremble slightly, both in fear and sensitivity. you hate how your body was reacting to his touch, but you couldn’t help it. you didn’t want to have sex with him but after being celibate your whole life, your body had a mind of its own.

“stop touching me.” your voice is breathy and unstable, only spurring him on more.

he brings his hand up even higher between your legs, gently grazing against your clothed core. “should i? i mean it looks like you’re enjoying it. you don’t have to fake it, y/n, we both know you want this.” you freeze up as you feel his finger move towards the side of your underwear, pushing the seam to the side as he begins to push a finger towards your sopping hole.

you quickly snap yourself back to reality and push his hand away. you hated being pushed around, and you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

“i said stop.” you watch as the smile drops from his face completely, leaving behind something that’s not cold or emotionless like before, but mad.

you’re barely able to catch your breath before he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and bending you over his desk in one fell swoop.

your heart stops for a moment, realizing now what you’ve done. he wasn’t asking you for permission, he was telling you, and now he was going to take it whether you liked it or not. you feel your heart fall deeper into your stomach, your body doing anything it can to wriggle out of his hold but it’s no use. he has you pinned against his desk, and there’s no denying how much stronger he was than you.

you feel your eyes start to well up as he brings his hands up your skirt, quickly tearing off your underwear and ignoring your gentle pleas.

“i gave you a choice, y/n. you did this to yourself.” his words induce a panic in you that you’ve never felt before, his presence behind you scaring you in ways that will stay for the rest of your life. you try to use your hands to push him away from you, but without being able to see him, you’re quickly overpowered as he gathers your hands with one of his own.

you feel a tear start to fall down your cheek as he brings a hand up to your cunt, your slick only pooling up more at his earlier ministrations.

“look at you, y/n. and you mean to tell me you don’t want this?” his voice is calm and collected as he begins prodding at your untouched hole. you curse yourself for even entering his office in the first place. you should’ve known better. but all you could do now was accept your fate.

you bury your head into his desk as he enters a finger into your throbbing cunt, your body only reacting more at the new unfamiliar sensation. you had touched yourself before sure, but never like this, and never by someone else. you feel your stomach flutter as one finger turns into two, stretching you out more than you even thought was possible.

“god you’re a tight little thing. i knew you would be when i first saw you. i’ve been waiting to see you bent over my desk like this. feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers into your ear, and you can’t deny the tingling that you begin to feel in between your legs.

you don’t respond to him, and do everything you can to control the moans that are begging to fall from your mouth. you feel dirty, disgusting, everything you’ve held close to your heart is falling away, something you’ve been waiting for patiently is now being stolen from you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.

he notices your lack of response and slowly removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, your juices now spread down your thighs as he looks down at your fingers and sees a tinge of red between them.

“that time of the month, huh?” he questions, reaching over your head to retrieve a tissue from off his desk.

you lay there, emotionless, only able to muster up a slight shake of your head as you feel another tear roll down your cheek.

he quirks an eyebrow, noting your reaction.

“well you’re bleeding, y/n.” he continues to wipe his fingers, seeing the red tinge transfer from his skin to the blank canvas, now stained with your juices.

“i’m a virgin.” you say coldly, your body tired from fighting and simply laying still on his desk.

jimin stops in his tracks for a moment before throwing the tissue into the trash can next to the desk. his eyes tracing your figure almost as if he doesn’t believe you.

“a virgin, huh?” he mutters under his breath, releasing your hands from behind your back only to duck beneath you so he’s eye level with your soaking cunt. he watches as your hole tightens and closes occasionally, feeling his pants get tighter at the thought of defiling you on his desk right there and now.

he brings his head back up from beneath you, and brings his hands to your waist, stroking it gently as he watches you flinch under his touch.

“i’m not sure if i believe you, sweetheart.” his touch is gentle, only making your stomach flutter more, you curse yourself silently for being so easily pleased.

“you don’t have to believe me, it’s the truth.” jimin admires the sight before him, how wet you were for him and only him, your body crumpling under his hold, all the dirty disgusting things he could do to you before you realize that he’s the only one that could ever make you feel this way.

he feels a pang of sympathy. although he always gets what he wants, that doesn’t mean he has to deny you of what you want at the same time, and although you might deny it, he knows you want nothing more than to feel what it’s like to give yourself up to someone completely.

he quickly places his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him but keeping you laid on the desk.

standing between your legs, he brings his hand back down to the inside of your thigh, running it up your leg gently and watching as you shake harder. out of fear or sensitivity, he couldn’t tell, but he carefully brings a single finger back up to your dripping cunt, running it along your folds and watching as you wiggle your bottom half slightly in response, your skirt only hiking up further around your waist.

he smirks to himself, knowing that deep down you’re a corrupted dirty slut who wants to be treated like this.

he begins to circle your clit, his touch light and sweet as you bite your lip to keep quiet. how could something so wrong feel so right?

your breathing is heavy as you feel a knot form in your stomach, your hips swaying in turn with his fingers to create more friction, and jimin just watches as the girl who was so keen on being a virgin is slowly starting to come undone from his touch alone.

“see that wasn’t too hard now, was it?” his words are taunting, devilish, but you couldn’t deny how they made you feel, how he made you feel.

you want to tell him to shut up, you want to push him away, but every muscle in your body is begging for him to keep going, begging to defile you and use you.

he watches as you quickly become a needy mess. slick dripping down his fingers as you ride them greedily, signaling you were close. virgins got close so quickly. your face contorting and your bitten lip stifling your moans, you didn’t have to tell him that the knot in your stomach was close to releasing, he could see it written all over your body.

but not until he quickly removes his fingers from between your legs, watching as your legs begin to shake harder now, but still, you stay silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you were enjoying this.

“what? were you close, sweetheart?” he leans above you watching as the only response you can muster is a slight shake of the head, your cheeks burning up, hair sticking to your face.

“good. wouldn’t want to ruin the fun now would we?” his voice is so mean yet so sweet at the same time, as he brings his hands to his belt and begins to undo it slowly, watching as your eyes widen in nervousness.

you feel panicked, you knew it was going to happen eventually but like this? was it wrong that you wanted it? you watch carefully as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one fell swoop, his cock springing out between the two of you. he was so big.

how would he even fit? you heard it always hurts the first time but you never imagined a cock could look like that. your mind was racing with a million questions, and jimin ignored every last one of them, taking his position between you and aligning himself with your entrance.

“nervous?” he prods his cock at your hole gently, but doesn’t put it in, seemingly testing the waters as he looks up at you. if you didn’t know better you would’ve thought he looked concerned.

you shake your head no, still not able to formulate an audible response.

“good.” and with that final word he plunges into you deeply, giving you no time to adjust. you’re unable to contain the scream that leaves your throat as he bottoms out inside of you, your upper half flying forward towards him to seek any type of comfort, or even to find something to hold onto, but you’re only met with his hand on your chest pushing you back down on the desk.

he places a hand on your mouth, and uses his other to wrap your legs around his waist, leaning forward as he begins to thrust into you hard.

“shut up and take it, you did this to yourself.” his speed is unimaginable, you feel like you’re going to rip in half the pain is almost too much to bare. how could this be pleasurable for anyone? you feel a tear starting to roll down your cheek as he picks up the pace, his hand on your mouth being the only thing keeping you from screaming bloody murder.

jimin removes his hands from your leg and mouth and brings them down to your hips, pushing you down harder onto his cock as he begins rolling his hips into yours.

and then, something happens. you let out a moan. you feel it fall across your lips before you have time to stop yourself. something felt good. you look down between the two of you and watch as he rolls his hips into yours, his cock hitting something inside you deliciously with every single thrust.

“what? feel good all of a sudden?” he taunts, watching your confused expression as you try to figure out what it is your experiencing. what was this feeling? what was he hitting inside of you to make you feel like this? and all at the same time, you feel that knot building in your stomach again.

you let out a small moan, your hands reaching out to his hips to stabilize yourself, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

jimin quickly notices your response and grins, quickening his pace and bringing one hand down to circle your clit gently.

“feels good, doesn’t it sweetheart?” his voice is dripping with sex, the tension in your abdomen only getting worse with his words. he begins to fuck you harder in response, rolling his hips deeper and deeper.

you moan again, suddenly gaining some of your confidence back. “yes, fuck. it does.”

jimin grins at your response, continuing his ministrations on your tiny clit as he watches you become a writhing mess beneath him. but he can only keep himself in control for so long. every part of him wants to tear at your skin and pull your hair, but something in him is going easy on you.

you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release, moving your hips in response to his, matching his movements as best as you can, but you’re so close you barely know how to think.

“cum for me angel. show me how dirty you can be.” and with that, you’re seeing stars. it felt entirely different than when you did it yourself, something in you blacked out, you couldn’t hear or see, all you knew was that he felt better than you could’ve even imagined.

jimin watched as you creamed on his cock, your walls tightening around him and only spurring him on more, you were so tight now he could barely move, but he kept up his pace, maybe even harder than before as he watched you squirm under him.

“that’s right good girl.” the praises roll off his tongue as he glides a hand down your chest, watching your body shake and shiver under his touch. he could get used to seeing you like this.

you come down, feeling exhausted and warn out, watching as jimin’s pace quickens, his breathing harsh as grips onto your hips tighter, almost tight enough to leave bruises.

“fuck you feel so good.” he buries his head into your neck, biting and licking any piece of skin he can find as he feels himself getting closer to the edge. his hips never once stalling as he fucks you harder than he’s ever fucked anyone before.

you’ve never seen a man get like this, especially not jimin, he looked so human, so raw. his neck sticky, hair damp, face flushed and lips swollen from biting them. he looked… human.

you admire the sight before you as he takes one final plunge, filling you up with everything he has to offer. if you felt dirty before you weren’t prepared for the feeling of jimin pulling out of you, admiring his seed spill from your cunt, your walls throbbing from the overstimulation.

you both look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to say or what to do. all you knew now was that the workplace was going to be different.

jimin reaches over you to the tissues on the desk and begins cleaning you and himself up, the tension filling the room as you both awkwardly recover from your intense interaction.

it’s not until you stand up from his desk and lose your footing, forcing him to lean in and catch you, that you share a normal exchange for the first time all day.

“your legs are gonna be sore for a while.” he mutters, allowing you to stand on your own as you regain your composure.

“yeah among other things.” you say quietly, putting your underwear back on and fixing your skirt, you watch as jimin’s eyes dance once last time over your figure, before you clear your throats and find an excuse to get back to work.

“i should probably get going, i have a lot to get done.” you say quickly, fumbling towards the door.

“yeah.” jimin sits down again at his desk, now messy looking at the random patches of wetness scattered across his important documents and his computer almost falling off.

he looks up at you as you walk towards the door, legs still shaking slightly, and he grins to himself.

“y/n, i’ll give you a break with those assignments. take your lunch early today, okay?” his voice is gentle, making you turn around to face him before leaving the room completely.

“thanks.”

#jimin x reader #jimin au #bts jimin #bts smut #jimin smut #jimin scenarios

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httpsdana · 6 months ago

Note

hi! i really like your fics and i had a really bad day today so could you do the sappiest fluff about gavi or pedri.

basically i got my period today and i was having the worst cramps of my life so something along the lines of that maybe?

take care and thank you x

Sweet Relief~Pedri Gonzalez

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

The first rays of morning light peek through the curtains as Pedri stirs awake, glancing over to see his girlfriend curled up beside him, still fast asleep. He checks his phone and sees the date, realizing it’s around the time of the month when she usually get her period.

He remembers the last few times — how much pain she'd been in, how tired and miserable it made her feel. Determined to make today as easy as possible, he quietly slips out of bed, making sure not to wake her up, and heads out to the nearest store.

Once he arrives, he walks through the aisles, carefully picking out everything he knows she'll need: pads, pain relief medicine, her favorite chocolate, chips, and that comforting herbal tea she loved.

He even picks up a couple of fluffy blankets and an extra heating pad, just in case. With his arms full of supplies, he heads back home, feeling a surge of excitement at the thought of surprising her and making her feel better.

When he returns, she's still curled up under the blankets, her brows slightly furrowed as if she's in discomfort even while asleep. Pedri sets everything down quietly, arranging it all neatly on the bedside table, and then gently climbs back into bed beside her.

He brushes a few stray hairs from her face, his fingertips as light as a feather. He watches as she starts to wake up, and he’s there, right by her side when her eyes flutter open. The first thing she felt was that familiar ache, and she instantly knew — her period has arrived. She let out a groan, wrapping herself tighter in the blankets, which makes Pedri’s face soften with understanding.

“Good morning, princesa,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

y/n blinks at him, managing a small smile despite the cramps. “Morning… didn’t know you were up already.”

Pedri grins, scooting closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “I had a feeling you’d be needing a little extra help today,” he says, glancing meaningfully at the stash he’s gathered on the bedside table. “So, I got you all set up.”

Her eyes follow his gaze, and she's met with the sight of her favorite snacks, pain meds, a heating pad, and a neat stack of pads. She let out a breathless laugh, her heart swelling at his thoughtfulness. “Pedri, you did all this… just for me?”

“Of course, princesa,” he murmurs, his voice soft as he cups her cheek. “I know how bad it gets, and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. I’m here to take care of you, remember?”

She reached up to hold his hand on her cheek, leaning into his touch. “You’re too good to me, you know that?”

“Never,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to her forehead. “You deserve it.”

He sits up, grabbing the heating pad and carefully placing it over her stomach. She sighes in relief as the warmth begins to seep through, easing some of the ache. Pedri grins, pleased, then settles back beside her, slipping an arm around her so she can rest against his shoulder.

“Is there anything else you need, mi amor?” he asks softly, rubbing gentle circles on her back.

“Just you,” she murmured, snuggling into his side. “And maybe… a little bit of chocolate?”

He chuckles, reaching over to grab the chocolate he brought. Unwrapping it, he holds a piece to her lips, smiling as she took a bite. “Anything else, hermosa?”

y/n smiles, feeling herseld relax under his touch and attention. “No, this is perfect. thank you, baby.”

He leans down to press a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Always, princesa. I’m here to spoil you.”

At one point, y/n shifted uncomfortably, wincing as another wave of cramps hits. Pedri notices immediately, his hand finding hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. “More painkillers?” he asks softly.

She nodded, and he’s up in a heartbeat, bringing her water and the medicine. He watches her take it, then slides back onto the bed, pulling her into his lap and wrapping his arms around her. “Here, lay against me. I’ll hold you until it goes away.”

She lets herself settle into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his chest against her back. His arms wrapped around her protectively, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her arm. “You’re my angel, you know that?” she murmured, glancing up at him.

He blushed but smiled down at her, pressing his lips to her temple. “Only for you, mi vida.”

A little later, when he catches her staring at the pile of snacks with a tiny smile, he tilts his head, grinning. “What’s that look for?”

She shrugged, biting her lip. “I just… I’m so lucky to have you. No one’s ever done something like this for me before.”

Pedri’s grin softens, and he tilts her chin up so she's looking directly at him. “Well, get used to it, hermosa. Taking care of you is my favorite thing.” He leans down, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his hand gently stroking her cheek. “And if there’s anything else you need, you just tell me. I’m all yours today.”

She let out a sigh, sinking into his arms as he presses a series of gentle kisses along her forehead, cheeks, and nose, each one lighter than the last. “Pedri, you’re spoiling me,” she whispered, even though she's loving every second of it.

He chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her tighter. “That’s the point, amor. Besides, you deserve to be spoiled.”

The rest of the day continues with Pedri attending to every little thing. He helps her get cozy with extra blankets, adjusting the heating pad whenever she needed it, and even turning on her favorite movie for jer to relax. He laughs with her, making jokes, and he listens to her every whim, whether she needed more snacks, another glass of water, or just a long cuddle to take her mind off the cramps.

“Hey,” he murmurs at one point, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “How’s my princesa doing?”

She snuggled closer, letting out a soft hum. “A lot better with you here.” she smiled up at him, and he grinned ,pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Good, because I’m not going anywhere,” he says, then shifts so she's cradled against his chest, his arms wrapped snugly around her frame. He peppers her face with little kisses, making her giggle. “I’m on official period duty today. Whatever you need — I’m at your service.”

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, nuzzling into his neck. “Thank you for everything.”

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers back, rubbing her back softly. “You know I’d do anything to make you feel better.” His fingers trail up and down her spine, soothing her, as he held her close.

Later, when she started feeling sleepy, he wrapped her up in his arms, pulling the blanket around them both. “Close your eyes, princesa. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

She doze off with him holding her, and when she woke up, he’s still there, smiling down at her with that same warm look in his eyes. “Did you sleep okay, mi vida?” he asks, stroking her hair gently.

She nodded, feeling so safe and cared for. “I love you, Pedri.”

He beams, his face lighting up as he leans down to kiss her. “I love you too, hermosa. So, so much.”

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 9 months ago

Text

Interstate 40 | Tyler Owens x reader

Requested by anon / Summary: You go into labor.

A/N: Hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting. xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

! Warning: child birth, blood, pain !!

You were out at the barn, filling the chickens feed and water when Tyler stormed into the barn. You’re pretty sure you saw smoke coming out of his ears, his face red.

“What the hell are you doing?” He asks immediately taking the scoop from you, “you’re supposed to be resting! Doctor’s order!” His eyes are large as he stares at you.

You wave him off, “Tyler come on, I’ve been doing this the entire pregnancy. Nothing new to me.” You yank the scoop back from him, “I was going stir crazy laying in bed.”

You were 9 months pregnant, 39 weeks to be exact, ready to go into labor at any time. Your body was ready, but baby Owens had yet to say they were ready just yet. Your doctor had told you to take it easy after a fainting spell. Everything checked out, baby Owens was perfectly healthy and your doctor gave you the green light to head back home and get some rest.

Tyler had took this very seriously, making you stay in bed, and insisted on waiting on you hand and foot. He’d only left you alone for an hour to run into town to get groceries.

“What if something happened out here while I was gone? huh? What if you fainted and hit your head or something?”

You sigh, seeing his point, “I’m sorry.” You frown, “but Tyler, really I was going crazy. I needed to do something.”

“knit the baby a blanket. Something where you’re not on your feet.” He grabs your shoulders, leading you out the barn.

“Tyler-” you groan, “you know I don’t know how to knit!”

“Perfect time to learn then.”

As the two of you near the porch, you get a cramp in your stomach. It wasn’t too strong, but you noticed it. “ooh.” You clinch your eyes shut, placing a hand on your stomach, and bending over slightly.

“What? Oh god, is it time? See I told you-”

“Tyler, chill.” You take a deep breath, the pain easing. “I’m sure it’s just Braxton hicks. I’m fine. I’ve been having them every little while.”

“are they consistent?”

You shrug, “I honestly don’t know. I haven’t paid too much attention. That’s the first one that's been more intense.” You start up the stairs of the porch.

“You could be in labor.” Tyler says following you, “We probably need to head to the hospital.”

“I promise I am not. We’ll know for sure when it's time.” You sigh, taking a seat on the rocking chair.

“You’ll let me know if they get worse right? You know the nearest hospital is an hour away.” He warns. “You have to let me know in time. I am not delivering our baby on the side of the highway.”

“You told me they were Braxton hicks!” He argues. He’s currently speeding down the interstate, swerving in and out of traffic. People are honking left and right.

You let out a scream, hand gripping his shirt in one hand and the other on the grab handle.

Tyler screams with you, in full blown panic mode. You were still 45 minutes away from the nearest hospital. Your water had broke a little bit ago and soon after that the contractions began to get more and more intense, and closer in time. Your labor was progressing fast.

You’re doing your lamaze breathing, trying to stay calm, “I’ve never been in labor before, how was I supposed to know I was actually in labor?!”

You groan as another wave of a contraction hits, “Tyler something-” You reach down to feel, bringing your hand back up, fingers covered in blood. “S-Something is wrong.”

Tyler glances at your hand, his heart drops, face going pale. if something happens to you.. or the baby. He’d never forgive himself. He shouldn’t have left. He should have forced you to go to the hospital earlier. His foot goes heavy on the gas, engine revving loudly.

A new feeling shows itself, “I feel like I need to shit-” Your eyes are wide, staring at Tyler. “Tyler- oh fuck I’m about to have this baby on the side of the god damn interstate, aren’t I?”

“Don’t panic-” He knew enough from hearing stories to know what that meant. That was the key indicator baby was coming and it was coming NOW. “but yes.”

“oh my god!”

He’s immediately pulling the truck to the side, horns blaring as he cuts someone off. He comes to a skidding stop, jumping out of the truck. He’s throwing the door open on your side in a split second. Now it’s him who is calm. He’s rolling up his sleeves, pulling out his phone to call 911. He’s delivered a calf before. Same thing right?

“I am NOT having this baby in your truck!” Your panicked eyes find his calm ones, shaking your head. “I can wait until the hospital.”

“You have no choice.” He helps you slide out of your pants in the seat, simultaneously telling the 911 dispatcher what’s going on, your location and gathering supplies he needs. Where did this calm, collected Tyler come from? He was panicking only 30 seconds ago.

You scream, a searing pain felt down below.

Tyler peeks and sees a head full of hair, his eyes widen, “you definitely can’t wait. baby is coming now. push baby-”

It only took one push before Tyler caught the baby, laying her on your chest and drying her off with a towel. “it’s a girl!”

Emotions are running high. Tears are being shed. You’d just given birth, Tyler delivering your daughter. Your heart drops; she’s quiet on your chest, “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Come on baby girl-” He finally stimulates her enough and she lets out a loud cry. It triggers more tears from both you and Tyler. A sigh of relief.

Tyler’s kissing you through the tears, “You did so great baby.” A proud smile on his lips as he stares at his two girls. He cups your face in his hands, “That was fucking amazing.”

The EMS showed up not long after, checking over you and the baby. Both healthy. They get you on the stretcher, your baby girl wrapped in a blanket in your arms. As the emotions of your baby being earth side, the reality hits you. You gasp, “Tyler.” You cover your mouth in shock.

“Hmm?” He hums, looking up from your daughter.

“I just gave birth to our daughter in your truck on the side of the interstate.”

He chuckles, “Yeah you did. That was more bad ass than getting caught in the middle of a tornado.”

Don’t know how I feel about this one. I had a whole vision but writing it out proved to be difficult.

Comments, likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#tyler owens x reader #Tyler Owens x you #tyler owens imagine #Tyler Owens imagines #Tyler Owens fanfiction #tyler owens x fem!reader #tyler owens x female!reader #tyler owens x y/n #Tyler owens x reader insert #Tyler owens fanfics #Tyler owens fanfic #Tyler owens fic #Tyler owens fics #twisters fanfic #twisters fanfics #twisters fic #twisters fics #twisters imagines #twisters imagine

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ppnuggiexxx · 5 months ago

Text

-> period headcannons || whb

• characters :: paimon ,, morax ,, amy ,, barbatos

• contains :: fingering ,, paimon's blood fetish obviously ,, clitoral stimulation ,, mentions of both heavy & light periods ,, nasty stuff bc its period blood and im on my period writing this ,, somewhat switch paimon ,, sub amy ,, morax ,, and barbatos ,, afab reader ,, fem reader ,, oral sex ,, face riding ,, vaginal penetration ,, foaming at the mouth restraining myself from adding ronove and glasyal ,, sorry for the excessive word usage of clit ,, noose mention & usage (barbatos) ,, horns for leveraging (barbatos)

- paimon

| • the moment you complain about cramping paimon is all ears ,, after all when you first had your period in hell he was the most interested by it in gehenna

| • it was a bit selfish for him ,, but he couldnt contain his fantasies about period sex ,, how it wouldnt only fulfill his interests and kink but also help you with cramping

| • thus paimon is the first to offer to help ,, ready to assist in any way possible ! he doesnt mind all the blood that comes with ,, rather the opposite; hes quite excited and turned on

| • in the past ,, it was angel blood that he'd enjoy . killing angels wasnt anything new ,, but when their blood spattered onto him it just changed his whole motive

| • when his fingers first enter you ,, he doesn't know what to expect . if youre having a heavy period he'll definitely be surprised by how much comes out ,, though if its light he still enjoys what blood does show

| • paimon's quite traversed with the female body ,, not having to insert his fingers too far in to find your g-spot . massaging the area softly ,, he enjoys the moans pulled form you

| • with you on his lap ,, your back against his chest and legs spread he'll take advantage of the position

| • pressing kisses to your neck and whispering compliments to you ,, one hand occupied with fingering you and the other rubbing circles on your clit

| • if you dont feel up for fingering he'll gladly offer his mouth in replacement ,, taking his time as he eats you out

| • he doesnt mind how bloody his face becomes ,, pressing kisses to your thighs and painting both your bodies with blood

| • every time you get your period ,, hes over the moon and ecstatic about it ,, ready to help you if thats what you so wish . hes just a call away !

- amy

| • he's not too knowledgeable about periods ,, but he does freak out at first ,, thinking youre about to die on him and that was the last thing he needed

| • of course when you explain it all to him ,, he somewhat understands but is more concerned with the fact youre hurting because of it

| • he'll ask if theres anything he can do to take that pain away ,, and with the newfound knowledge of period sex ,, it ends up a little like this :

| • with amy on his back and arms wrapped around your waist ,, youre placed perfectly and ride his face ,, spewing degrading images into his head as he eats you out

| • he becomes more sloppy the more worked up he becomes ,, but after being given advice (he wont say from who) he does focus more on your clitoras after learning it stimulates you more and brings more pleasure

| • " i wonder how satan would think seeing you like this ?" you whispered ,, hand curling into his hair and the other hand on his horn ,, " knowing one of his trusted friend and subordinate is being used like nothing more than a sex toy ."

| • he gets riled up easily ,, and its so easy to put him in degrading situations such as this

| • only using him like hes nothing more ,, maybe sprinkling a little about how gehenna may view him in general should they know just how easily you use him

| • thats not to say you cant ride his dick either ,, keeping him down on his back so you can set the pace yourself ,, please yourself however fast or slow you wish

| • he'll whine and moan about you going slow ,, but youre the one in charge ultimately ,, and he'll follow any instructions given to him

| • rubbing his thumb lightly on your clit while you bounce on him ,, keeping his hands to himself if you ordered him to

| • amy is another person you could always go to if you ever need a little help during your period :) always offering a good time and allowing you to let any anger or frustration out

- morax

| • morax is already knowledgeable with this and knows that medicine isnt the only remedy for your pain

| • after work he will offer himself ,, wanting to take your pain away (alas he has no uterus to claim your cramps) ,, encouraging you to be rough if it helps with your pain and anger more

| • he'll give you a few small chocolates throughout the day (for cravings and as a natural aphrodisiac)

| • when youre both alone ,, whether it be in his room or yours (anywhere from prying eyes really) he'll be unclothed and ready for however you wish to go about it

| • whether its sitting on his face first or having him finger you he's willing to help anyway

| • thick fingers moving in and out of you ,, the other circling your clit as blood attaches to his skin ,, soft moans coming from you

| • his middle and pointer will curl into your g-spot ,, rubbing gently against your clit to pleasure you more

| • morax doesnt mind any mess that comes with this ,, only embracing it as its natural for your body

| • he'll slowly unwrap some of the bandages around his head ,, lowering his mouth to you and licking softly up your labia and towards your clit

| • hes one of the best to receive head from of all the devils ,, morax enjoys taking his time with you and ensuring nothing but pleasure and your safety above all

| • his bandages on his body will be more bloody but he doesnt care for it ,, he does change them often but at this moment he couldnt care for it at all

| • 10/10 cramp remover

- barbatos

| • oh no ! this will not do at all ! barbatos doesnt need his sunshine moping around the palace ,, in pain and miserable

| • he makes sure to take some private time away from work to help your needs ,, always happy to lend a hand to soothe your pain

| • the other devils would understand surely ! of course they would ! they all love you dearly and you being in pain is the last thing they want for you

| • and barbatos is just being a helpful and kind devil

today ,, offering to help take it all away from you <3

| • he has tea prepared ,, the softest blankets on his bed ,, he's even nude and ready to go for you too

| • barbatos wants you to be as comfortable for this as possible

| • he'll lick away any blood from you first ,, preparing you for whatever else you wish to do with him for the day

| • you can manhandle him however you wish ,, not minding a little bit of bruising here and there

| • maybe tugging on the noose around his neck to pull him closer to you ,, forcing his head to where you want him to focus on

| • or just pulling it to move him ontop of you ,, making him do the work for this time

| • using the noose as a warning ,, or to control the pace to your liking ,, or to just bring him in for a kiss

| • if the noose isnt to your liking you could always tighten it ,, or use your own hands around his neck ,, and even then his horns are at the perfect grabbing height

| • you could easily use them to bring his head down if the noose isnt working for you ,, or switch places with you on top and him on bottom

| • using his horns for leverage ,, to keep yourself atop of him ,, maybe one hand on his horn and the other around his neck or holding the noose

| • either way ,, barbatos is used to being in a rough position and is used to the pain (from leviathan’s choking and his rose ivy) so if anything all this just excites him more

| • though the aftercare will be insane <3 after all he wants the best for you ! he’ll wash you up ,, make you more tea and cuddle you to sleep

#whb #whb x reader #📼.whb #what in hell is bad #whb barbatos #barbatos x reader #whb paimon #paimon x reader #whb morax #morax x reader #whb amy #amy x reader #smut #whb smut

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devixncy · 4 months ago

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could you do a dae ho fic please? Like the reader was a barista he has a crush on but never had the courage to ask out previously to the games. And then once they get into the games he protects her and she reveals she always found him cute as well. Thanks :)

so, i may have gotten carried away while writing this one. pretty sure i typed out wayyy too many unnecessary details oops! (but i can't help it i'm sorry). anyways, i love dae-ho so so much like <3333 such a cutie

✧ pairing: kang dae-ho x fem!reader

✧ summary: dae-ho happened to be a regular at the cafe you worked at as a barista, and you had started to grow feelings for him over time. when you find yourself in the games, he ends up there as well and ultimately saves your life. fearing for your life and the fear of the unknown leads to late night confessions.

✧ content: typical squid game violence, mentions of death, i think that's it. literally just straight fluff

✧ word count: 4.8k

Your life was quiet, but you enjoyed it that way. Being a barista was the perfect job for you, it was relaxing and there was nothing you loved more than interacting with customers, especially the regulars. Unfortunately, while you loved your job, it wasn’t enough. You lived in a cramped apartment that was cozy, but your job just barely covered the rent. On top of that, you couldn’t cover your debt. You were swimming in debt, trying your hardest to help pay for your younger sister's medical bills. She was ill, and constant hospital trips and stays started building up fast. It was just the two of you, your parents having passed a few years prior. You would do anything for your sister, but having the loan sharks breathing down your neck constantly was beginning to drive you insane. You needed more money and fast.

Lost in thought, you absentmindedly drew shapes into the counter with your fingernail. The cafe was quite slow, but with the gloominess and light drizzle outside, it made sense. The bell above the door rang, signaling that someone had entered. Looking up, you immediately began to smile. One of your favorite regulars, Dae-ho, had stepped inside.

His eyes immediately met yours and he smiled at you, making your heart flutter. Dae-ho was the most kind, genuine soul you had ever met. He never failed to light up your day, even just by being in his presence. He truly was a gentleman, most likely thanks to growing up with four sisters.

“Just the usual?” You asked as he walked up to the counter.

“What, no ‘hello Dae-ho, how are you’?” He asked teasingly as you rolled your eyes.

“Hello Dae-ho, how are you?” You feigned annoyance, however you truly did want to know how he was doing. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t developed a crush on the man in front of you. He was incredibly sweet to you (and incredibly handsome), so how could you not fall for him?

“I’m great, (Y/N). And yes, I’ll take my usual.” The grin on his face was contagious, and you smiled, nodding as you began to make his order. He was a man of simple taste, ordering an Americano every time he came in. While you made it (and grabbed him a free pastry), you could hear him ask how you were doing.

“Oh, you know. Same shit different day. Just trying to get by,” You replied as you snapped the lid on his drink. Turning around, you slid it across the counter along with the bagged pastry. Dae-ho furrowed his brows at the sight of the pastry, looking at you questioningly. You shook your head before he could say anything. “Just take it, Dae. It’s on me.”

His cheeks turned a little pink at the sound of the nickname, but he nodded gratefully. He placed his money for the coffee in your hand, your skin tingling as his fingers brushed yours. You took the money and put it in the register, handing him back his change. Of course, he took his change and put it in your tip jar.

Before he picked up his items, he looked at you as you leaned on the counter. Your eyes were so full of life, the smile on your lips making his heart thud. But he could see the exhaustion in your face, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. Without thinking, he leaned over and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers brushed against your jaw gently. Eyes wide, you looked at him, cheeks starting to burn. He smiled softly, dropping his hand and picking up his coffee and pastry.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” He asked, even though he knew your work schedule like the back of his hand. You nodded, still dazed, as he chuckled and walked off with a small wave.

Once outside the shop, he cursed to himself. Oh, how he wishes he were bold enough to ask you out. Every time he thought he could do it, he backed out, fearing rejection. He didn’t want to mess up the friendship the two of you had. One day, he promised himself.

— Once you had closed up shop for the day, you locked the doors to the café and headed towards the subway.

You sat down on a bench, placing your bag directly next to you. While you waited, you stared at the ground in front of you as you absentmindedly picked at your cuticles. When you weren’t working and keeping yourself distracted, the stress started to take over.

Your body tensed as someone sat next to you. Turning your head, you saw a man dressed in a nice suit, a briefcase by his side. Sighing, you scooted away a little bit more. “Whatever you’re selling, I’m definitely not interested.”

“I’m not selling anything. In fact, I would like to let you in on a great opportunity. Would you like to play a game with me?”

You frowned, confusion evident on your face. A game? Seriously? Turning towards him, you studied him for a moment. Something about this man was off putting. As you were about to open your mouth to decline his offer, he opened up a briefcase. The words died on your tongue as you saw the stacks of money.

“I’m sure you’ve played ddakji before, yes?” He asked as he picked up the red and blue squares. You nodded slowly. “Play a few games with me. And each time you win, I’ll pay you a 100,000 won.”

You stared at the money as you pondered. You needed this. A couple games of ddakji couldn’t hurt, right?

And you played. You had won most of the rounds, earning a couple of slaps in the face when you didn’t. By the time the game was over, you had accumulated a decent amount of money. Of course, not nearly enough to cover what you needed it for. As you sat there counting the money, the salesman began to speak.

“You know, miss. There are more games like this where you can win even more.”

You paused, looking up at him. It sounded too good to be true. As you were going to decline, he began to list all of your personal information. He knew your name, your occupation, the amount of debt you had accumulated. Your mouth dropped, unable to get a word out. He smiled smugly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a card. He handed it to you, and you snatched it.

“We don’t have many spots left.”

Those words resonated with you as you sat in your apartment. Taking a deep breath, you called the number on the back of the card.

“Do you wish to participate in the game? If you wish to participate, please state your name and birthdate.”

Next thing you knew, you were standing on a street corner in the dark. You rocked back and forth on your heels anxiously as you waited. Soon enough, a car pulled up next to you, rolling down the window. A masked person donning a pink suit turned his head in your direction.

“Ms. (Full name)?”

You nodded, following up with the password they had given you over the phone. The back door slid open and you climbed in, noticing the other people in the seats who were seemingly asleep. You shook off the uneasiness, trying to get comfortable in the seat. Seconds later, steam began to fill the car, making you cough. And then the world went dark.

When you awoke, your brain felt fogged and you were incredibly groggy. You screwed your eyes shut as the overhead lights threatened to blind you. Classical music filled your ears, and you groaned as you sat up. Opening your eyes, you scanned your surroundings. Numerous people were getting out of their beds, all wearing the same green tracksuit with numbers plastered on the back. Quickly looking down, you saw that you wore the same thing. Then you noticed your number in bold white, 301. You got out of the bed, making your way down the stairs the same way everyone else was. As you were taking it all in, the doors at the front of the room underneath the screen opened. Multiple masked figures stepped out, walking forward. The one in the front began speaking.

“I would like to extend a hearty welcome to all of you. Everyone here will participate in six games over the course of six days. Those who win will receive a handsome cash prize.”

Players began to speak up. All made good points, and you agreed that you all being basically kidnapped and the masked guards were a little strange.

Then, you gasped as multiple players were shown on screen playing the game of ddakji, announcing their names and how much debt they were in. Thankfully, your name didn’t come up.

When it came time, you got in line and signed the consent form. You didn’t bother reading it, you were just here to play some games after all. You were sure it was just some dumb fine print that didn’t really mean anything.

Soon enough, yourself and all of the other players filed into a multi-colored room. There were stairs leading up, and as you looked around you noticed multiple guards stationed in different spots. Shaking off your unease, you stepped up to the photo booth and turned to face the camera. Upon hearing the ‘smile!’, you mustered up a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“The first game will begin momentarily. After having your picture taken, follow the staff’s instructions and proceed to the game site.”

You followed behind the other players up the stairs, coming up to a large door where everyone was filing into.

“Welcome to the first game. All players, please wait a moment on the field.”

You entered the large clearing in front of you, squinting as the sunlight hit your eyes. As your eyes adjusted, you looked around at the four large walls and the comically large doll with the tree directly ahead. There were two guards standing on either side of it.

Suddenly, the three large doors slammed shut behind you with a loud clank. You gasped and turned around, as did many others.

“The first game is Red Light, Green Light. Cross the finish line without getting caught in five minutes. If you do, you pass.”

Suddenly, someone pushed past you to get to the front of the group. He seemed frantic, turning towards everyone.

“Everyone!” he shouted, waving his arms in the air. He had your full attention now. “Everyone listen up, pay attention!”

“This is not just a game! If you lose the game, you die!”

Your breath caught in your throat. There’s no way he was serious, right? How could you possibly die playing a children’s game? Others seemed to think the same thing, as someone asked him what the hell he was talking about. “We’re going to die playing Red Light, Green Light?” someone asked with a scoff.

“Yes, that’s right! If they catch you moving, they will kill you! They will shoot you from somewhere! Stay on your toes. That doll’s eyes are motion detectors!”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd, no one seeming to take his word for it. Many were voicing their thoughts that this was just some ploy to get all of the money for himself.

“You have to believe me!” His voice was laced with desperation. As he finished his sentence, the doll began to whir to life, turning to face the tree. Its arm raised up, placed against the tree. The man, player 456, whirled around, panic evident in his movements.

“Do not be alarmed or panic! No matter what happens, do not panic and start running!”

Your heart began to hammer in your chest. Something in your gut told you to believe him. He seemed way too genuine to be making this all up.

“Let the game begin.”

The timer across the room flickered to life, displaying a red five minute timer.

Mugunghwa Kkoch-i Pieossseubnida

You began to move forward, freezing as the doll whirled back around and player 456 held up his hands. “Freeze!” He yelled out. Everyone stayed as still as a statue.

“Well done! You just need to stay calm like this!”

Once the doll turned again, you started to run forward, freezing again moments later. The doll's head turned, its eyes calculating everyone’s movement. Player 456 continued to yell out instructions, and so far everyone seemed to be listening despite calling him crazy.

Mugunghwa Kkoch-i Pieossseubnida

You began to run forward again, stopping dead in your tracks along with everyone else. This continued successfully for a couple of cycles. For a moment though, while you were all paused, someone began to scream. Yourself and many others side eyed the girl in shock.

“Crap. I just moved.” And with that, moments later, a gunshot rang out. Your eyes widened, unmoving, but terrified.

“NOBODY MOVE!! You must not move!” Player 456 shouted frantically, not wanting panic to ensue. Unfortunately, it was far too late for that. Multiple gunshots began to follow the first, people dropping around you left and right. Blood began to cover the field. It seemed non-stop. Your body began to tremble, feeling nauseous as the chaos unfolded around you. Player 456 was screaming at this point, trying to save everyone that he could.

“Let me repeat. You can move forward while the tagger shouts ‘Green light, red light’. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

After the announcement, the game resumed. This time, nobody dared to move from their spot. Once the green light was given again, the only person to move was player 456. And then again, he was the only one to move. Everybody was glued to their spot, too terrified to move. He began to shout instructions again, telling everyone to get behind someone bigger than you. That’s exactly what you did at the next cycle, getting behind players 120 and 124. You stayed close behind as they moved forward, trying to make sure your movement was minimal. This continued until you were almost at the finish line.

“LETS GO!” Player 456 screamed, everyone beginning to push forward as fast as they could. You did the exact same, until your foot slipped as you were trying to come to a stop. Fear coursed through your body as the ground got closer, the doll about to turn around. Everything was moving in slow motion. This was it, this was how you were going to die. Your eyes screwed shut, waiting for the impact from the ground and the bullet. Suddenly, though, you weren’t moving anymore. The back of your jacket was held tightly by somebody behind you, right as the doll said red light and turned. Your eyes flew open in shock, not daring to move a muscle. It was the longest moment of your entire life, praying whoever had their grip on your jacket didn’t lose it. As soon as the doll turned back around, whoever was behind you instantly pulled you back up. Your arm was grabbed and you were hastily pulled towards the red line, being shoved over it as the doll said red light. You stumbled and fell to your hands and knees, wheezing as you tried to catch your breath. Then you paused, whipping around to see who it was.

And there he was, standing mere inches from the finish line. You stared at him, mouth agape. Dae-ho was standing right in front of you, the number 388 plastered to his jacket. Your heart thudded in your chest, your ears ringing. You couldn’t even process it, that he was in this mess just like you were. Moments later, he crossed the line, running straight to you. He crouched down next to you, gripping your face in his hands like he was making sure you were real. Your lips parted, but words refused to come out. He had just saved your life and there you sat trembling like a leaf, not even able to muster a ‘thank you’. However, he didn’t say anything either. His eyes said it all. He was completely terrified.

“Dae-ho…” You whispered, your voice shaking. Before he could respond, everyone’s heads shot up towards the sky. A retractable roof was closing over the top of the arena, closing you all in like animals in a cage.

Before he could say anything, you were all being herded back to the main room. The guards gave you no time to process anything, forcing you to get moving. Dae-ho stayed right next to you, a gentle grip on your upper arm. The atmosphere entering back into the main room was dark, the obscene amount of death and bloodshed looming over everyone’s head like a dark cloud. You sat next to Dae-ho, silent as a mouse. Everyone was silent. What could possibly be said after what you had all just witnessed? Your gaze bore into the ground in front of you, knees tucked into your chest with your arms wrapped around them. Dae-ho was lost in thought, his side pressed up against yours. The touch kept you somewhat grounded, though just barely.

Suddenly, the bright overhead lights flickered to life and the door opened. Everyone's attention turned towards the guards that stepped into the room. Upon seeing them, everybody scrambled back further, clearly terrified. You were no exception, pushing yourself backwards up the stairs behind you. Dae-ho did the same, a protective grip around your body.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results from the first game.” The board above them began to change, the number 456 changing to 365.

More chaos began to ensue. People begging for their lives, the promise of a fair voting process. The voting process was anything but smooth, tensions beginning to rise between the players. You chose X with no hesitation. While you needed the money, you had to be there for your sister. You couldn’t help her, the only family she had left, if you were dead. Dae-ho had voted X as well, much to your relief. Unfortunately, your relief was short lived, as you lost the vote to leave by one. You were devastated, wanting nothing more than to curl up and cry. Showing weakness may not be the greatest idea, though. Not in a place like this.

Once it was meal time, you sat on the stairs with your tin of food in one hand and water bottle in the other. You had zero appetite. Dae-ho, who was sitting next to you, wasted no time in digging into his. You turned your head towards him and he paused.

“What?” He asked halfway through shoveling food into his mouth. You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head. “You need to eat something too, (Y/N). You can’t let yourself go hungry, gotta retain your strength. Here,” He said, scooping some of his onto his spoon and putting it up to your mouth. Your lips tightened into a thin line, silently refusing. He frowned. “I’m serious-”

“What are you even doing here, Dae-ho?” You cut him off, turning towards him a little more. He swallowed, frown still on his face.

“I could ask you the same thing.” His tone was completely serious now, setting his tin down next to him. You set yours down as well, refusing to meet his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re both in this mess, and now we both have to somehow make it out alive.” You hoped you didn’t come off as hopeless as you felt. Dae-ho decided not to press any further. He nodded in agreement. There was nothing the two of you could do about it now.

“We’re going to get out of here, you and I. Together. I swear to you,” He grabbed your hands in his, running his thumb across your knuckles. That was his typical positive attitude coming out. You sighed, finally meeting his eyes. “Now come on. I was serious before, you need to at least try to eat.” He said, his usual grin returning to his face. You couldn’t help it, your lips twitched up into a smile. If it were possible, his smile got even wider, gently pinching your cheek with his fingers. “Aha! There’s that smile that I know and love.”

You rolled your eyes, giving him a light shove. He laughed, and you gave in, picking up your tin. You ate in small bites, finally realizing how hungry you truly were. Dae-ho resumed eating, scarfing his down before you were even a third of the way done with yours. He patiently waited until you were finished with yours, taking your tin from you and setting it aside.

After meal time, you and Dae-ho had begun conversing with player 456 and player 399 who were nearby. As it turns out, player 399 whose name you found out to be Jung-bae, was a former marine just like Dae-ho. They saluted each other, their interactions causing you to giggle, letting some of the tension leave your body. Dae-ho’s eyes lit up at the sound, warmth spreading through his body. The rest of the night went as smoothly as it could save for the scuffle that occurred between players 230, 124, 333 and 001.

Then, it was time for lights out. Most players were fast asleep, but you laid in your bed, staring up at the glowing piggy bank. Alone with your thoughts, your mind was racing. There was no way you could sleep. Your head was pounding and you sighed as you turned onto your side. Lucky for you, Dae-ho’s bed was right next to yours. Realistically, he had claimed it as soon as he saw it was empty, assuming the person who was there previously was eliminated. From what you could tell, he was fast asleep. However you really needed some company and reassurance at the moment.

“Dae,” You whispered. He didn’t budge. Of course, you thought as you rolled your eyes. He would be a heavy sleeper. “Dae-ho!” You whisper-shouted, hoping you didn’t have to say it again. Thankfully, you saw him starting to stir. His eyes fluttered open, opening completely as he realized it was you who had awoken him. Quickly, he sat up.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” He whispered, concern gracing his features. You shook your head, starting to feel a little silly for waking him.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you up. You can go back to sleep.” You whispered back, realizing he was probably exhausted.

He shook his head, getting up from his bed and coming over to yours. He knelt down next to you, tucking your hair behind your ear. You felt pitiful.

“Will you lay with me?” Your voice came out as barely a whisper, but he heard you loud and clear. His heart skipped a beat, a soft smile spreading across his face.

“Of course, love. Scoot over.”

You blushed at the nickname but immediately moved over to make room for him. Without hesitation, he hopped into your bed, laying on his side so that he was facing you. He cupped your face gently, running his thumb over your cheekbone. You didn’t say anything, but he read you like a book. “What’s wrong?”

You could feel a lump forming at the back of your throat, and you stared into his eyes. Truth be told, you were so terrified. This was a fear you had never felt before in your life. If it wasn’t for the man next to you, you wouldn’t even be alive. How did you go from casually flirting with each other in the coffee shop, not a care in the world, to arriving at death’s door together? Tears burned at the back of your eyes, threatening to come to the surface.

“I’m scared, Dae-ho. I’m so scared,” Your voice cracked, tears spilling over your eyes slowly. Dae-ho was quick to wipe them away, his heart breaking. “I just wanted to save my sister. I thought that if I joined the games and won some money, I could take the stress off of both of us. I wouldn’t have to worry about the medical bills, or the loan sharks, or anything. I would be able to work without having the weight of the world on my shoulders, and it would just be us in the cafe, and nothing else would matter. You and my sister were the only things keeping me going, and now you and I are both here and one or both of us could die.” You cried quietly as Dae-ho looked at you sadly. He pulled you into his chest, shushing you as you wept into his shirt. He let you cry it out, not saying anything as he rubbed your back. Eventually, when you became silent, he pulled back so he could look at your face. Your eyes were red, cheeks tear streaked.

“(Y/N), listen to me. As long as we’re in here together, I won’t let anything happen to you. Truly, you’re the light of my life and if something happened to you I don’t think I could forgive myself. You’re my anchor, especially in a place like this. I have something here to keep me going, you know?” He murmured. You sniffled and nodded, but he kept going. “The moment I saw you in that cafe I knew I was in trouble. I thought you were the most perfect thing to grace this earth, and if I wasn’t so stupid, I would’ve asked you out a long time ago.”

Your eyes widened at that, looking at him as he smiled at you. “You really mean that?” Your pulse quickened at the confession.

“Every word,” He chuckled as he drew shapes into the fabric of your jacket. “This is gonna be awkward for me if you don’t feel the same.” At that, you gave him a light shove and he laughed.

“Of course I feel the same, you idiot. Why do you think you were getting so many free pastries?” You joked, then became serious. “Seriously though, Dae-ho. I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it. I wish you would’ve asked me out a long time ago, I’ve had a giant crush on you for a while now. I thought it was obvious.”

“It was obvious,” you rolled your eyes at that. “I was just too scared to do something about it. I didn’t wanna mess anything up between us. And now here we are, in the worst possible situation, and I’m finally confessing this to you.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes as he thought about the circumstances. “How about when we get out of here, I take you out on a date, yeah? We’ll go somewhere nice with my share of the money.”

“It doesn’t have to be fancy, Dae-ho. As long as I’m with you it doesn’t matter,” You said sincerely, a small smile gracing your lips. “But I would love to.”

He grinned at that, his entire face lighting up. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You grabbed one of his hands and he gave it a gentle squeeze. To his surprise, you craned your neck up and placed your lips directly onto his. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you could feel him smile against your lips as he moved his free hand to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pulled away after a few moments, before leaning back down and placing another quick peck to your lips.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that.” He teased, excitement present in his voice. You giggled, feeling over the moon with happiness even if it was just for a moment. Dae-ho shifted to lay flat on his back, pulling you with him. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He had his arm around you and you threw your leg over the top of his, making yourself comfortable

“Thank you for saving my life earlier.” You spoke quietly as you wrapped your arm around him, soothed by the rise and fall of his chest. He was quiet for a moment.

“I would do it all over again. I’m not leaving your side so long as we’re still playing these games.”

Those were the only words you needed to hear, shutting your eyes as you finally drifted off into a peaceful slumber as you could feel him pull the blanket over the two of you. For the first time in a while, your body felt at ease. You felt safe, like there was nothing in the world that could harm you. Even if it was just for the night.

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #kang dae ho #kang dae ho x reader #dae ho x reader #player 388 #player 388 x reader

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01zfan · 2 months ago

Text

supermarché

imaginary friend!sohee x ghost!reader | 8.2k words

i think my wonderful anon put this idea in my head. i ended up taking it a step further to kind of add another layer to this story. really sad but also really heartwarming to write. i definitely consider this to be a halloween fic. also i listened to the supermarché by king krule while writing this.

contains: reader dies at her place of work, sohee is anton's imaginary friend, talking about death and the afterlife, sex without a condom (imaginary friends and ghosts can't make babies. living human people can. you are not them so please have sex responsibly), semi-public shenanigans

You still don’t remember how you died. You imagine it was related to the overstock kept above the top shelves and your terrible habit of using the most dangerous method to get to things that were out of your reach.

But you could only guess. All you knew was that you were balancing on the cart used to hold items. You kept your balance the same way you always did, and waited for the aisle to empty just like you always did. Customers always stared you down and your coworkers always nagged you, but you knew how to do it. You just had to balance, feeling for the unstable wheels at the bottom of the cart and trying not to knock over the canned goods. You were balancing well, one minute you were looking at your outstretched hand reaching for the Goya Frijoles Negros and the next you heard the cans fall when the cart make a sudden left.

The next minute you woke up on the ground, eyes opening wide and fast. When your body shot upwards and you pulled in a deep breath everything was blurry, then there was a pounding at the base of your skull and a terrible cramp in your arm.

Even through the fog in your brain your hand instinctually went to the back of your head to rub out the pain. There was fear coursing through your veins, throbbing in the back of your skull, and the feeling of falling. Then there was nothing. You felt the absence of everything at once, feeling for something in the back of your head that no longer existed. The physical and mental feelings were gone so quickly you felt yourself run cold.

From your spot on the floor you noticed there was an absence of people too. There was no one around you, the empty dark aisle of the canned food section was the only thing surrounding you. You didn’t hear your team lead on the walkie or the sound of your coworkers shuffling around looking for product. No sound of the cash registers opening, or a customer asking for a price check. There was only the cold linoleum floors you, and the dented cans surrounding your body. Canned beans and corn made a scattered outline around your your body like a crime scene.

After that, it took you awhile to piece everything together. You wondered if your coworkers were playing a trick on your at first, or if you were having another nightmare of being at trapped work. You yelled out to somebody, anybody in the store just to be met with low volume of the music that perpetually played on the speakers. You pinched yourself, that usually worked. When you were still in the dark aisle you noticed that the song changed and the vegetable misters started spraying the fresh produce behind you.

You started stumbling through the maze of aisles, trying to remember the area surrounding you. You spent a majority of your waking days in this supermarket, you knew the different sections like the back of your hand. But suddenly, you couldn’t discern between your left or your right. You passed by the meat and fish section, you couldn’t find the exit even if it looked like it was right in front of you, and the time of day was so ambiguous you didn’t know if it was starting to get light or if it was beginning to get dark.

The more you wandered the more a disoriented haze settled over your mind and your limbs. The more you screamed out for someone the more quiet everything else became, the more you walked the more sluggish you felt. The rights and lefts you were taking through the aisles made bile rise in your stomach, and the sinking feeling that something was wrong made your heart drop. You yelled out that whatever your coworkers were doing to you wasn’t funny. You yelled it again when you were only answered with the a still dark building and the sound of machines whirring.

You swore you walked past the lighting encasement of the deli meats a million times. You saw the same brand of toilet paper over and over again despite only taking three lefts.

Everything was spinning now. One foot in front of the other. Asking the empty grocery store for help. Feeling that weird spot at the base of your skull. Your feet were beginning to drag, squeaking on the gray and white linoleum floor as you followed the sound of someone’s voice. Not towards the bright lights of the dairy section, but the sound of someone yelling on the phone. Your tired feet took you there, and the hand that was rubbing the spot on your head reached to your temple instead. You bumped into product hanging off the sides of the shelves. You were too preoccupied to do anything besides sticking out an apologetic hand behind you as you continued walking in the dark.

"I'll fix it later."

You said to yourself. You spoke loud enough like you were telling a coworker. You were always adamant about no one else cleaning up your messes. When you looked behind you to round the corner everything was still perfectly in place. You swore you heard something fall, but following the voice on the phone was more important.

When you rounded the corner you finally found the back of house. You leaned against the wall before leaning against the double swinging doors, opening up the chilled area and the concrete flooring. Shipments came through here, you knew that. Even if you couldn't find the high-lift garage door you knew that every Tuesday in the early morning there was a big white semi-trailer truck that came by and dropped off produce. This was where the managers office was, this is where you heard the sound of someone's voice. You continued to drag your feet against the concrete, heading towards the yellow light of your managers office. He always worked late. He always knew what to do.

By the time you made it to the managers office, you felt a tug that something was incredibly wrong. With a grip on the handle you tried opening it, groaning at the sudden lack of power in your body. Today wasn’t shipment day, but your manager leaned over the table as if he was doing the count for product. You felt weak as you pressed the side of your face against the glass, breathing heavy as you tried to remember why you were here so late. You remembered you had to go home and rest for your next shift as you brought a shaky hand to knock on the glass.

The turned back of your manager didn’t move to face you. He stayed there on the phone, head in his hands as he rubbed his temple. Your head started to feel like it was throbbing again as you massaged your temples the same way. Even when you knocked harder with your other hand he still didn’t budge.

Nobody could blame you for not knowing you were dead. There was no one on the intercom saying dead employee on aisle three, there were no nervous coworkers or nosy customers looking at your body. No one was there to scream that you were not breathing and that you hit your head in a shrill voice. All that was left that showed evidence of people were abandoned shopping carts in the aisle that you woke up in. Nothing sank in until your manager turned around to face you. He didn’t see your hand pressed against the glass, but he focused on the fog your panicked breaths were leaving in their wake.

You watched your manager walk closer and closer to the glass of the door, not looking at your face or into your eyes like he always did. He looked at the fog, like he was trying to figure out what it was. Both of your eyes cut to the tiny patch at the same time, and when you experimentally banged on the glass with all of your might, his eyes still did not move. His furrowed eyebrows only focused on the dissipating fog, and then he pulled away quickly when the low hum of someone on the phone brought his attention back to his desk.

After that, realization came relatively fast. Your inability to find the exit of the grocery store you knew the ins and outs of left you underneath the sterile lighting and the mist of the produce section. Still, there was a part of you that held out. Maybe your manager was really just ignoring you, maybe you were just having another realistic nightmare about work. You slept on the black mats in front of the misters, underneath the lights as you tried to wake yourself up from your terrible nightmare.

The next morning you woke up to your whispering coworkers. If it wasn't the fact that you weren't cold or dry despite sleeping under the misters, hearing your coworkers hushed retellings of the day before cleared everything up. You listened silently like you could've been heard as they talked about how immoral it was for them to work when you died the previous day.

Sohee had been with Anton his whole life. He wasn’t born the same way Anton was. Instead he materialized out of thin air, the manifestations of a lonely child coming to fruition. All Sohee knew was that he was bound to Anton, someone walking beside him that only he could see. Anton’s parents knew Sohee’s name as Ddori, with tight lipped smiles and nods of confusion as their son described a child who was not on the roster of his class. The kids on the playground found out who Anton was talking to as he played with the action figures in the sandbox by himself.

For a long time it was perfect. Sohee had fun with Anton, he liked playing games with him and being his friend. The child psychologist said that Anton would eventually grow out of needing him, that eventually Anton would make friends and Sohee would just become a distant memory. He remembers Anton looking over to where he sat in the corner to whisper that was not true, while his parents looked behind them to see who their son was talking to. Sohee nodded to Anton then, but he was made to be a realist. He lived each day with Anton it like it was his last.

He thought one day he would just turn into dust, or fade into oblivion when Anton didn’t need his imaginary friend anymore. But even when he stopped looking over his shoulder to find Sohee and he started making friends his age, Sohee never ceased to exist. Each day when Anton would wake up so would he. Even when Anton made real human friends and stopped playing by himself and stopped acknowledging Sohee all together he still was just there. He followed Anton like a shadow now, only feeling like his presence was known when Anton was especially scared or nervous.

When Anton got a job as a late night stocker in a grocery store Sohee’s words started getting through to him. He was meant to be there for Anton in the middle of the night, as a shoulder to lean on or someone to think about when he got spooked by the urban legend of the place. Sohee’s job made him the voice of reason, wandering around the place without a care in the world as Anton turned cans to be front facing.

“No one actually died here, Anton.” Sohee said aloud.

Anton nodded with music from his earbuds blasting in his ear. He stopped outwardly reacting to Sohee’s words a long time ago. Too many times was Anton accused of talking to himself. One day Sohee became his voice of reason rather than his imaginary friend. When Anton was properly comforted Sohee started walked in a circle in the aisle, trying to find a way to entertain himself for the next five hours. He could read the nutritional facts of the items Anton didn't turn around yet. That might kill him some time.

“Someone actually did die here.”

Sohee turns towards the voice at the end of the aisle. He looks to Anton fast, who turned up his music to the max volume until it bled out of his earbuds. Sohee stepped out, one slow foot in front of the other. The sound of his tennis shoes on the linoleum floor is the only source of sound. Then he sees you, laying on your back on top of the deli meat display case. He looks at you, half expecting you to be another late night worker neglecting your duties. But then you turn from the ceiling slowly to look directly at Sohee. He freezes. You stop swinging your feet. When you realize Sohee is really looking at you, you slowly get up. When Sohee realizes you're really looking at him he stands up straighter.

“You can see me?” Sohee asks first.

You nod. Sohee doesn't remember the last time he's seen someone react to his words. He doesn't remember the last time he asked a question.

“You can see me?” You ask second.

You sit up on the display case, legs dangling as your eyes get even wider. Sohee has never been seen before. He hasn’t had a conversation with a non-Anton person his whole life. You’re just as stricken, blinking at Sohee like you just can’t believe it.

“Can he see you?” He asked.

Sohee points towards the sounds Anton makes in his aisle.

“Not unless he gets really scared. In the beginning,” You stutter. “people used to say there was someone haunting this place. So late at night sometimes they’d see me a little bit or hear me.”

Sohee tries to figure out when in the beginning means, because the apron folded next to you looks different from the one Anton wears now. He thinks you look familiar, like he saw your picture hanging up somewhere or seeing your photo online when Anton was doing research about this place. Sohee is still silent, and you look down while gripping the sides of the deli meat casing with your hands. You try to think of something else to say and Sohee watches you kick your feet.

“They used to get so scared. Someone even quit in the middle of their shift once, you know.” You say.

Your feet start kicking for a moment as you smiled to yourself, like terrifying people was a good memory to you. Sohee understands, or he thinks he does. He remembers the joy he’d get when Anton would look at him instead of past him. Sometimes it's only be when Anton was particularly scared or lonely. Anton wrapped his arm around Sohees' when he was going through a haunted mansion last Autumn. Once he set his cello down on his bed pointed towards Sohee like he could play it. He imagines it’s the same thing, because Sohee would feel excitement at the sight of Anton's emotional turmoil. The acknowledgment through fear isn’t too far from acknowledgment through loneliness.

“But no one has seen me in a long time.” You say finally.

And when your feet stop kicking, Sohee realizes more time must’ve passed than you thought. The only thing that brings you out of it is motioning in the general direction where Anton makes noise in the other aisle over.

“Can he see you?” You ask.

Sohee looked to Anton. He lingered looking at him for a second, his unbothered state as he restocked shelves. Sohee shrugged his shoulders.

“Only when he wants to. I think.” Sohee says.

“Are you his…” You motion vaguely between Sohee and Anton.

“I’m his imaginary friend.” Sohee says aloud.

Explaining what he is to someone else is strange. Over the years he’s come up with a name for it, he’s seen enough movies and read enough of Anton’s books to know that’s what he is. But explaining it to someone else is foreign. The way you tilt your head to the side like you expecting him to be like you makes Sohee feel like he’s wrong.

“Like you don’t exist?” When Sohee nodded he watched you try to comprehend it. “Like at all?” You continued.

If Sohee hadn’t been contemplating this his whole life, he’s sure he would’ve had a more negative reaction. Maybe a snide remark about how you technically didn’t exist either, or have an existential crisis panic attack on the spot. But he’s had time to think about this, so much to the point that he only nods back to you. Yes he’s not real, but he can form his own memories. He's nothing like Anton, he doesn't speak like him or scare easily like him. He can talk but he's not always heard, he can do something as hard as he can but not effect anything in Anton's world. Not everything is linked to Anton, because he can see you clearly while Anton is unbothered.

Then, the two of you are nodding to eachother. The lack of human interaction is obvious, the conversation fell off with nowhere to go. Between a ghost who hasn’t spoken to anyone since she was alive and an imaginary friend whose only interaction is a boy pretending he doesn’t exist, you’re both hopeless. You just continue looking at Sohee and he continues to look at you, confused and not knowing what to do next. You pat the empty space on top of the display case next to you.

“Wanna sit up here with me?” You ask.

Now you look at him with amusement. You skipped past all the things Anton had to do to make friends. Anton didn't beckon to people like you didn't until he was in highschool, and he didn't look at people the way you were looking at Sohee until he got them alone. There's something Sohee was supposed to be able to pick up on, he's sure of it. Like the tilt in your voice or the way you didn’t move over to give him more space. He’s good at analyzing Anton’s interactions, seeing things for what they are so Anton could act accordingly. When it’s just for him, it’s harder. He hesitates, looking down the aisle to Anton before looking at you.

Like a kid being invited to play with your toys, Sohee gives in. He walks over to you and leaps up, ending up in the same spot you patted.

Maybe it was too close, because your thighs are touching at the same time you realize your bodies aren’t phasing through eachother. Like something between the two of you is tangible on top of the deli meat case, but unable to be seen by anyone else. Anton could leave the aisle and walk around but he wouldn't be able to see you. If anything he'd see Sohee, looking to the end of the deli case while leaning against a figure that wasn't there.

“Did you used to work here?” Sohee asks.

Sohee asks the question while pointing at the crumbled apron next to you. Sohee can't calm that feeling in his stomach until you look away. Still your bodies are pressed close together, even your feet brush when you both nervously start kicking them.

“Long time ago.” Sohee watches your eyes stay on the apron. His eyes go to the name tag at the very top, repeating your name in his mind over and over again. When your hands leave the edge of the display case to point at the ceilings he follows your hand. “Back before the roof caved in and when the font for everything was different.” You answer.

When you bring your hand back down you rest it on Sohee’s thigh. He feels that restlessness in his stomach again. Anton never talked about this uncomfortable feeling. Sohee never felt it before, and Anton never mentioned how to get rid of it.

“Did you like your job?”

Sohee doesn’t know how to not pry. He doesn’t know when there will be a time for him to talk to someone like this again. If he is crossing a boundary he doesn’t know, because you answer willingly. You almost look happy to reminiscence. The kick is back in your feet as you cock your head to the side, trying to recollect.

“It was a good gig. I liked my coworkers too.” You say.

Sohee doesn’t know why it’s so easy to put his hand over yours. Something so intimate is so simple and is done without a word. He’s never seen an interaction like this with Anton, or overheard stories like these with his friends. Nothing about the movement is simple, because that restlessness is turning into a rock in his stomach. It's not second nature because he can feel you freeze underneath him. Sohee just looks forward the same time you do, staring down the lines of aisles down to the fresh produce section.

“You know. I haven’t had anyone see me in a really long time.” You whisper.

If this was flirting, Sohee didn’t know how to respond. There was never something so hopeless in the innuendoes Anton would receive and give to the people he talked to. There was never something asa bold as your pupils already shaking as you got closer to him.

Sohee wishes he could be as amazed as you are at something as simple as thighs touching. Never in his imaginary friend-isms has he felt human emotions at such a complex level. He knew what it was like to reach out and touch Anton’s hand, or to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. But Sohee has never been on the receiving end of something so human. Something as juvenile as clothed thighs touching and feet grazing scandalous and unreal. He should scoot away, just to create some distance between a stranger, but he can’t. There's no unfamiliarity between you two, even if you don't know his name and he doesn't know when you died. He leans into you further and you invite him, letting your arms intertwine, then shoulders rub against eachother, then feet cross over.

“I almost can’t believe it.” You say.

“My name is Sohee, by the way.” He says.

You hum in acknowledgement as you two continue to press into eachother. You two are both discovering what it means to be real to someone, so caught up in it that you have surpassed being strangers.

You’ve been alone in this grocery store for too long, watching the people you used to know leave and be replaced. You’ve seen the tile of the flooring change, the food selection, the music on the speakers change. So many things have happened to you, but this is a first. Maybe it’s the fact that time is fleeting and you don’t even know what day it is anymore, but you’re eager. You turn to Sohee, biting your cold lips and pulling at his arms like you know him. Sohee is remembering the time Anton was in this same situation, with a person across from him trying to silently tell him the obvious.

Sohee knows Anton isn’t the type to stay work third shift. This job will get in the way of his studies or his music or his life eventually. He knows Anton is going to ask the manager nicely to change his shift to the daytime or leave the place completely. Sohee doesn’t know if ghosts haunting workplaces is common, and he doesn’t want to find out.

Sohee pulls your arms back, then your lips are pressed against his in seconds. He doesn’t know how to kiss, and you’re too pent up to be any help. Sohee just follows you, pushing his tongue into your mouth and then reeling back when you run out of breath. He pulls at you when you pull at him, and wraps a hand around your waist when you lean into him. He becomes so caught up, he even kisses the air when you part from him.

You slide down from the display case and before you can tell Sohee you want to feel real for just a little bit he’s sliding off behind you. He’s close to you, hands on your hips like you might float away.

Ghosts get horny. Just like they get sad or lonely or angry. You have seen a few hot customers in your time here, and you remember praying to God that they were scared enough to see you. But here’s someone in front of you, who reaches out and touches you while waiting for your next move.

“Am I being presumptuous?” You ask.

Your common sense comes back to you. Can ghosts and whatever Sohee is have hookups? Do rules of being whatever Anton is still bind you? At the very least you can ask for whatever this is quickly becoming to continue.

“Not at all.” Sohee answers.

So human expectations are null and void here. Spirits and imaginary friends can feel eachother up like it’s nothing, because that is essentially what they are. They don’t need to waste their time with introductions because they already understand everything about eachother. You don’t need to explain to Sohee that you haven’t felt someone else since you died, and he doesn’t need to tell you all of his experience begins and ends with whatever Anton has done. He just needs to keep following you to the place where you two can get privacy and a surface to lay on.

Sohee recognizes the office. He remembers how cold Anton was after he pushed past the swinging doors and how cold he was walking to the managers office. Inside was where Anton accepted his current job, sitting in front of the desk while Sohee stood in the corner. Anton looked towards him once when his boss said that he’d be working overnights. Now he’s being pulled through the door as you turn around, putting your hands on his waist to pull him closer.

“The new manager who works here is an asshole.” You say.

Sohee realizes then that you are stuck in time. As he continues to grow with Anton, you’re the same age you were when you passed away. You sound like a bratty young adult, getting back at the manager who probably replaced the one you used to work under. Sohee imagines that an employee dying under your care is not a good look, and probably traumatizing enough to make a person quit. Can you feel guilt? Guilt seems more viable than horniness. You’ve seemed to have been able to work out the complicated feelings of being dead because you’re essentially unbothered, pushing Sohee to the corner of the desk until he has to lean against it.

You press your forehead to his chin, pulling down at the the collar of his shirt with your index fingers. The gray fabric starts to stretch from the force, but you can’t be bothered as more of Sohee’s chest is exposed. One of his hands leaves the edge of the desk to grip at your waist. You continue pulling, until you can see the fabric strain and hear another thread tear.

You pull your face away from Sohee’s neck to look at his collarbones. He looks to tangible underneath the light, so real. Like you can really feel the cotton material of his shirt on the pads of your fingers, you can hear it rubbing across his skin. You can feel the textured fabric on your finger tips, different from the smooth metal cans and plastic layers on produce. You look at how his skin twitches, it leads you all the way to the Adam’s apple that bobs in his throat.

“Did you ever do this when you were—“ Sohee interrupts your examination. You look up at him, and he swallows again when he sees the way you look at him. Your chin rests rests on his chest for a moment, and as a reflex Sohee looks away. “Did you ever do this when you were—” He repeats.

“Alive?” You finish.

If you could recall anything, you don’t know if you’d be here right now. You don’t think non-virgins haunt their old place of work, looking for something while trapped in a permanent purgatory. On the lighter side of things, you don’t know if you could’ve ever expressed yourself like this when you were alive. Shame left you a long time ago. If you were alive you would’ve never said anything to someone like Sohee. At the very least you two would’ve exchanged shy greetings at the register while you spent the whole day overanalyzing everything about your interaction. Now, you are just depraved brought by the countless days of being unseen. This was the first time you felt perversion to the point of shamelessly touching and pulling at someone to the point of straining their clothes.

“I don’t really remember.” You say.

Sohee’s hand loosens on your waist. You quickly put your hand over his, clasping over it to make his hold on you stronger.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” He apologizes.

“It’s okay Sohee.” You still examine him and pinch and prod at his skin. “Have you ever done this?” You ask.

Sohee’s entire existence had always been contingent on Anton. He’s always the perfect median to however Anton was feeling; if he was freezing Sohee was cool and if Anton was sweating he would only ever feel warm. Everything about Sohee was rooted in grounding Anton, even if he started ignoring his existence a long time ago. Sohee was uncontrollably the middle point of everything related to Anton, so he was perpetually stuck in a state of indifference. He didn’t know what it was like to feel so hot that sweat lined his back. Sohee didn’t think it would make such a difference to feel it. When you dragged your teeth against his collarbone he felt it. The gutters of internal temperature left him shivering underneath you. The feelings reserved for real humans was so violent it made Sohee shake against you.

“Is my body cold?” You asked.

Sohee opened his eyes when you spoke clearly. When he looked down at you, your eyes were wide from worry.

“I can never seem to get my body warm sometimes.” You said quietly.

When Sohee felt your body back away from his he lurched forward. He moved your hands back to his body, and wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you close. You were still against him, the angle he pulled you in at made you unable to move.

“I’ll warm you up.” Sohee says quickly.

He places an awkward wet kiss on your forehead. He swears he can feel you warming up in his hold. Your hands go back to pulling and holding Sohee again, reaching underneath his shirt to touch his bare body. When he draws in a breath from your cold hands making contact you hesitate again. Sohee pulls you closer, and he reaches his hands underneath the back of your shirt too. When you react the same way he kisses your forehead again, like he’s proving a point.

“I’ll warm you up.” He repeats.

He can feel your head nod before you turn to look up at him. Your eyes are blown out from lust now, and you preemptively lick your lips to let Sohee know what you want. Even when your lips are both numb from making out he still wants more. The way your tongue pushes past his lips the second time is so human, he feels alive when you breath hot air directly into his mouth. Neither of you can be bothered to pull away, stealing air from eachother through labored breathing.

Sohee is positive he can be here in this spot forever. Your body is hot to the touch now, and Sohee is feeling something he doesn’t even think Anton has felt before. He’s the real one among the pair, he thinks that Anton is wandering the aisles of the grocery store wondering why he feels so strange.

Sohee feels for the button on your jeans the same time you reach for his. Neither of you know what the other is doing, what you’re doing. You two are simply following the human urge to keep the good feelings going. He follows it until he pops the button at the top of your jeans and undoes your zipper. He feels you put your full bodyweight on his leg that’s slotted between yours when he makes it to the material of your underwear.

Although Sohee feels alot like a real human boy, he knows he’s still lacking in many ways. For the past twenty-one years of his life Anton has been the only person to know of his existence. Calling Sohee’s being an existence is also egregious, because being an imaginary friend literally means that he doesn’t exist. But he’s had twenty-one years to think about what it means to exist, so he’ll let himself say he exists for the sake of his sanity.

Sohee has never been acknowledged by another being, much less someone that understands what he is and what he goes through. He doesn’t know how to talk to non-Anton people because he never has had the chance to. When he found out you could see him, he stumbled over his words. Even now, with you kissing his neck and failing to undress him he doesn’t know what to do. He’s made it this far by your horniness and the fact that you two are essentially the only people in this world. He doesn’t know how to keep you engaged, or what to say that isn’t a line directly from the pornos Anton watches.

When you finally push the waistband of his jeans down far enough to put your hand experimentally over Sohee’s bulge, he doesn’t know what to do.

“You’re so real.” He sighs.

Sohee knows that dirty talk isn’t supposed to sound like that. He’s supposed to be confident and sultry, talking about how soft hands are and how sexy someone is. But he can’t stop himself from sputtering out the lie that you are an actual person.

He didn’t know that was the right thing to say. It makes you grind down on his leg and press harder into him.

“So are you.” You lie against his neck.

As if God can hear you, the moment you touch him beneath the belt your hands are ice cold. He stiffens underneath your kisses and your eyes go wide, but you are so close to where he needs you the most. So even when you hesitate Sohee sticks his hand in his pants to clasp over yours.

“It feels nice.” He assures.

Both of your hands together touch Sohee’s dick. He is almost positive he’ll be smooth like a Ken doll down there, because what reason would an imaginary friend need a penis for. He thanks God and he guesses Anton for blessing him with something that leaves you wide eyed and tugging him roughly.

Sohee feels something so strongly it’s like a hole forms in his chest. In a haste he takes his other hand off the edge of the table, leaving him without something to lean on. His full body weight is against the mahogany desk too quickly, knocking over the nameplate. You slide across with him as an effect, causing your heads to bump together.

The movement is clumsy, and it’s blatantly obvious you two are virgins by proxy. What can a ghost and imaginary friend do together? You can tell eachother how real the other one is, even if it’s a lie. Sohee can reach his hand down your pants—which he does—and think carefully about his next line.

“You’re so wet.” He says.

Another line that works, despite him not knowing why. Sohee feels you grip the edge of the mahogany desk, impatiently pushing down at your waistband before you do the same to his. Foreplay is for the living and breathing and people who haven’t waited a lifetime to be seen. You were inducted into the longest bout of celibacy by force, and you were not going to go another day without it. You pull your shirt over your head and Sohee follows suit. He steps out of his pants and you do the same. In just your panties and bra you crawl onto the desk, and Sohee is helping you. He clears the nameplate out of your way, he even puts his shirt under your head as a makeshift pillow.

"I can't believe it." He says.

All he did was get up on top of the display case. He didn’t think clothed thighs touching would lead him here. But still he pulls your waist to the edge of the table and you shimmy down, breath catching from the excitement. You prop yourself up by your elbows and look at Sohee, almost completely naked between your legs.

“Me neither.” You agree, looking directly at his dick.

Sohee realizes he’s keeping you waiting. His nerves don’t matter because you have been waiting for this a ridiculous amount of time, long enough for everyone you knew when you were alive to be gone and replaced with new people. The way you stare at him and the sterile lighting in the room makes this feel artificial. For a moment he wants to ask if you’re bound to this place. He could take you to Anton’s apartment, and you two could try doing this in the dark living room on that new couch he bought last week.

But that would require waiting, and Sohee already promised himself to not bring up your situation. So he makes a quick fix, turning on the office lamp and turning off the main lights. You watch him do it, eyes wide with curiosity before you smile.

“Setting the mood?” You ask.

“Just a little.” He answers.

The light is less harsh on Sohee as he pushes his boxers down. He sees your hands start to touch on your own body, small grazes to raise bumps across your skin and to fill the moments he doesn’t have his hands on you. Sohee comes forward, and just like a human he smacks his dick over the covered cunt.

Another right move. You somehow became even more impatient, because instead of taking your panties off you push them to the side, one hand collecting the fabric and the other propping your body up.

“Can’t wait.” You say.

Sohee nods and spits in his hand, another thing he remembers from all the pornos. He has to really know you because everything seems to be well received. You bite your lip watching him work the makeshift lube on his dick, and you edged closer to the end of the desk as Sohee came forward. He had to grip the edge of the desk when you reached for him, lining his dick up at your entrance. Should he ask you nicely if he should sink into you? Should he tell you that you’re pretty and if you were both real people you’d find your way to eachother to be in this very position? Or should he get philosophical, and tell you that circumstance put you two in this situation.

Definitely not the last choice. Maybe the first one. Sohee looks up from where you two are about to meet and sees that you are already staring right at him.

“Sohee.”

“Is this—”

“Please fuck me.” You interrupt.

Sohee can’t say anything else because you grab him by the arm and pull him forward, his tip pushes into you and you grip him so tight he feels pain for the first time in his life. If he could bleed crimson would be underneath your fingernails. He just seethes and continues pushing in, until the pain turns to relief and he has to hang his head forward to focus.

He knows he’s not stuck in you but he can’t move, everything in him tells him to stay in this position with you forever. Sohee’s hips don’t move until your hand pushes at his waist, then pulls so he’ll slide right back in.

“You’re soooo warm.” Sohee says quietly.

“Good.” You lift your hips from the edge of the table in an effort to fuck yourself further on Sohee. “I’m glad.” You sigh.

Sohee is sighing too. His shallow thrusts meet you perfectly in the middle, and when you guide his hand to press into your lower stomach you both sigh again. The feeling of your wrapped around him is tight and warm, so warm that Sohee feels sweat lining his skin for the first time in his existence. Even if the office is cold and desolate, he still feels so much heat he almost starts panting.

You’re pulling at his hand over your stomach, pulling it up further and further until it rests on your chest. Sohee is too focused on you pulsing around him to notice you changing the position of his hand over and over. Like you’re looking for something Sohee lets his hand be dragged across your chest. He doesn’t grab at your soft skin, he lets his palm be laid flat over your ribcage. Sohee uses one of his hands to press the back of your thigh, bringing it closer to your chest. You gasp and arch your back from the desk, and Sohee finally notices where you made his hand rest.

He doesn’t feel the rapid beat against his hand, despite both of you moaning and sweating. He knows what should be there, there’s been moments in Sohee’s time where he’s been able to hear Anton’s nervous heart thudding in his chest. But even then, when Sohee placed his hand in the same place you were pressing his, he didn’t feel anything. He wasn’t expecting to have a heart, he didn’t have blood and for all he knew he didn’t have a brain either. An empty vessel, the same way you are empty now. He’s never needed a second opening like you seemingly do. Even if your eyes are glazed over from the feeling you still fiend for proof of life. He understands, he really does. If he knew what it was like to be alive he doesn’t think he’d ever let it go.

Even though you are on the same level of not real as Sohee is, he would consider himself to be luckier than you. He’s not bound to this place the same way you are. When Anton gets off of work Sohee will go home and live just like a person. You’re going to go back to laying on the display case of the deli meats, waiting for someone to get scared enough to see you.

He wants to take your mind off of your circumstance, even if it’s not for long. Like it’ll fix anything Sohee doesn’t mention your lack of a heart but goes for your chest instead, gripping and pinching your nipple until your back arches off the desk again. He pinches harder and a whine falls from your cracked lips. He sees your tongue poke out and feels your hand clasp over his. You’re so warm, he wants to tell you again but he knows it would only lead to you thinking about how cold you are permanently. Sohee just presses your thigh closer to your chest until you writhe from the stretch.

“So tight.” Sohee says.

He has to tilt his head back when you seize around him again. Something so good only being reserved for real people is not fair. He doesn’t know how long he can go without feeling this way again.

Sohee feels you pull at him and again he become malleable. Instantly he lets his body become flush to yours, sweaty fronts glued together. This was the part where your heartbeats were supposed to sync. Instead you run your hands down his back. You’re fingernails were supposed to leave welts and scratches in their wake. Sohee remains unscathed, but still he hisses. He doesn’t know if it’s the phantom pains or if he’s doing it for your sake, but he still feel’s something. He presses harder into you as you wrap your legs around his waist. You push him in further, deeper than he thought was possible.

Now Sohee is helpless. His hand that was pawing at your chest before is clenched beside your head. He’s panting into the crook of your neck, and his breath is warm and fans your skin. He hopes you’re building a fever the same way he is because he’s burning up in the best way possible. He prays he doesn’t feel hot to contrast your cold skin, and he hopes by some weird paranormal math equation like PEMDAS he’s warming you up too.

He reasons with himself he’s trying to warm you up when he starts sucking on the skin of your neck. He knows by all means he should be leaving a mark at the junction of your neck. He licks and bites and sucks, until you whine underneath him and he feels more pseudo-pain on his back. But each time he pulls back to see the progress he’s making, there’s nothing there. You’re skin is unsullied, and Sohee almost feels embarrassed for trying so hard.

“I’ll pretend you left a mark.” You breathe below him.

Sohee still leaves a mess. Your skin is shiny with spit, and if he squints he can see the indent of his teeth from when he pressed them into you. He wants to reach lower, until he can latch onto the side of your chest that he neglected earlier but your hands on his back keep him in place. He almost fights against your grip but gives in, letting your chests and stomachs press together as he starts rutting into you. You looked fucked out, eyes glazed and Sohee has to press his face to the side of yours to ground himself.

“I think I might.” Sohee pants right into your ear.

“Me too.” You say.

You’re legs wrap around him tighter and Sohee is almost worried. Worrying is for humans, consequences are for them too. The two of you can do whatever you want, when you want, with whoever is just like you guys. So Sohee doesn’t offer to pull out, and you don’t loosen your legs around his waist. You hold him and pull him deeper and closer, the only difference is that you maneuvered your hand into the mix. Now Sohee is fucking into you the same time you rub tight circles on your clit, making you seize and pulse around him even more. The feeling is blinding. He’s whimpering in your ear and you’re nearly crying from euphoria in his.

How did you two get here? Sohee was sitting on the deli meats with you just twenty minutes ago, finding out what it was like to be touched. Now he was standing between your legs, body to body with you.

Just like those messy hookups Anton’s friends are always talking about, you both finish and go silent. Sohee came first, his impatient hips only rutting against yours a few more times before he froze above you completely. You can shortly after, telling Sohee to join you in rubbing the tight circles before you held him at such an angle it made his hand cramp. He worked through the pain because pain is relative to him, and then gravity weighed heavy on the both of you. Sohee’s body slumped on yours and your legs dangled over the edge of the desk.

Sohee doesn’t move until you move first. You pick your head up from the desk, looking past the window before you tapped his shoulder. Sohee lifted his heavy head to follow your pointed finger.

“Your friend is off of work for the day, I think.” You said.

Sohee watched Anton walk by the closed door again with his apron off. He realized that a whole graveyard shift escaped him while he was here with you. You slip out from under him and put your clothes back on, and Sohee has to follow your lead. He still feels weak like a real person, and sleepy like something human transpired between the two of you. He’s in a daze and you’re the same way, stumbling on your legs as you pull your pants up your legs.

“That was fun.” You hand Sohee his clothes. He feels unsettled, and he knows that Anton is probably looking for him. “Maybe next time your human is here we could do something like this again.” You say.

Referring to Anton as his human makes Sohee feel like he has some sort of control. Like Anton is an extension of him instead of vice versa. You still refer to this place as yours, even though you haven’t worked there in years. Something about moving on but owning your circumstances. Things Sohee is going to ponder until he sees you again. Unless Anton decides this job is too scary and quits.

“Yeah.” Sohee hold his clothes in his lap and smiles at you. “That would be nice.” He says.

#01zfan: sohee #sohee smut #riize smut

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