#don't take me too seriously it's late at night here
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mostotherthings · 4 months ago
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小偷 是誰跨過了界線?
This conversation and the subsequent happenings in the episode have made me repeat this episode a few times even without me realising what I was doing.
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So, it starts with classical guitar playing. She is playing Francisco Tarrega's Recuerdos de la Alhambra (Memories of the Alhambra), as the teacher starts to talk about the fortress of Alhambra
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怎麼了What's the matter?
你不喜歡西班牙You don't like Spain?
還是不喜歡收復失地 Or you don't like regaining lost territories?
Sheng Wang goes for the jugular- is it history you don't like or... you don't like conceding ground to others?
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我不喜歡歷史 I don't like History
历史就是一部血腥的侵略史 History is just a series of bloody invasions
Jiang Tian's glasses are still on here. History to him are just filled with bad memories, bad things (his trauma, perhaps?)
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是誰打敗了誰 It's all about who defeated the other
劃了什麼界限 what boundary lines were drawn
然後以什麼什麼為國 and calling somewhere a nation
以什麼什麼為界 and somewhere its boundary
and he takes off his glasses here, he has conceded some ground, when he talks about defeat and how meaningless this giving and taking is
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怎麼啦?What is it?
我講錯了嗎?Did I say something wrong?
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也不是 Not really, 但是 But
正因為有這樣一次的運動和前進 It's because of this continuous movement and progress forward
才推到了一些高牆啊 that pushed down some high walls
Sheng Wang speaks frankly here, which I think is quite a show of his trust for Jiang Tian. From the beginning where he promises to keep his distance from Jiang Tian, Sheng Wang talks about progress, movement, the future, that led to the crumbling of the fortress walls (Jiang Tian's walls... perhaps?)
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讓愛 (and) let love
充滿了這個世界 fill up this world
and Sheng Wang has this love, that can fill up another person's world
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��且 正因為有了這些看似像界線一樣的東西 and it's because of these things that are like boundaries
才有進入別人的世界 are you able to enter another person's world
了解別人的可能 and understand that other person's possibility
It's like he's saying here - I respect your boundaries, and it's because of them, because of our differences, that makes me interested in you (?)
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那你覺得我現在是入侵了你的世界 So do you feel that I am invading your world now?
and Sheng Wang has had half an arm pass the middle point of the frame- he has been sitting, invading Jiang Tian's space for the entire conversation
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還是你侵入了我的世界呢?Or is it you who have invaded mine?
And Sheng Wang continues- so am I getting to know you... or are YOU actually getting to know ME?
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我就是不喜歡歷史. I just don't like history
Jiang Tian concedes the battle and puts his glasses back on. Sheng Wang returns to his side of the frame.
The teacher continues to talk about Alhambra being a ruin for many years, until the King of Spain started to restore it...
As the episode continues, Sheng Wang keeps getting into people's spaces.
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Auntie Jiang an example. Later when he witnesses the lovers at the West Gate- he's all up in other people's business this week, generally being an injured nuisance
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With Sheng Wang home, Jiang Tian thinks he can put back the boundary/walls he conceded earlier. He makes up a lie- he's not in the dorm, telling Sheng Wang, he's not where Sheng Wang thinks he is going to be
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The day darkens, the lie continues, the walls are coming back up
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那我怎麼沒有看到你啊 Then why can't I see you?
When the lights come up, the lie is exposed. There's no more hiding, and Jiang Tian makes a run for it
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Now Sheng Wang's closest to the person whose walls he wants to break down (he doesn't quite understand it yet)
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He doesn't understand it yet!
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But it's the thief, the thief who breaks down both their walls- it's a moment of vulnerability. Everyone else in the dorm room has gone home, and they should have been safe with each other. When the dorm master suggests huddling together for safety, Sheng Wang suggests it immediately. He now thinks of the room as their territory, they should be together to repel the invaders. Jiang Tian thinks about the last time he tried to put up a boundary......
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It's the same expression he had the last time he had his walls taken down by Sheng Wang. He just can't win this war. So he lies down......
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AND THEN THE MOMENT OF GENIUS IN THIS EPISODE, where Memories of Alhambra start to play again. The wall is in ruins, the fortress has crumbled.
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He has to concede this. He inches to face the 'invader'.
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It's their wall now. And they rest, safe.
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thepitlanepress · 8 days ago
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WE'RE FAMILY, ME AND YOU –
↳ oscar piastri + gf!reader
⌗ :: masterlist
⌗ :: a/n: osc being protectiveeee . also he is so fine in that pic. warnings for offhanded comments abt weight and shit like that (if anyone irl is like this towards you i'll personally fight them). idk if this is gonna be super good bc i think my brain stopped working near the end lol but other wise enjoyyy
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"please don't hold my horrible family against me, oscar," you say when he pulls into the driveway of your childhood home, the warm lights blaring inside.
"baby, we've been dating for two years, and i've met your family before," oscar smiles picking you hand up and gently squeezing it.
"i know but seriously, they're going to be awful," you groan softly falling back in your seat. "i don't want to do this."
"we'll do it together okay?"
"okay."
the first comment came a few moments after you walked inside: "oh its so good to see you oscar!" your mother and grandmother both come rushing out to greet you.
"and my darling daughter," your mother smiles and gives you a small hug, before pulling back and eyeing you up and down. "you chose quite the dress wow, you can see everything. you'd would almost think it was too small."
you laugh along with the "joke" and only relax slightly when you feel oscar's hand slip into your own, reminding you he's there.
you continue on through the house as your grandma gives oscar a tour, even though he was here about two months ago and literally nothing has changed.
he's polite, and nods along with whatever nonsense spiel she's giving him about a vase that apparently was her great great grandmothers - when you know for a fact she bought it a week ago because she sent your sister an incessant amount of texts about it in the family group chat.
the one you're clearly not apart of.
when you make it to the lounge room, you instantly sit down on the couch pulling oscar down with you, wanting this night to be finished with already. your grandmother enters the room with a platter of snacks, smiling as she puts it down, "now don't eat too much of this sweetie or you won't have room for dinner, or anymore room in that dress."
you don't notice is but oscars demeanour changes then.
he pulls you closer to his side and has one arm tightly wrapped around your waist as he takes a few crackers slipping every second one to you. he leans down whispers in your ear. "eat, i know you haven't today, fuck what linda says."
you smile and slightly relax more into the conversation, especially when your grandad and dad enter the room. both are overjoyed you're here, instantly stealing your boyfriends focus and talking to him about racing and the latest car that your dad bought and wants to fix up.
you were having a slightly better time, well until:
"pumpkin, leave poor oscar alone, you're practically on top of him!" you mother fusses, and you internally flinch at that dumb nickname.
"i wouldn't mind if she were on top of me," oscar mutters and you choke slapping him on the chest as he smirks. it brings a smile to your face the first one of today.
your dad clearly having heard what was said becomes all red and flustered clearing his throat and announcing dinner is ready, while struggling to hide a smile.
–––
dinner is your least favorite moment of the night. from the comments, to the "mothers" purposely pushing plates away from you. oscar notices and instead puts food on his plate and then switches it with yours.
which leads to them tsk-ing about how he needs to eat more and let you choose what you eat.
and you do what any good daughter would do when your mother looks at you and nudges the salad in front of your plate and says, "make sure you eat your salad, pumpkin," you shove it down and paste a smile on your face.
oscar sees it.
"how is work lately, oscar?" your grandmother asks smiling at him, before nudging him in the side with her elbow, "you're doing better than, pumpkin over there i tell you."
shove it down.
oscars hand lands softly on your thigh, silent support in the only way he can right now. you smile softly at him and he winks at you a small smile appearing across his face.
"oh enough you, we don't need all this while eating dinner, well while we eat dinner, you don't really need to," your mother sniffs. you struggle to push this one down and excuse yourself from the table. "i'm sorry oscar, that she wasn't letting you breathe. she needs to learn to give you some space. so clingy that girl."
"i'm breathing perfectly fine," oscar answers entering the conversation his voice calm but strong. "and quite frankly mindy, i think you need to lay off with the comments, i'm fine, your daughters fine, we're all fine, so stop with the snarky comments and the petty bitchy notions. because quite frankly, thats how you're acting, like a bitch."
he shoots a look to your grandmother, "and you too linda, don't go around pretending you're all high and mighty with your "everyone is amazing and i love my family" act, when you can't even treat your own granddaughter right. you two should be ashamed of yourselves. do better. all of you- well except you darren and mike i like you guys."
with that he pushes his chair out and goes to find you, knocking on the bathroom door, but not hearing a response. "sweetheart? you in there?" after a few more moments of silence he enters the room - you're not in there obviously, the window is open and he can hear the car running outside.
he leaves the house without saying goodbye to anyone and just gets in the car with you puts it in reverse and leaves.
you're both quiet for a few moments before you whisper, "i'm sorry for running out."
"no," oscars voice is firm. "don't you ever apologise for that, those women are bitches in a snake skin and they do not deserve your time and attention." he pulls off on the side of the road, cars driving past the only sound that fills the space in the quiet. "don't you ever apologise for being a beautiful, perfect person. don't you ever apologise for being you. because you are perfect."
he takes your face gently in his hands and softly kisses your nose. "you are the most amazing human being ever and i'm glad my heart belongs to you, those pathetic women back there can't see your beauty or your talented-ness or your smarts - you're a race engineer for gods sake - and thats on them." he presses a kiss to both of your cheeks.
"you are my sweetheart, my gorgeous best friend, my everything. and i love you baby," he whispers kindly before pressing a soft kiss to your mouth. "we're a family me and you, we don't need those fuckers back there," he winks.
you giggle and whisper back, "i love you too."
a quiet moment falls over top of you both as you just rest your foreheads pressed against each other.
"takeout?"
"let's go."
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2025 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works
– comments and reblogs appreciated
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sacredsorceress · 5 months ago
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Meet Cute with Logan Would Include... || Wolverine Headcanons
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pairing: logan howlett (wolverine) x mutant!f!reader summary: you're a new teacher at the school and logan is interested in you from your first meeting a/n: i'm admittedly projecting with the fact that reader teaches history but just a little blurb because logan's been on my mind and i need to get work done <33 lmk if you want me to make this into an actual fic!! warnings: none, all fluff
masterlist | inbox | tip jar (ko-fi)
when you first arrive at the school as a teacher (and late blooming mutant) charles introduces you to logan
logan has a typical scowl on his face and glances at you up and down
so you begin to worry that you've worn the wrong outfit or presented yourself poorly and now an infamous wolverine dig is about to be thrown your way
but instead, he takes a puff of his cigar, and looks back at charles
"you have a rule about only recruiting good-looking teachers or something?"
and what an array of relief (and butterflies) do you get from that
"yes, very funny, logan. however, y/n here has a phd. I've brought her on to teach the students"
"yeah? and what's your "gift"?" (mutation)
he has a coy look on his face
"oh logan, that's a bit personal..." you said with faux seriousness. "buy me a drink first."
for the first time, you saw him smile. a chuckle reverberated in his chest.
"fair enough."
after that interaction charles escorted you out of the room but as you went, logan's eyes were trained on you.
intrigued, he took another puff of his cigar and smiled to himself.
on your first night there, once all the children have gone to sleep and all the adults have gone to their own rooms for the night you hear a knock on your door.
and guess who it is?
you hate to admit it but god, does he look so hot and suave standing in your doorway.
logan's hair is in a typical mess and his flannel has a few more buttons undone than it did this morning,
and although he's rough around the edges and not as necessarily openly friendly as the others, he exudes confidence- especially as he leans against your doorframe.
"you said i owed you a drink."
although he takes you to the diviest dive bar in town, you have such a good time.
after a little bit of awkwardness, the two of you found your footing and you end up talking (flirting) for hours
well, in actuality, you do most of the talking but boy does he like listening to you talk and watching your eyes light up while you laugh at some of your own stories
on the way back to the mansion, he opens the car door for you
"thank you."
"don't mention it" (he's blushing a little)
on the ride back he tries to be as smooth as possible, one arm draped over the passenger seat while the other rests on the steering wheel
he keeps taking quick glances at you as you hum along to the song on the radio and even though you just met he's already thinking about how he could get used to this
he walks you back to your room and as much as he wants to make another move (and you do too) he doesn't want to mess up your relationship before its even started
i mean, you're living in the same place?? what happens if you don't like it?? and you end up hating him?? now his suave demeanor has crumbled under the weight of realising this is actually real and not a game
"I'll.. uh... be down the hall if you need me."
"thanks, logan" you smile softly and he thinks its the first time anyone's done that in over a decade and meant it
when he starts walking down the hall, you call out in a whisper
"oh and logan!" you pause. "sweet dreams."
before he can say anything the door of your bedroom shuts
a stupid, silly grin coats his face so big that he rubs his hand across his cheeks in fear anyone would catch the big bad wolverine becoming a softie for the teacher he's got the hots for
although you've just met, you've got him wrapped around your finger and he can barely believe it
shoving his hands in his pocket, logan shakes his head and laughs on the way to his own bedroom
"fuck."
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unacknowledgeable · 25 days ago
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Continued: Serial killer reader x yan!batfam
.........Ooooookay, I guess yall really liked my serial killer!reader? I guess I'm honor bound to continue??? Oh noooo, the horrorrrr. But seriously, I'm glad! Because it only gets worse from here! >:}
Anyway, this was really difficult to write because I literally could not find good starting and stopping points, I tried to make my thoughts flow into each other as seamlessly as possible but there's SO MUCH I wanna write for this, it’s eating me alive, (also like, feel free to send asks bc I get sidetracked a lot in my writing and looove just answering questions as jumping off points, so please gimme gimme)
That being said, enjoy!
WARNING for disturbing imagery, untreated mental illness and trauma, blood, and depictions of murder (seriously)
So obviously, this M/c is a serial killer, so how do they go about keeping this hidden while simultaneously living with the world's greatest detectives?
Simple, ya don't.
Okay so that's not completely true. Compared to the average criminal, you put in a lot of effort to not get caught, but the average criminal doesn’t live with THE Batman either
Compared to the rest of your family though? You basically put in the bare minimum required to hide your… unsavory activities
Of course, you'll wash your blood soaked clothes yourself, in the lesser used washrooms of the manor, but once in a blue moon, when you’re too tired to care or your catch of the night put up a greater fight then anticipated, you'll throw your tainted clothes in with the rest of the families
And they just… don't fucking notice.
Or when they do, they just assume that one of the others had an unfortunate run in with some criminal while in civvies 
You've overheard many admonishments from Dick or Alfred over the years, telling Tim or Jason to “Please stop putting bloody clothes in with the whites, there's a basket for them two feet away!”
It was always pretty hard trying to keep a straight face when hearing those scoldings, but you always did, you didn't want Damian demanding to know what was so funny and dampening your mood
Or Cass giving you one of her calculated looks and suddenly getting nosy, that would make losing your clothes to Tim’s closet a lot less worth the laugh.
It’s just that, this assumption is waaaaay more plausible then say, the serial killer they've been tracking relentlessly for literal years, is just…tossing their VERY incriminating evidence in with the family's laundry, then passing out on some couch in one of the many sitting rooms of the manor, while the family goes out and discovers their latest victim
It's just easier to assume it was one of the others, Dick would never connect you, of all people, to the gore tossed haphazardly in the hamper, it's way more likely to be one of the many crime fighters of the family, not the soft spoken hermit of the manor, and even if that was a possibility in his mind, you don't even have a scratch on you
Not that he’s ever bothered to check you for injuries before, like he does almost religiously for the others
And Alfred? Well he's of the belief you'd grown out of your… tendencies, that it was a one time thing. Despite his reputation as an omnipotent presence in the manor, he never did realize just how deep your mental issues ran. Not until it was far too late.
You don't even have a specific weapon either, half of the time you'll just take one of Alfred's steak knives and hit the lower levels of Gotham, wandering around the decrepit streets till you found someone suitable 
Other times, when you’re in an exceptionally bad mood, be it because Damian said something particularly venomous or Alfred missing an important event for you because something came up with one of your siblings, or even when your classmates decided it would be funny to key your car-
Or it's just one of those days
Those days when the abstract voices simmer louder in the back of your mind, pushing and nagging. Images that you desperately want to forget but can't help the need to recreate. All threatening to boil over until you either crumble into a sobbing heep on the floor or go out and do the one thing that has always been able to shut. them. up.
Those days you’re… forgetful
On those days, you forget to grab one of Alfred’s pristine knives, but that's fine, Gothams streets are littered with dangerous items, so there's no shortage of tools at your disposal. You're creative, resourceful, you can use whatever's on hand at the time, whatever's in reach.
But if there's nothing? No sharp objects, no discarded bricks or loose pipes or even a half empty beer bottle, well… you're no stranger getting your hands dirty
Those times however, are pretty hazy in the aftermath.
You’ll forget certain details, like how they gripped your arms in a vain attempt to draw your own blood as you drew theirs, in the event that if they dont get away, at least you'd be caught, (all it leaves are dark, tender bruises along your arms, that you'll spend weeks poking and prodding at, in the hopes of reliving that moment)
Or how they'd flail their legs, inches from the ground, trying to kick your legs out from beneath you (it was kinda cute, how much shorter they were then you, how little their attempts to free themselves did when it mattered the most)
Even their last, warbling pleas for mercy were lost to you. You know they said something, could vaguely recall that they spoke, too absorbed in watching their bloody lips turn blue as the oxygen in their body slowly ran out (No no please please…My girls are waiting)
No, no you don't remember much but what you do remember, what you always, always remember, are the eyes 
You remember the tears, the fear, the acceptance, the rage, the refusal, the disbelief, the confusion, the indignation, and most of all the recognition. 
Whether it be them recognizing just who you are or realizing that this is who will end their life, you don't know, you’ve never bothered to ask. 
You prefer to think it’s the latter, it's hard to explain, but it makes you feel so so important
When it’s over, and the adrenaline in your veins soften, your breathing calmer, the blood rushing through your ears no longer so deafening, and you can feel the pleasing ache in your limbs, you sit, and asses the damage, as you always do
You always make sure to grab their wallet, take out the ID and memorize it, before gingerly putting it back, and finally walking away, head clear and numb in the cold Gotham air
There's no real reason why, its mostly force of habit at this point, it started with your very first kill, you don't feel like breaking the little ritual now, or anytime soon
It just feels wrong, to take a life and not even know whose life it is...was.
Later, long past any reasonable hour, you lay in bed, fresh out of the shower and thumbing the bruises, listening to the voices over the family's communicators (you stole one of Dicks, he has a nasty habit of leaving them around the manor) as they patrol the Gotham streets for crime and mayhem
You honestly can't help the small smile that graces your face, falling into sleep, as you hear the quiet, defeated sigh over the highly protected com link, “B, I've found another one, it's…it’s pretty rough tonight”
The pause is long before a small, gruff, “I have your location, ETA in 10 minutes”
You slept pretty good that night
Damn, sometimes the shit I come up with scares even me, again, feel free to send asks (shh I'm not begging), the brain worms are always hungry and I have sooooo many thoughts about this thing. lol 
Hope you enjoyed!
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bywons · 7 months ago
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✢ ⠀ CRAWLING BACK TO YOU — PJS
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━━━ ❛ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗃𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗌𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄
( 𝖠𝖱𝖳 𝓓𝖤𝖢𝖮 ) 𝗉𝗃𝗌 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾�� 𖥔 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 ��𝗑𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌 ` ィ 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾? 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 1334 𝑤𝖼 && CATALOUGE
✦ PLS REBLOG if u enjoyed !! | click me 𝑖𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈
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“glad to kn-know i'm still relevant in your world,” jay pushes the door aside, stumbling to the side of your apartment door. back pressed against it with his head held high, he shoots you a smug smirk as he's almost about to slide down. “i knew you miss me, darling.”
he's drunk, it's clear as day. you don't miss out the little silver flask almost falling off from his hand and how he reeks of alcohol, who knows how many drinks he had this night. you don't even remember why you called him in the first place, it's 3 in the morning— both too early and late and scandalous to call a person, especially when it's your ex. especially when it's a drunk park jongseong.
“jay,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair, “what are you doing here?”
he chuckles, his laugh a mix of genuine amusement and intoxicated sloppiness. “you called, so here i am,” he says, attempting to stand up straighter but failing miserably. “couldn't leave you hanging, could i?"
you groan internally, cursing your impulsive decision. “fuck me,” you mutter. “come in before you wake up the whole building.” you literally drag him into your apartment before shutting the door close. jay collapses on the couch, a faint smirk still directed at you.
did you call him? everything in the past hour has been so obscure that you didn't even notice the dry tears on your cheeks until now, when a cool breeze caresses it, leaving an odd stretchy feeling against your dry skin. maybe it's a few glasses of wine, or a drunk call? maybe you called him to deal with the cockroach in your room which you know you can deal with yourself. or maybe it's the overwhelming loneliness that's been gnawing at you lately. regardless, calling jay at 3 in the morning wasn't your smartest move.
“now, why'd you call me?,” ah of course, now he will want to talk about your break up. he can barely make sentences, words overlapping each other in a somewhat coherent sentence, “3 am is definitely your timing.”
and the best way to ignore a drunk talking park jongseong? offer him water to sober down, because heck you can't understand anything. neither him nor this situation.
grabbing a bottle of water from the kitchen, you hand it to him, watching as he struggles to sit up and open it before finally taking a sip.
“why did you call me?" he asks, voice softer now. the redness of his eyes and the bravado in his voice fading. he looks up at you, only a hands’ distance away from where he's sitting.
“i need you to ah—,” shit. eye contact with park jongseong still has the same effect on you, “help me move some furniture. you know, crazy landlady.” you let out a chortle.
“moving furniture? at 3 am?,” jay narrows his eyes, gaze piercing through you, it's obvious he doesn't believe you, “do i seriously have the word dumb tattooed across my face?”
jay doesn't move an inch from his place, eyes lying still on yours, an unspoken connection that's been missed by you both, a connection so palpable and mellow that it's still a residue in this messed up relationship. you realise how much you miss his eyes— he moves your heart by them and he's still. you wish you could kiss him right now, does he want that too? after all, why wouldn't he want that? no man is willing to stumble to their ex's apartment at 3 in the morning in a drunken state. that too after just one call which could've been an accident? jay definitely wants you back.
“no, no at all jay, i'm really—”
“you were with heeseung last week,” jay doesn't let you finish explaining yourself— before he gives you another mishap to explain. his eyes narrow down even more, he catches his lips between his teeth, “...i didn't like that.”
“you should've closed your eyes and walked out of the bar then, jay,” you snap. it's quite insufferable for park jongseong to be furious over the consequences of his actions. you had to return home late at night, and with no car how could you? you don't trust cabs at that hour, but you do still trust your ex. and when even the last option opts out himself you're left with something out of syllabus— his best friend. you have to go home! “don't start with that.”
“fair, want me to start with fixing ’seung?,” jay's words are colder than the flask he's carrying.
“jay you better not—”
“oh i won't,” jay scoffs, evident jealousy laced in his voice, “i have better things to do.”
it's only a split second, and you don't know when or how you end up under him on the sofa, his hand softly clasping around your wrist and the other encircling your waist. jay entangles his legs with yours, an impossible knot to get out of. there's still a drunken reflection in his eyes as he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear, hand caressing your cheeks. his eyes stunt yours, you're suddenly unable to speak as you feel his lips press down yours. they sloppily trace down to your cheeks to your jaws and neck. jay giggles in between, probably at your sudden silence, and the way he feels your hands pull his collar closer to you.
that's the most basic method to try and get back your ex. but you don't find yourself stopping him.
“so, this is the better thing?,” you scoff when you look up at him, jay leaves a final kiss on the crook of your neck before he hovers over you again.
his silver chain dangles from his neck, the coldness of it caressing the bridge of your nose, sending an electric wave down your spine. pairing up with his smug eyes and lazy grin is the deadliest combo ever, it's not good for you at all. should you really get back with him? kiss this better with him?
“the best thing,” jay whispers, “don't know why heeseung even tries,” he rolls his eyes, “you're mine, he should use his eyes.”
“am i really yours?,” you sigh, your hold on his black shirt's collars loosening as your eyes become glossy at the thought of something disturbing, “i saw you…with someone else too.” it felt weird somewhere to feel betrayed when you see some random girl clinging to your ex, even though you know jay probably brushed her off later but you didn't wait to see the scene.
“oh no no, love,” you expected jay to panic and chant ‘it was a mistake’, but you're glad he didn't live up to this expectation. he's confident about what he says, as he moves lower and closer to your face, tracing the bridge of your nose to your jaws, “i'm too busy being yours, there's no someone else.”
“aren't you being a little cheesy?,” a tiny smile hangs on your lips, threatening to turn into a laugh, as you play with his collars.
“can't even tell the truth now?,” it's his turn to grin, he takes your hand in his and places a soft kiss.
you can't help but let out a soft giggle at his words. it's only been a month since you two broke off, but jay still finds his way back to you, like you do too. at this moment jay's world is silent. this is the moment he's been waiting for. sober, with you, kissing you all over with a hope of a new starting. you are his vibrance, he can't afford to lose it.
“i could do anything for you. sorry i failed to make this clear earlier,” his smug expression is back on again.
“anything to come back to me?”
“anything i would die for you, fight for you,” jay confirms, and just like that his lips are back on yours again, “do you want me crawling back to you?”
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a/n — uuuhh can u guess this was kinda a hurried writing TT i'm not really satisfied with this but I hope u enjoyed it ^^ pleek lmk ^^
© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
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augustinewrites · 10 months ago
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“sorry i'm late,” you sigh, hurrying into the teacher’s lounge much later than usual. shoko’s the only one there, feet propped up on the coffee table as she flips through a medical journal. you throw your coat over the back of a chair before joining her, trying to rub the sleep from your eyes 
“morning, sunshine.” shoko chuckles, handing you a mug. “this is a double shot, but maybe i should have gotten you a triple? what kept you up last night?”
“nothing," you quickly defend.
“you sure? because i'm not above blocking all the exits until you tell me.”
“you promise not to judge?”
“not out loud.” 
you roll your eyes at your best friend, but wring your hands tightly in your lap as you recall the events of last night. “have you ever had a…a special dream–”
shoko sits up straight, eyes wide as she says, much too loud, “you mean a sex dream?”
“shh!” you swat her on the arm, glaring. 
shoko ignores your obvious distress, grinning from ear to ear. “who are you having sex dreams about? is it ijichi? akari? oh my god, is it me? is it gojo? don’t tell me it’s gojo…”
“i may have been dreaming about…kento.”
“nanami?!”
heat immediately pools in your cheeks. “you can’t tell anyone, especially gojo. and hey, don't say it like that!” 
“i swear i’m not judging!” she promises. “if anything, i approve!”
“ugh,” you groan, heading over to the counter to put your unfinished mug in the sink. “i don’t know what’s going on with me.”
“fantasizing is normal. i’ve fantasized about everyone here. you, nanami, even gojo.”
“seriously?”
she takes a sip of her coffee, shrugging. “i'm a scorpio.”
that explains nothing and in no way makes you feel any better. if anything, you’re starting to feel a little possessive over someone who isn't even yours. 
“well i need to stop thinking about him like this,” you mutter, frowning.
“back to your dream. did you guys…do it?”
“shoko!” you gasp, gaze darting to the open door.
“so you did,” she deduces. “was it good?”
it was great. not that you’d tell her. 
“hey, naughty is good. naughty is sexy,” she laughs.
you rest your hip against the counter, shaking your head. “i can’t dream of him like that again. i can’t go on missions with him if i’m having these…inappropriate thoughts.”
“why? cause you want to be his good girl?”
some clears their throat loudly. 
both your heads whip toward the door, where nanami’s standing with his briefcase. “good morning.”
as he walks further into the lounge you wonder two things. first, how much he heard. second, how much force would it take to put your head through the wall–
“excuse me.” your entire body stiffens when a hand is placed on your waist, nanami gently moving you to the side as he grabs a mug from the cabinet. 
memories of last night’s dream invade the crevices of your mind, causing you to quickly step out of his reach. with his back turned you look to shoko for help, who simply makes a circle with her thumb and index finger and–
you feign casualness when nanami turns to face you, sending you a small smile before taking his coffee and making a swift exit.
shoko bursts out laughing as you groan, wishing you could melt into the floor.
_____
“look at them. they're totally talking about us,” gojo mutters, peeking into the teacher’s lounge.
“so?” nanami asks, prying gojo’s hand from his sleeve. 
“so, what do you think they're talking about? oh– oh, shoko just pulled out her phone. maybe they're talking about the thirst trap i posted for–”
nanami grabs the back of gojo’s shirt collar, dragging him away from the door. “why would they be talking about a picture you posted for your fiancée?” 
“because i'm hot–”
“please stop talking.”
“you’re hot too, nanamin! someone’s been giving you the look lately.” 
that makes him pause. “really? what look?”
the sorcerer wriggles out of his grip, an irritatingly wide grin on his face. “got your attention, did i?”
“what did you mean by that? what look?”
“the look. you know, the one where you’re picturing someone naked. fantasizing about them. caught her once while you were cooking us dinner. speaking of, what’s that one dish you made with the…”
nanami tunes out gojo’s nonsensical rambling, focusing on the few important things he’d shared as they walk down the hall. you were picturing him naked?
interesting. 
_____
when you open the front door of your apartment, nanami is standing there with a bag of groceries and a bottle of wine.
oh no. this is how the fantasies always start. 
“i was on my way home and wondered if you’ve eaten yet.”
you’d eaten two hours ago, but you step back to let him inside and get set up in the kitchen.
soon enough, your little kitchen is filled with the sound and scents of a home cooked meal. nanami is a natural in the kitchen, tossing veggies in a pan and stirring his homemade sauce.
(it almost looks as good as nanami does with his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow, cooking dinner in your apartment.) 
you’re snapped out of your thoughts when he reaches over to refill your glass. he refills his own, covering the pot and leaving it to simmer as he turns to where you’re perched on the counter.
“i wanted to talk to you about something,” he says suddenly, sweating his glass down. 
“hm?”
“i’m not above a few fantasies of my own.”
you almost choke on your wine. “gojo told you–”
he’s standing between your knees now, taking the glass from your hand and setting it aside. “i fantasize about you too.”
“you do?”
“i could tell you about them,” he suggests, voice dropping to a whisper as the tip of his nose nudges yours. “if you’re a good girl.”
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writersrkive · 2 months ago
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Warmth | Aaron Hotchner
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summary: Your period arrived, and you are feeling like shit, but that doesn't mean you won't go to work. Your body is pleading to rest, but you are stubborn, so you act like you are fine. However, Hotch is there to take care of you.
genre: comfort pairing: Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader warnings: cramps and physical discomfort caused by menstruation, fainting.
a/n: maybe is not a good one, but I'm on my period, so let me be delulu. English is not my first language, please be kind <3.
Masterlist Spanish ver. On Wattpad (coming soon)
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When your lower back started to hurt, days prior, you knew what day of the month was getting closer. You prepare yourself, however that morning your body felt heavy, almost numb.
Walking out of bed, going to the bathroom, showering and dressing up were difficult tasks. The morning didn't go any better. You had problems with your car, the traffic was hell, and when you arrived at Quantico, fifteen minutes late, your ID wasn't in your wallet. You had to walk back to your car and go up to the floor where you worked five minutes later.
“Did you have cardio yesterday? Is that the reason why you are so late?” Derek asked, teasing, but you were not in the mood to joke with your best friend.
"Maybe I just took too long to hide the body of the rat that was bothering me last night, do you want me to show you what I did with it?" I asked, finally sitting on the chair to rest my lower back. My belly was hurting a lot.
“Uh.” Emily said and chuckled when she saw Derek's surprised expression.
“Maybe not the time.” The dark skinned whisper.
“Definitely not.” I answered. “Did Hotch…” I started, turning to JJ.
“Don't worry. He has been inside his office since we arrived. I don't think he noticed."
A few minutes later, I was leaning towards the files I had on my desk, not because I couldn't see, but because I needed to feel something warm towards my belly. My hands weren't enough, but it was all I had.
“Take this.” Spencer said, handing me some pain killers.
“Thanks, but last time I tried, they didn't work."
“Try again.” Emily said softly, understanding what was happening. “If you don't feel good, tell us.”
“Thanks, but seriously, I'm fine.”
That wasn't true though. Thank God we had just file day, because I wouldn't be able to fly in that condition. But at least I would have the opportunity to sleep a little thereby.
I needed something warm. So I stood up and walked to the mini cafeteria, where there was a coffee machine, with tea bags on the side and snacks. My tea was already prepared, I only wanted to grab a chocolate bar, but the cramps hit me, making the cup of tea almost fall from my hands.
“Hey, hey. Easy there.” That calm and velvety voice made me realise the man who I liked was now next to me, helping me by taking the cup and steadying myself with his other hand.
“Sorry, boss.” I whispered.
“What happened? Are you sick?”
“Kinda… I'm just not feeling good. You know, that day of the month.” I answered, still trying to breathe, feeling a tear of cold sweat slide down my back.
“It's okay. You need to rest. Go home.” He said with a firm, yet soft tone of voice. The team was always saying he only used that tone with me.
“I'm fine, seriously.”
I could see in his eyes that he was not convinced. “Okay, but let me know if you need something. Don't think I didn't notice that you arrived late.”
“I'm really sorry. That won't happen again.” My cheeks were probably burning, and I didn't know if it was because of my period, or the embarrassment.
“What I'm trying to say is that I know that you are not feeling good, and I will understand if you need to go back home.” He reassured me, lightly caressing the arm that still held me.
“Thanks.” I whisper.
“Here. Take this.” He handed me a warm compress that he took out of the microwave after heating it for a few minutes.
The tea and compress helped a lot, however, the painkiller didn't work. I felt like I was about to faint. The noises of our workmates, the weather, and even poor JJ's breathing was stressing me out. A break was what I needed, but I wouldn't be able to take one, so instead, I went to the bathroom. I didn't know Hotch was observing me from his seat, through the office window.
In the bathroom things weren't better. My forehead was covered in sweat, my throat felt dry and my legs and arm were about to give up. All of that was reflected on the mirror in front of me.
Someone knocked.
I opened the door and then my vision turned black. Next I remember strong arms embracing me on the floor. “That's it. I'm taking you home.” He said.
“I'm…” I tried to talk.
“No, you are not fine. Sometimes you need to hear your body and rest.” He explained gently, moving my hair out of my face. “You are going to drink water. I'm going to get your stuff and I'll take you home.” It was obvious there was no room for discussion.
“Got it, boss.” I whispered, letting myself smile on his chest. It wasn't a surprise how excited I was because he was taking care of me, even if I was feeling like shit. He was the warmth I needed.
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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 months ago
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Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask for a Barty fic. Maybe reader having a similar conversation to the “like my father part 2” but with Barty. She is insecure about never dating anyone nor having even held hands romantically and thinks she will never be loved, not even noticing Barty’s love for her but Barty explodes and confesses.
AN: I saw both of your messages and thank you so much!! I'm sorry for the wait :(! I am so glad people love this Barty as much as I do. 💕
Love me, too
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Barty Crouch Jr. x Fem! Reader
Wc: ~2.8k
Summary: Late nights with loose lipped Barty, a single conversation unraveled years of yearning.
CW: Suggestive, devoted!slightlyobsessive!Barty, both reader and Barty have some self loathing going on, non cannon complacent,
“Even Potter admitted it was too much.” Barty chuckled from where he was splayed out on your couch, head in your lap with a blissful look as you ran your fingers through his dark curls. “I don't think Evan should be drinking anymore muggle alcohol.”
“His poor pureblood body can't take it.” You sang to him, at least, that's what he heard as you gazed at him so sweetly. He had just gotten back from a late night excursion with Regulus and Evan, exploring more of what the muggle world had to offer.
“I resent that, I made it home, didn't I?” He hummed and you couldn't help but laugh at him, and he seemed to just relish in the sound.
Not that you ever noticed.
“Home? Barty, might I remind you, your flat is across the way?”
Barty’s grin widened as he shifted in your lap, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “What can I say?” He drawled, tilting his head back to look up at you. “Your couch is far superior to my bed. And let’s not even get started on your hospitality.”
“Hospitality?” You echoed with a laugh, playfully tugging at one of his curls. “Barty, you barged in here at Merlin-knows-what-hour, smelling like a distillery and complaining about Evan’s ‘pureblood constitution.’ How is that hospitality?”
He smirked, completely unbothered, and let out a satisfied hum as your fingers continued their gentle rhythm through his hair. “It’s the look in your eyes,” He teased, reaching up lazily to point a finger at you. “That soft little glare you always give me. You try so hard to act exasperated, but we both know you secretly love it.”
“Do I, now?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow as you gave his curls a particularly sharp tug. He winced- dramatically, of course- but his grin didn’t falter.
“Oh, absolutely,” He replied, his voice dipping into that smooth, confident tone he wielded like a weapon. “You’ve got a weak spot for me, darling. Admit it.”
You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, tugging upward despite your best efforts. “The only weak spot I have is for the idiot who nearly fell into my azalea bush trying to unlock my neighbor’s door.”
Barty gasped, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “That was one time,” He protested, though the way his lips twitched gave him away. “And in my defense, all these flats look the same. It’s not my fault muggles lack imagination.”
“Right,” You said with mock seriousness. “Because it’s definitely the muggles’ fault you tried to pick a fight with a bush.”
He let out a low chuckle, his hand falling back onto your knee as he relaxed further against you. “You wound me, truly,” He murmured, though the blissful look on his face told a different story. “But you’re still here, still running your fingers through my hair like I’m your favorite stray.”
You shook your head, your laughter softening into something warmer as you gazed down at him. “That word is exactly right. A stray.” You teased and he gave a low sigh as you playfully pulled at the roots of his hair again.
Barty’s grin softened as he let out a low, contented sigh, tilting his head further into your touch. But his smirk quickly returned, laced with amusement as he glanced up at you. “Speaking of strays, did you know Pandora’s getting hitched? Evan’s still in denial about it, of course. Says it’s a phase.”
“Pandora’s getting married?” You asked, your fingers pausing in his hair as your brows knit together. “To Xenophilius?”
Barty hummed, tilting his head slightly into your touch, though he noticed your pause. “Yes, to none other than Xenophilius Lovegood,” he said with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “The eccentric inventor of all things absurd. Can’t you just picture it? The two of them, in some meadow, exchanging vows under a canopy made of... I don’t know, enchanted fungi?”
You snorted despite yourself. “That actually sounds about right for them,” You admitted, though your voice had a softer, contemplative tone now.
Barty’s grin faltered slightly as he caught the shift in your expression. “You alright there, darling?” He prodded, his green eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Don’t tell me you’re about to spiral because Pandora’s beating us to the altar.”
“I’m not spiraling,” You muttered defensively, looking away from him. “I just... I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it? Everyone’s pairing off. Pandora’s getting married, Lily and James have Harry now, even Sirius seems to have a new date every other week. And here I am-”
“Perfectly ravishing and far too good for anyone who doesn’t grovel at your feet?” Barty supplied with a cheeky grin, though the warmth in his green eyes betrayed the sincerity under his playful tone.
You gave him a look, your lips twitching despite yourself. “You’re not helping.”
“Who says I’m trying to help?” He countered, though he shifted slightly to sit up, his hand resting on your knee now as he studied you more intently. “Alright, what’s really going on, darling? Spill.”
You hesitated, your gaze flicking away from his. “It’s nothing. I’m just... I guess I feel like I’m falling behind, you know? Everyone else seems to have their lives figured out, and I’m just... here.”
Barty’s smirk faded entirely, replaced by an expression you didn’t see often: genuine concern. “Falling behind?” He repeated, his voice softer now. “What are you on about? You’re you.”
“And what does that even mean?” You asked, your voice tinged with frustration. “Barty, I’m twenty-three, and I’ve never even been in a proper relationship. Everyone else is moving on, starting families, building lives, and I’m just... I don’t know. Stuck.”
“Stuck?” He echoed, his brows furrowing. “You? The woman who once dragged me into a Muggle club and convinced a room full of strangers I was an internationally famous wizard film star?”
You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, though it was short-lived. “That’s different, Barty. That was... fun. This feels bigger. Like I’m missing something.”
Barty tilted his head, his expression firm as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re not missing anything, love,” He said firmly. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. And for what it’s worth, I think the world would be a lot less interesting if you weren’t exactly as you are.”
You looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “You make it sound so easy,” You murmured.
“Because it is,” He said with a grin, though the softness in his eyes remained. “You’re comparing yourself to people whose lives are completely different from yours. Pandora and Xenophilius? They’re lovely, but they’re also... Pandora and Xenophilius. Lily and James? They’ve been attached at the hip since Hogwarts. None of that has anything to do with you.”
“And Sirius?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Even he-”
“Sirius Black is a menace who flirts with anything that moves,” Barty interrupted, his grin turning wicked. “He couldn’t hold a proper relationship if it came with instructions and a leash. And you deserve more than that.”
“Do I?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Barty’s expression softened even further, and he leaned closer, his hand still resting on your knee as he spoke. “Yes, you do,” He said firmly. “And one day, someone’s going to see that. They’re going to fall at your feet, completely and utterly unworthy of you. And you’re going to make them work for it- because that’s what you deserve. Not some half-hearted fling or rushed attempt to ‘catch up.’ Someone who sees you for exactly who you are and loves every piece of it.”
Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, feeling a warmth spread through you that wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “You’ve got a way with words, you know that?” You muttered.
Barty’s grin softened, but his eyes glinted with that signature mischief that always seemed to spark chaos wherever he went. His hand rested on your knee, and you felt the slight twitch of his fingers, like he was holding back something bigger. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then sighed dramatically, dragging a hand through his dark curls as though the weight of his thoughts was just too much.
“You know,” He started, his tone suddenly more theatrical, “I’ve got to say, darling... the idea of someone being good enough for you? It’s laughable. Laughable. Like, truly the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. And mind you, I’ve spent an evening listening to Evan try to explain the muggle concept of a toaster.”
You blinked at him, a small laugh escaping despite your growing confusion. “Barty, what are you even-?”
“No, no, don’t interrupt,” He cut in, holding up a finger with mock seriousness, though his grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Because here’s the thing: you’re not just any girl, alright? You’re not even in the same realm as the rest of us. You’re- what’s the word I’m looking for? Ethereal? Divine? A literal goddess walking among mere mortals? Yes, all of that and more.”
“Barty-”
“No!” He flung his hands up dramatically, as though warding off any protests. “You let me finish this, or so help me, I’ll combust on the spot. Now, as I was saying- goddess. Goddess. And me? What am I, huh? A stray cat on your couch. A servant in your kingdom. A bloody footman sent to fetch your tea and hope you don’t smite me with your beauty.”
You were laughing now, fully laughing, but Barty only leaned closer, his expression so full of mock tragedy it was almost convincing. “But you know what I’d do, my queen? My liege? I’d find him for you. That’s what I’d do.”
“Find who?” You asked between giggles, thoroughly lost in his spiraling monologue.
“The man!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms out so dramatically he nearly toppled off the couch. “The man who’s actually worthy of you. Because he exists somewhere, right? He has to, in some perfect alternate dimension where the universe handcraft people for each other. And you know what I’d do when I find him? I’d die, darling. I’d perish in his presence just to bring him to your doorstep. Just so you’d have someone who’s worth it. Someone who’s everything you deserve.”
“Barty,” You said, trying and failing to contain your laughter. “You’re completely mad.”
“Mad?!” he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “No, love, I’m just devoted. Devoted to the idea that your happiness is paramount in this cruel, undeserving world. And if I can’t be the one to give it to you, then I’ll march into the depths of hell to find the one who can.”
His voice softened then, the chaos settling into something quieter, more vulnerable. “Because you deserve that, you know. You deserve to have someone who sees every bit of you, even the bits you try to hide, and still thinks you hung the bloody stars.”
Your laughter faded, replaced by a warmth spreading through your chest. “Barty,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “That’s... sweet, but also completely ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” He echoed, grinning again as he leaned back dramatically. “Of course it is. Because what’s more ridiculous than me thinking I’d ever stand a chance with you?”
The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his green eyes widened slightly, like he’d just realized what he’d said. His grin faltered, and he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, well, there’s my secret out in the open. Didn’t really mean to let that slip, but here we are.”
You stared at him, your heart stuttering in your chest as his words hung in the air. “You’re serious,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, forcing a grin but unable to meet your gaze. “Completely, utterly serious. Mad as a hatter, clearly, but serious nonetheless.”
“Barty,” You began, but he waved his hand as if to dismiss your impending response.
“Don’t feel bad for me, darling,” He said, his voice lighter now, though there was a tremor underneath it. “I’ve made peace with it, you know? Loving you is like worshiping the sun. You don’t do it for the reward; you do it because you can’t help yourself.”
He leaned forward, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch, behind you, as his eyes traced your lips. It wasn't typical, no, he wasn't looking for a kiss. He was just admiring that pretty look of your smile, even as it faded to a more conflicted look. He gave an expression, one so devastated, as if your frown physically hurt him.
You stared at him, your chest tight with emotions you couldn’t quite name. His grin returned, smaller this time, almost sad. “And if you don’t find him tomorrow, or next week, or even next year,” He added, his voice almost a whisper now, “that’s fine, too. Because I’ll still be here. Sitting on your couch like the world’s most loyal stray, hoping I get to see you happy, even if it’s from a distance.”
Your heart was racing as his words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. He had laid himself bare before you, his usual bravado stripped away to reveal something far more vulnerable and honest. And in that moment, you couldn’t ignore the pull any longer.
“Barty,” You said softly, your hand reaching out to rest against his cheek. His eyes widened slightly, searching your face for any sign of mockery or rejection. When he found none, his lips parted, but no words came.
You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”
His brow furrowed. “Well, that’s a promising start,” He muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sarcasm. There was an edge of uncertainty, like he didn’t dare believe what might be coming next.
“You’re an idiot,” You repeated, leaning closer, “because you think I wouldn’t want you.”
For a moment, he looked completely and utterly lost, like the meaning of your words had short-circuited his brain. “You- wait, what?”
You didn’t give him time to recover. With a soft smile, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, testing, but the second he realized what was happening, everything changed.
Barty surged forward, his hand slipping to the back of your neck to pull you closer as his lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. His other arm wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.
When you finally pulled back for air, he was staring at you like you’d just upended his entire world. His breath was heavy, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed your face. “Say it again,” He demanded, his voice rough. “Tell me this isn’t some cruel dream I’m going to wake up from.”
You laughed softly, your fingers threading through his curls. “I want you, Barty,” You whispered, your voice steady. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Something in him seemed to snap at those words. His lips were on yours again, hotter and more demanding this time, as if he was trying to make up for all the moments he’d thought this would never happen. His hands roamed over your back, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. His fingers were rough, desperate, as if he needed to feel you, to know this was real.
“You have no idea,” He murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl. “No idea how long I’ve wanted this. How many nights I’ve stayed up thinking about you.”
“Then stop wasting time,” You teased, your own hands sliding up his chest and into his hair.
He let out a low, almost guttural laugh, his lips brushing against your jawline, your neck. “You’re gonna kill me, love.”
“Not yet,” You whined back, your voice breathless.
His response was a low growl as his lips found yours again, his kiss searing and possessive. His hands gripped your waist, lifting you onto his lap fully as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue.
“Merlin,” He murmured, his voice hoarse as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “Tell me this is real. Tell me you’re mine.”
You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands framing his face as you whispered, “I’m yours, Barty. Always.”
The intensity in his eyes burned brighter at your words, and whatever restraint he’d been clinging to crumbled entirely. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips claimed yours again, leaving no room for doubt.
This wasn’t the playful, cheeky Barty you were used to. This was something raw and unrestrained, something you’d never seen before. And it left you completely and utterly undone.
“Worth the wait.” He let out a sound- almost like a whimper- “Worth every bloody second.”
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reinevs · 2 months ago
Note
I need more ekko giving head to fem! Reader😫😫 could you include it in an anniversary celebration type of writing? Thank you and lovely regards 💓
écoute chérie 𝑒𝑘𝑘𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑒
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⟢ authors note. tysm for using my asks, hope u enjoy!!
⟢ contains. drinking, semi drunk!ekko, lots of kissing, cunnilingus, fingering, praise, slight degration, orgasm, cum eating, dom!ekko.
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it was late, the sun had just gone down and the firelights had lit a bombfire in celebration to another successful mission - or more so the fact that they hadn't lost any members of the firelights during it. As drunk firelights were eating and dancing around the big bomb fire, there was ekko - in the corner drinking from his cup and leaning on his arm, his expression neutral and unreadable. "you just plan to sit here all alone?" a familiar voice asked, making ekko look up into your soft eyes with a tired expression. "oh come on, are you really that tired?" you chuckled, pushing one of his locs out of his face to see him better as he sighed, rolling his big brown eyes.
"should I ask what's bothering you?" you asked softly, a small smirk on your face as you sat down next to him on the picnic table, your elbows resting against the table as you watched the other firelights and the bombfire. "I don't know, I just feel like there's too much to do to be celebrating like this..." he sighs, folding his arms as he turned around, facing the bombfire with his back resting against the table. "you're such a leader." you chuckled, softly looking back over at him. "you know you can relax for just one night right?"
he looked over at you, you felt his eyes look over your body before looking back up to your eyes. "you think I should relax?" He scoffed as you narrowed your eyes at him. "don't scoff at me, I'm worried about you dumbass." you said, playfully shoving his arm as he sighed, "you're right, sorry..." he trailed off, looking back up at you. "wanna get out of here?" he asked, his voice quiet and soft as he looked directly at you. something in your stomach tingled at his direct eye contact, but you didn't let it show too much. "you wanna ditch your own party?" you chuckled a bit, not taking him seriously.
he leaned his head back, some of his hair falling away from his face. "I guess so." he said, a small smirk on his lips as he looked over at you. "I just want a distraction." you bit the inside of your cheek, looking away from him and back at the fire as you were inside your own head. the truth was, you were stressed out too - just because you didn't lose any firelights doesn't mean it wasn't a dangerous and stress provoking mission. you nodded softly, "alright, let's get out of here." you said, looking back over at him, his smirk widening a little bit as he nodding, standing up with you as he led you up the stairs of the treehouse into his room.
as the door shut behind him, he took a sip of his drink, letting out a sigh as you looked over his room. it looked different than you remembered it, more papers and blueprints for firelight gadgets or hoverboard fixes scattered across his work bench and even some hung up on his wall. "you're quite the busy bee." you chuckled, softly running your hands down the papers as you looked them over. he just shrugged, "you haven't been in here in months..." he said softly, his voice getting closer behind you before you felt his hands softly slide down your waist.
you let out a soft, satisfied sigh as you leaned your head back against his shoulder, looking back over at him as his lips connected to your neck, placing small kisses on the sensitive skin. "I guess it's been a little while..." you said softly, tilting your head to the side to give him better access as you felt him smile softly against your skin, his kisses becoming more rough against your neck as he softly bit down on the flesh. you gripped his work bench as he gently pushed his body against the back of yours, his hand gripping your hip and pulling it closer to him as the other rested on your waist. he softly moved some of your hair over as he pulled his head back, admiring the red spots he left on your neck as he rubbed his thumb over them.
you gently looked back at him, watching as he smiled slightly. "I've missed you... I've missed having you like this." he said softly, gently pushing a bit of your hair behind your ear as he leaned into your lips before slowing at the last second. his lips were barely touching yours before you softly leaned in, capturing his lips softly as you brought your hand to his cheek, cupping it in your hand. he smiled into the kiss as he softly pulled you closer by the back of your head, deepening the kiss as he led you towards his bed. the back of your legs hit his bed frame, making you stop as he gently laid you down, hovering over you as he kissed you once more.
"I've missed you too..." you said softly, before kissing him again, his tongue softly pushing into your mouth as you let him. he made out with you a little bit before gently pulling back, taking the hems of his shirt and pulling it over his head, letting it fall to the floor as he softly grabbed your hand and ran your hand down his chest. you looked up at him before your eyes trailed down to his bare chest, you softly reached down to his lower hip, rubbing small circles on his flesh. he smiled down at you before leaning down and kissing on your neck once again, this time the opposite side. "you're so beautiful..." he whispered as you quietly moaned under his touch.
his body leaned down further into yours, he trailed his kisses down from your neck to your collarbone, giving small kisses before gently biting and sucking on the sensitive skin. you leaned your head back, the tingling in your leg and stomach making you squirm slightly under him. he chuckled softly, sliding his thigh between yours as he trailed his hands down, his kisses getting lower and lower on your body.
he trailed down, caressing your bare hips as he placed open mouth kisses on your flesh. he paused at the waistband of your pants, gently rubbing both your hips, "lift." he said lowly, looking up at you softly. you swallowed, nodding as you propped yourself up on your elbows and lifted your hips for him. he softly pulled your pants down, kissing your thighs and down your to your knees before pulling them completely off.
he slid down your panties and tossed them on the floor, leaning down to kiss you, his tongue pushing into your mouth gently. he continued kissing you passionately before softly pulling away and positioning himself between your legs, looking up at you with an intense and lustful gaze. he could feel your legs trembling as he hooked them over his shoulders, his hands gripping your thighs possessively. "shh, relax baby..." he smiled softly, pressing soft kisses on your pussy before dragging his tongue up your slit.
you looked down at him, your chest rising and falling as his tongue traced gentle circles around your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. he kept his eyes locked on yours, his gaze burning with hunger and affection as he devoured you slowly and thoroughly, his fingers gently spreading your lips apart to give him better access. "fuck, just like that..." you moaned softly, balling the sheets in your fist as you looked down at him.
"like this?" he whispered between gentle licks, his fingers trailing up your thighs. "such a pretty sight when you're like this..." he continued his steady pace, savoring every moment, occasionally looking up to watch your expressions. "ekko, please..." you looked down softly, holding back your moans as you bit your inner cheek. you leaned your head back, breathing heavy as your fingers tangled in the silky sheets.
he smiled softly as he saw you bite your inner cheek to hold back your moans, thinking that it was the cutest thing he'd ever seen. he hooked your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "look at me," he commanded softly, his tongue delving in and out slowly. you looked down at him, your chest rising and falling as you held his lustful gaze.
he held your gaze, his own eyes burning with desire as he continued to eat you out slowly. "so fucking beautiful," he murmured, his voice muffled by your pussy. "I could look at you like this all day." he pressed a kiss to your clit before looking back up at you. you breathed heavy, a soft tingle in your stomach as he praised you. he slipped his middle finger into your pussy, your wetness making it easy as he curled it to hit that sweet spot inside you. his tongue pressing firmly against your clit and moving in small circular motions.
you swallowed as you looked down at him, your breathing heavy as your stomach tingled more than before, your chest rising and falling with every movement he made. he slipped another finger inside of you, his thumb replacing his tongue in your clit as his pace increased slightly. his fingers moved in and out while his thumb pressed firmly against your clit. "come for me, beautiful," he whispered, his warm breath against your sensitive skin. "show me how much you like it when I finger you like this..."
you tilted her head back, fighting the urge to roll your eyes back as you let out a moan, gripping the sheets tightly as you looked back down to his lustful gaze. "shit ekko, you're gonna make me cum..." she moaned softly. he looked up at you with soft and lustful eyes, mesmerized as your face contorted in pleasure. his fingers curled inside you, hitting that spot over and over until your body finally gave in. "there it is," he murmured, his fingers slowing their pace as he felt your inner walls clench around them.
you bit your lip harshly as your thighs shook and your stomach sunk in, your knuckles turned white as you gripped the sheets, moaning his name as you came.
he smirked as he continued his gentle pace, feeling satisfied and proud at being able to bring you to this state. seeing your knuckles white and lips bitten made his heart race faster. he placed tender kisses on your inner thighs as you rode out your orgasm. "that's right," he whispered, his fingers slowly withdrawing. "shhh..."
you breathed heavy as he pulled his fingers completely out, slipping them into his mouth as he licked them clean, making your stomach flutter as he crawled up to you. he kissed you passionately, his tongue pushing into your mouth as you could taste yourself on him. he kissed you deeper, his hand gently resting on your collarbone and coming up to hold your neck as your tongues slid against each other passionately.
you both parted to catch your breath as he smiled down at you, tilting your chin up to look you in the eyes. "you're so beautiful... your pleasure is my pleasure." he smiled softly, leaning down and kissing you once more as you smiled into the kiss.
Tuesday, December 10th, 2024
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N4ViG4TiON! ★ ; taglist ⋆ masterlist
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© REINEVS WORKS | TUMBLR
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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago
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Code Love
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Hyunjin x fem!reader
Warnings: nothing!!
Genre: colleagues to lovers, flufffff
Summary: Hyunjin is a brilliant post doc at the lab where you're perusing your PhD. He is such a sweet and sexy genius, and you are completely in love.
a/n : For all my science/research girlies 🤭
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It was another late night at the lab. You were squinting at the test tubes in front of you trying to make sense of the results. But you were struggling to concentrate with the way your heart was pounding.
He was just sitting there, at his workstation, effortlessly spinning a pipette between his long, elegant fingers. Nothing for your dramatic heart to pound like that.
“Did you hear me, Y/N?” Hyunjin’s soft voice cut through your thoughts.
“Huh?” you blinked, attempting to act like you hadn’t just been imagining how those fingers would feel on your - never mind.
“I said,” Hyunjin grinned, “you’re incubating that reaction too long.”
“Oh, um, I knew that” you fumbled with the timer, cheeks heating up. “Totally knew that. Thanks, Hyunjin.”
“Sure, no problem,” he said, eyes sparkling like he enjoyed watching you unravel.
God, why was he like this?
That face? Those lips? And that brain? This was unfair. He had to have some flaw - how can a man be this perfect?
“Are you staying late tonight?” he asked casually, leaning back in his chair.
“I have to,” you mumbled. “This experiment is dragging on, and I have to submit the report by the end of the week.”
Hyunjin hummed, and said, “Oh good, I'll have some company then.”
You could literally see him doodling flowers into his book - he had nothing to do here. But yet every time you had to stay in late, he'd be hanging around too. Just the two of you.
Your brain immediately betrayed you, fueling your wild fantasy where he wasn’t staying late for work but because he secretly wanted to spend time alone with you. You were fighting so hard to maintain a shred of professionalism, but it was so hard when he was looking at you like that.
Hyunjin hummed softly under his breath as he continued to doodle, the sound sending tingles down your spine. Of course he was a good singer too. You just didn't understand what the universe even wanted from you anymore.
---
“I swear to God, Ji, if he twirls that pipette one more time, I’m going to launch myself across the lab bench, and just -” You were sprawled on the sofa in Jisung's apartment, sighing dramatically.
Jisung was your work bestie, working in the lab next door to yours. And he was the only one in the world who knew about your extreme devotion to Hyunjin.
Jisung burst out laughing, as he said, “This is bad, babe,”
“Bad? Jisung, I seriously can't even think when he's around.” you said. “Oh my God!!”
“Have you considered just telling him you like him?” Jisung smirked.
“Right, and ruin the perfectly good thing we have going where I pine silently while he ruins me with his brilliance? No, thank you.”
“You’re hopeless.”
---
The next late-night session happened way too soon, where Hyunjin wandered over to your bench, peering at your data from over your shoulder. He leaned in close, the scent of cologne (or whatever pheromones that he's sending your way) invading your senses - it's simply intoxicating.
“Want me to take a look at that?” he asked, “You've been spending way too much time on it.”
“Yeah,” you muttered, trying not to stutter. “It’s just...a lot of noise in the data.”
“Let me see,” he said, pulling a stool next to you. He reached for the keyboard, and your heart fluttered as his fingers brushed yours.
You wanted to cry. Please don't be so sweet and sexy at the same time, you begged internally. You cursed your body for betraying you with every glance while he explained what he was doing. You could feel the tension in your shoulders as you tried to focus on what he was saying.
Get a grip, Y/N, you reminded yourself. This is professional. Stop fantasizing about this ridiculously hot man who’s inexplicably obsessed with helping you.
When he finally looked up, you realized you’d been staring at him the whole time.
“What?” he asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
“Nothing... thanks. You’re really good at this,” you stammered.
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment.
“You’re good at this too, Y/N. We all have our bad days. Don’t sell yourself short.” he said, patting your shoulder gently before standing up.
You felt your heart squeeze at the sincerity in his tone, and you watched as he went back to his own seat.
Stop it. He’s being nice. Don’t read into it. Just focus on the work.
But it was so hard not to read into it. The way he leaned closer when he spoke, the way his fingersa brushed against yours when he passed you something, and the way he was always so soft with you.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.
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“Y/N, I’m begging you. BEGGING. Tell him. I'm sure he's dying to hear it.” Jisung said, smiling at the girl who handed over our coffees at the cafe.
“You don’t get it! I can't risk it, if he's just being nice, then -”
“Babe,” Jisung drawled, “what world do you live in?!”
“Don’t give me hope, Ji.” you sighed as you walked towards your lab, the early morning breeze cool against your skin.
“Hope? The man stays late every time you do, flirts with you nonstop, and compliments you after he does your work for you. At this point, I’m falling for him,” Jisung said, throwing his hands up. “Seriously, babe, if you don’t jump him soon, I might.”
---
The cold room was your least favorite part of the lab. You hated everything about it - the freezing temperature, its claustrophobic size and the damn protein extraction procedure that drained the life out of you.
But here you were, miserably clutching your samples and praying for the nightmare to end soon.
“Y/N?” Hyunjin’s voice echoed through the door as it opened, and you turned to see him stepping in.
Great. Now you were cold and flustered.
“How's the extraction going?” he asked, his tone light as he slipped on his gloves.
“Going wonderfully,” you muttered, shivering despite your layers.
He grinned, coming closer and watching you work.
“Do you want me to take over?” He asked, making you sigh.
“And miss out on the joy of freezing to death? Never,” you joked weakly, and Hyunjin laughed. “You're too nice, Hyunjin. But I've got this.”
“Nice?” he repeated, leaning back slightly but still watching you intently. “You sure about that?”
You froze, suddenly way too aware of how close he was standing. Was he teasing you? Was this flirting?
“I- I mean, yeah,” you stammered, breaking eye contact. “You’re always helping me...”
“Maybe I have my reasons.” Hyunjin tilted his head, his smile softening.
Your heart leapt into your throat as you asked, “Reasons?”
Before he could answer, the door swung open.
“How's your favorite experiment going?” Jisung's loud voice floated in. “Oh, hi Hyunjin!”
You didn't know if you wanted to strangle Jisung for ruining the moment or hug him for saving you from it.
Hyunjin, ever the sweetheart, just laughed and said, “Hi Jisung, I think she's doing just fine,”
“Of course she is,” Jisung said, moving aside for Hyunjin to step out.
“What was that?” He asked as soon as Hyunjin left.
“What are you doing here?!” you hissed. “We were getting somewhere, but also, if you hadn't come I would've fainted. Like I feel so dizzy, my gloves are all wet from sweating-”
“Y/N,” Jisung said, gripping your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “You like him. He obviously likes you. The universe is literally freezing you together in this cold room to force you to act. Next time, please -”
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It was barely 5 am, and you groaned as you shuffled into the lab, your hair in a messy bun and sleep still stinging your eyes. But the bacterial cultures didn’t care about your sleep schedule - or lack thereof.
Throwing on your lab coat and gloves with the grace of a zombie, you started checking the growth plates with bleary eyes.
You’d barely managed to finish when Jisung strolled in, carrying two steaming cups of coffee.
“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he teased, setting a cup in front of you.
“I love you, Ji,” you muttered, taking the first sip and feeling a spark of life return to your body. “I don't know why I wanted to be a scientist.”
Jisung plopped down next to you, snickering, and started scrolling through his phone while you leaned your head against his shoulder. And he rested his head against yours, before placing a quick peck on your temple.
You were starting to fall asleep, when the lab door creaked open.
You both glanced up to see Hyunjin walk in. His cheeks were pink from the cold and he stopped at the door for a second, his eyes fixed on you.
“Morning,” he greeted, and you gave him a small wave, still too sleepy to form words. Jisung returned the greeting, and then left quickly.
You noticed Hyunjin’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. That's new. He moved to his workstation, setting down his bag and pulling out his laptop.
You sat up straighter, something about Hyunjin’s silence gnawing at you. He didn’t even glance your way, which was unusual.
Hyunjin, meanwhile, was battling a whirlwind of emotions. He knew you and Jisung were close friends - you’d mentioned it so many times. But seeing the way your head rested against his shoulder and Jisung had kissed your temple - it just looked way too intimate. Too cosy.
He hated feeling this way, especially when you weren’t his to begin with. Still, the disappointment twisted in his chest and he didn't know what to do about it. So he focused on his work.
But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his gaze from drifting back to you.
---
You let it go on till about noon. But it was killing you - you weren't used to this kind of behavior from Hyunjin and it was starting to stress you out. So summoning your courage, you walked over to Hyunjin and said, “Hey,”
He glanced up, his expression neutral as he said, “Hey.”
“You okay?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. “You're so...quiet.”
“I’m fine. Just a lot on my mind.” Hyunjin said, giving you a small smile.
“You sure?” you pressed, feeling a strange pang of hurt.
He nodded, but his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah. Don’t worry about me.”
You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. He was being so distant, and it left a strange, hollow ache in your chest. Finally, you gave him a small nod and walked back to your seat, feeling totally crushed by his uncharacteristic coolness.
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Hyunjin’s silence stretched into the next day. And the day after that. In fact he hadn't spoken more than a couple of words to you in the past two days. And it hurt so much, considering the fact that you don't even know why he was doing this all of a sudden.
You tried to brush it off at first. Maybe he was just busy, or stressed. But the space he was putting between you felt deliberate, like he was doing this on purpose.
Hyunjin, on the other hand, was crumbling inside. He adored you. And that too for long enough that the thought of losing you was nearly unbearable.
You and Jisung were so close. And you looked so comfortable. He couldn't take it. He wasn't going to let his heart shatter like that.
So, he’d made a decision: if he couldn’t have you, he’d rather step back than risk the heartbreak of watching you fall for someone else. Even if it meant burying his feelings.
---
The next morning, you were back in the cold room. You’d been trying to salvage your protein extraction for hours, but nothing was going right. Your hands were trembling as you loaded yet another sample, and your vision blurred with tears of frustration.
“This is so stupid,” you whispered to yourself, your voice cracking. “Why can’t anything just go right for once?”
You sniffled, wiping your cheek with your sleeve, as you continued your monologue.
“I just want my Jinnie back. Why does he hate me now? What did I do wrong?” your voice wavered as you spoke through your tears.
What you didn't see was that the cold room door had opened quietly, and Hyunjin had stepped inside. He froze at the sound of your voice, his chest tightening at the sadness in your words.
Your Jinnie?
Your name slipped from his lips, soft and hesitant, “Y/N?”
You stiffened, your body freezing and your heart racing as you heard his voice.
“What?” you croaked, refusing to turn around, too mortified to meet his eyes.
“Why are you crying?” Hyunjin asked, taking a step closer.
You shook your head, refusing to face him.
“Why do you care?” You asked, and it broke his heart to see you wipe your tears.
“Please don't say that, of course I care-”
“It’s nothing. Just this stupid experiment. And... everything else.”
“Y/N,” he said again, his voice firmer now. “Please. Talk to me.”
You gripped the edge of the table, your knuckles turning white.
“I can’t do this anymore, Hyunjin,” you whispered. “I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. You won't even talk to me, and it’s killing me. I just... I just want my Hyunjinnie back. Just stop hurting me like this.”
The silence that followed was deafening. You felt the tears spill over again, your shoulders trembling as you waited for him to say something. Anything.
And then you felt it.
Warmth. His strong arms wrapping around you from behind, his chest pressing against your back as he pulled you into a tight embrace.
You gasped softly, frozen for a moment before leaning into him, your tears falling freely now.
“I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in your shoulder. “I’m so, so sorry.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face.
“Why are you mad at me?” you asked. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No,” he said quickly, his hold on you tightening. “It wasn’t you. It was me. I was scared.”
“Scared of what?”
“Of losing you,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “I thought... I thought you and Jisung -”
“Jisung?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. “You know he’s my best friend, Hyunjin. He's like a brother to me.”
“I thought I was protecting myself,” he admitted, his lips close to your ear. “I thought I’d lose you to Jisung, and I couldn’t handle it. But I didn’t realize... I didn’t realize I was hurting you in the process.”
“I can't believe you never saw me thirsting over you, Hyunjin” you said, your voice incredulous. “What are you even saying?!”
Hyunjin let out a shaky laugh, burying his face into your neck. “God, I’m an idiot.”
“You are,” you sniffled, though your tone was softer now.
He pulled back just enough to turn you around, his hands gently cupping your cheeks.
“I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you for so long. And I was so scared- ” he stopped short as he saw the look on your face.
“You... you love me?”
“I adore you,” he said, giving you a shy smile.
You let out a breathless laugh, the weight on your chest lifting for the first time in days.
“I love you too, Hyunjin. So damn much.”
His smile widened, and before you could say another word, he asked, “Can I... can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” you whispered, and when his lips met yours, it was the most beautiful thing in the world. He kissed you so softly (even though you just wanted to eat him up.)
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You both stepped out of the cold room together, the door clicking shut behind you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen from the kiss, and as you glanced at Hyunjin, you saw he was in no better shape.
You didn't get to take another step forward as the door to your lab opened and Jisung's head popped in.
His eyes flicked between you and Hyunjin and you could hear the gears turning in his head as he tried to piece together what he was seeing. And then he smirked.
You glared at him, because you know that look on his face, and Hyunjin just stood there, his arms crossed and a smile that said “I got what I wanted".
“Congratulations,” Jisung said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m so happy for you both. But oh my god, you two idiots…”
The grin on his face was priceless. He was enjoying this way too much.
“I swear, if you don’t shut up -” You swatted him on the arm.
Jisung winced dramatically but couldn’t hide his laughter.
“What? You guys make an adorable couple... but honestly, you both are just so dumb.”
Well, you couldn't agree more.
Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght
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bangtan-junkie · 18 days ago
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Dissonance (Part 2) | JJK
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Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (f)
Part 1, Part 2
Genre/Tags: coworker!JK, enemies to lovers, smutttttt, slow burn (ish?), ANGST
Word Count: 6799 words
Synopsis:
After being left alone and humiliated on the floor of a dirty bar bathroom by Jungkook, you had to pick yourself up off the ground (literally). You had to get even, embarrass him like he'd done to you. Maybe you were mean to him before, but you were about to become a nightmare to humble this man. Unfortunately for you, your anger was short sighted, while Jungkook's wasn't. So you never predicted how your plans might backfire on you...
Note:
it's finally fucking here omg. ik it's super late but i'm finally decently satisfied with this. i'm looking forward to writing part 3 bc that's where the tension finally breaks and y'all aren't even ready for the revenge y/n gets lol. i hope y'all enjoy this and it lives up to part 1! i'd love to know your thoughts, if you're still pissed with jk lol, and any suggestions or requests are always welcome! chatting with you guys is my fav part <3
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dread consumed your senses from the moment you woke up. The weekend had passed, but your chest still burned with rage at the thought of having to see Jungkook again. You hadn't even noticed the time go by over the last two days, too busy seething in your own anger. If you hated Jungkook before, you loathed him now. You forced composure as you got dressed for work. Jungkook already had the upper hand when he'd left you in the bar bathroom. He knew that you'd seen him with the girl afterwards too. You couldn't even think about whether he'd went home with her that night without being sick. After all that, the last thing you wanted was for him to think he had any kind of effect on you. You were going to go back to work with pride and confidence. At least you wanted to.
When you finally got to work, you made a beeline for your desk, pointedly not looking for Jungkook. As you settled in, one of your coworkers stopped by your desk.
"Oh hey Y/n, you feeling any better?" he asked. Your head whipped up, a gentle voice ripping you away from your resentful thoughts. You looked up at him in confusion, eyes settling on his red hair. "From Friday? You left early because you weren't feeling well?"
"Oh, right," you cleared your throat. Just then, you saw Jungkook's unmistakable figure from the corner of your eye. He was talking to someone but you could feel his eyes boring into you. Your blood began to boil but you forced yourself to stay calm. You refused to indulge him at all. "I'm feeling much better actually, thanks Jimin," you replied, shooting your coworker a sweet smile. Jimin was your acquaintance in the office; someone you could actually stand in that place. He was always kind and helpful which automatically made him better than 70% of the people there. Even though you hung out in the same circles, you never really became close friends. Probably because you were always more focused on how annoying Jungkook was whenever you were out. And you were doing it again. You made conversation to force any thoughts of him out of your mind.
"How does your hair seem more red every time I see you?" you asked with a light-hearted laugh.
"I can't be caught slacking. I put in a lot of work to keep this hair ya know," he smiled back at you.
"I still don't know how you got permission from the boss for that," you gestured to his hair. "I asked before and she shut me down so fast." Jimin laughed at the annoyed expression on your face, finding it endearing.
"I guess I'm just that charming," he shrugged, holding back a chuckle. You couldn't help but snicker. Jimin's jokes weren't that different from Jungkook's, but he wasn't obnoxious about it. Jungkook obviously believed his jokes and thought he was god's gift to the world, which made him insufferable. Jimin, on the other hand, didn't take his jokes too seriously and wasn't constantly flirting with anything that moved.
Jungkook, who was barely listening to the person talking to him, had heard your exchange with Jimin. He felt annoyance build in his chest. He knew that if he'd made the same joke, you would've been rolling your eyes and making fun of him. So why were you giggling when Jimin said it? He tried to distract himself by trying to focus on the conversation he was supposed to be having.
A quick chat with Jimin later, you turned back to your desk. You made the mistake of looking up and caught Jungkook's gaze. He looked at you, an indifferent look on his face. He wasn't sure what he was expecting; maybe you'd look away in embarrassment, maybe you'd glare at him angrily. But what he didn't expect was the cold, empty look you gave him - like you were looking right through him, like he wasn't even there. His brows furrowed for a quick second, even more annoyed now. You went right back to work.
That's how the next few days went by. Every time Jungkook was remotely in your vicinity, you'd look through him without ever acknowledging him. If he even tried to walk your way, you left the room immediately. At first, Jungkook thought you were just being childish. But when you regained your confidence after a few days, he knew that you weren't through with him just yet. If he thought your insults were bad before, the newfound loathing you had for him made things ten times worse. It started with you amplifying the spite in your voice when you insulted him for his work. You refused to speak with him directly either, so all the insults were being thrown indirectly and in front of your other coworkers. With every second this continued, Jungkook felt his patience running thin. But if you were stubborn, so was he. He kept up your little game by firing back with his usual sarcastic or flirty remarks. Internally, he was burning with fury, just like you wanted him to.
All the animosity and anger eventually came to its boiling point when you crossed the line for the last time. You had walked to your desk that morning to find that your boss had paired you and Jungkook on the next project. Your skin crawled at the idea of having to work with him over the next few weeks. Part of you wondered if Jungkook had something to do with this. Thinking about him getting your boss on board with making you his partner for this big project was only adding to the fire that was spreading through your body. You already hated the way your boss melted around him, but to think that he could manipulate her to this level? After spiraling for a few minutes, you forced yourself to take deep breaths. You had to remind yourself that you were jumping to conclusions and then convince yourself not to march over to Jungkook's desk and give him a piece of your mind. You tried to get back to work, but all you could think about were what reasonable excuses you could make to get out of this situation. The rest of your morning was spent racking your mind. With no luck, you decided to join your coworkers for lunch; hoping that it would give you a distraction.
Unluckily for you, Jungkook walked into the staff lunchroom soon after, only to find you and some of your other coworkers chatting around the coffee machine. Well, they were chatting and you were busy glaring him down from the second he stepped into the room. Your dark eyes peered at him over the rim of your mug as you sipped your coffee. You knew that there was no way in hell he was going to approach you to talk about this. The solution to your problem practically fell into your lap when you zoned back in to the conversation around you. If he really did get the boss to put you on the project with him, you'd make him regret that decision.
"I can't believe you got that huge project Y/n! You're so lucky," one of them said, playfully pouting.
"Talk about lucky," someone else chimed in, "You even get to work with Jungkook. But I guess that isn't so lucky for you." They laughed lightly, poking fun at you. Clearly they hadn't noticed that Jungkook was in the room, listening.
"Everyone here knows how much you hate him, even the boss. Really, what was she thinking pairing you guys up?" They continued to laugh at your misery. But you weren't annoyed. Instead, your mind lit up with the perfect way to get under Jungkook's skin in that moment. The second he saw the way your eyes lit up, he knew he was in for it. Jungkook prided himself on the fact that everyone liked him and thought highly of him. So what better way to get your revenge and get him to kick you off the project than to take that away from him?
"Yeah," you said skeptically, "She's never paired us up before." You continued to stare directly at Jungkook. Your coworkers looked at you with confusion and amusement.
"What changed this time?" Jimin's voice rang through the room as he walked in to join you. He'd already spotted Jungkook in the other corner of the room, and he saw the dark glint in your eyes. It was clear to him that you were up to something. So he helped you out by stirring the pot a little. Jungkook squinted his eyes at you, annoyed at seeing Jimin again and wondering where you were going with this.
"I think Jungkook really wanted this project," you answered. "And it's easy to get whatever you want when you're fucking the boss," you said, not breaking eye contact for a second. Gasps erupted across the circle as they all looked at you in disbelief. Jimin's brows raised and he scoffed, slightly taken aback that you were making that accusation. But you were more focused on Jungkook's reaction. The look on his face was beyond furious. His eyes darkened and you saw the tick in his jaw as he clenched it.
"Wait, you really think so?" one of them asked, everyone already engrossed in the gossip.
"He is a manwhore," you shrugged. Jimin stifled his laugh, not wanting to be too mean to Jungkook. You finally looked away from Jungkook and back at the group. "And he always gets the good projects. Boss doesn't favour anyone else like that." Your coworkers immediately started gossiping amongst themselves, making random connections because what you said made sense. Some of them already started getting riled up, thinking that their opportunities had been snatched by Jungkook through the boss. You obviously didn't know for sure whether Jungkook was sleeping with your boss or not. But you didn't have to. You just had to plant the idea and you knew your coworkers would jump to conclusions.
"You must be really pissed at him," Jimin whispered, leaning back against the counter. You felt Jungkook's eyes glaring daggers at you but you paid him no attention.
"I promise he had it coming," you whispered back, a devious smirk settling on your lips.
"Remind me to never get on your bad side," he chuckled. You just shot him a smirk. When you glanced back at Jungkook, you barely caught him walking out the door. You didn't know what you were expecting. Maybe you wanted him to lose his shit in front of everyone, or yank you out of the room with him. So the disappointment you felt only annoyed you more. By the time you finished your lunch and made your way back to your desk, you already began hearing whispers about Jungkook and your boss. For a moment, you wondered if this was crossing the line. Definitely. But so was getting you to blow him and ditching you in that bathroom. Now you're even. You couldn't help but smile, knowing that he must be seething about the rumours.
A couple hours later, you were being called to your boss' office to discuss the new project she'd assigned you and Jungkook. You reluctantly grabbed your things and made your way there. You couldn't keep in your scoff when you saw Jungkook already there, making your boss giggle about god knows what. Your boss cleared her throat as she noticed you in the doorway, peeling herself off her desk from how far she was leaning forward towards Jungkook. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Way to be subtle.
"Y/n," she announced, "Come, sit down." You forced a smile as you sat down in the chair next to Jungkook. He didn't say anything to you, didn't even bother looking at you. Just being in his proximity was pissing you off, especially since he had nothing to say to you. Obviously he couldn't say anything in front of the boss, but you wanted to see that you'd made him just as angry as he'd made you. Maybe all this rage was clouding your mind and judgement...but who cares?
You pulled out your pen and began taking notes as she started talking about the project. Despite hating working with Jungkook, you weren't going to let that ruin your work on this project. You rolled your eyes when you saw that he wasn't taking notes at all. Of course. As your boss began wrapping up the conversation, you gathered your things again, getting up to leave.
"Listen you two," she started, her tone changing. You raised your brows and sat down, curious what she had to say. "I know you don't like working together, but this is an important project. So please, put your feelings aside and work on this together." You scoffed, forgetting to keep your composure. That's when Jungkook finally looked at you. His eyes were fiery but he looked vaguely amused that you had the courage to scoff at the boss. Your boss was also looking at you expectantly, waiting for an explanation. That was all you needed to decide that maybe you weren't even with him just yet.
"Sorry, but it's not about feelings. Our work ethics don't match. I'd rather work on this alone," you said, straightening your back as you felt like you were in the spotlight. Your boss didn't look too happy.
"This isn't a one person project Y/n," she pointed out.
"I know, but it would honestly be easier to do the work myself instead of having to chase him around, begging him to get anything done." The amusement quickly disappeared from Jungkook's face.
"Excuse me?" he finally spoke. You ignored him.
"Maybe we can switch him out for someone who's actually focused on their work instead of flirting," you boldly stated. Your boss scoffed in disbelief.
"What is your problem? Do you think I want to work with you?" Jungkook spat, just about done with your shit. He shifted in his chair to face you, one hand gripping the armrest hard enough to see the whites of his knuckles. Oh now he had something to say.
"You're lucky to be working on this with me. Or else this project would've gone to shit," you retorted with an equal amount of spite.
"There's a reason I'm on this project Y/n. Because I'm good at my job. So if you're letting your personal feelings affect your professionalism, you need to get a grip." His words stung but you refused to accept that there was some truth to them. He was giving you a taste of your own medicine; humiliating you in front of your boss like you were doing to him. All your self control and common sense went out the window when you felt that embarrassment.
"Yeah, that's why you're on this project," you said sarcastically, referring to the rumour you'd started a few short hours ago. You could practically see his nostrils flare as he willed himself to keep his mouth shut.
"You're out of line Y/n," your boss jumped in. She hadn't heard the rumours yet, but she could clearly see that Jungkook didn't like the implications of what you had said. "I don't care whether you two like each other or not. You will put aside...whatever this is...and work together on this, and that's final," she said firmly. Irritation coursed through you, seeing her take Jungkook's side yet again.
"Yes ma'am," you barely grit through your teeth. You'd be darned if you got fired over Jungkook. You quickly stood up and left, rushing to the file room for a moment to cool down. It was the only place you could get some silence - no one ever really stepped into the filing room because most of your work was stored digitally anyways. You pressed your back to one of the metal cabinets, sliding down to crouch as the door slowly shut. You took some deep breaths to calm down. If you went back out there now, you would rip someone's head off. How did Jungkook have the audacity to continue being a dick to you? You knew you'd without a doubt crossed the line back there, but despite that, you didn't feel even with him yet. After a few moments of dragging your mind away from these thoughts, you took one last deep breath and stood back up. You straightened your skirt and fixed your hair. Since you were already there, you decided to grab some files you needed for the project before going back out there. You turned around, pulling a drawer open and digging through the files before you found them. Just as you pulled them out, you heard the door open behind you. You already knew who it was, getting a waft of his cologne. Your heart already began beating faster, not knowing what to anticipate. There was a beat of silence as the door slowly shut.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jungkook grit through his teeth, trying to keep his voice down. You didn't bother turning around or replying to him. Any semblance of self control he had left snapped when you didn't even acknowledge him. With three quick strides, he was right behind you, pressing you face flat against the cabinets. He yanked one of your hands behind your back, making you drop your files. You yelped as his entire body caged you in, slight panic rising in your chest.
"You don't get to ignore me now," he snapped, voice low. "You haven't shut the fuck up for the last few days, don't start now." He yanked your arm down further so he could hold your wrist with one hand. You groaned at the ache, but decided against complaining about it. His anger was palpable; you could practically feel it seeping through your skin, igniting your own fury. In the shock of the moment, you'd almost forgotten that Jungkook wasn't the only one with reason to be upset. This was all a consequence of his insanely disrespectful behaviour, and he had the nerve to be mad at you now?
"What is it? What's got you so fucking riled up, hmm?" He sounded bewildered, gritting the words through his teeth. The more he pressed against you, the harder it got to ignore the heat building in you. An ugly satisfaction was creeping through you seeing the way you'd managed to get under his skin. This was what you wanted; to see that you'd affected him.
"Didn't get enough cock last time? That it?" he growled, bending down next to your ear. His words pierced right through you, as if he knew exactly which buttons to press.
"Fuck you," you spat before you could compose yourself. You strained in his hold, your arm coming up to elbow him in the ribs. To your dismay, Jungkook predicted your move and held you tighter, keeping you still.
"I thought it'd be enough to keep you satiated for at least a week. But you're just a cock hungry whore hm? " he taunted, his lips grazing your ear and sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. "I should've fucked your throat a little harder. Wouldn't be able to lie about me to everyone - including our boss - then, would you?" Despite the bitterness in his voice, your body reacted to his words. Your mind was scolding itself for the rush of arousal that coursed through you. How was he still affecting you like this?
You shook your head clear. No. He wasn't going to have his way this time.
"Lie? I haven't lied about anything," you replied with a snarky tone. Jungkook chuckled in disbelief. He quickly flipped you around so you were forced to face him. You didn't hesitate to meet his ravenous gaze with your own.
"No? So you really think I'm sleeping with the boss?" he asked, tone getting serious. You shrugged nonchalantly, annoying him more.
"You'll fuck anything that moves," you jabbed. "At least fucking the boss has some real benefits unlike the girl from the bar. Maybe she'd even give you a raise if you could satisfy her properly." Jungkook couldn't hide the disgust that flared across his features; insulted that you thought so little of him. The urge to shut you up was growing stronger by the second, burning through his insides. You were going to drive him insane.
"Watch yourself," he warned, the words coming out dark and gravelly. But the surge of excitement that you felt, knowing that you had managed to provoke him, was addicting. You wanted more.
"If it was anyone else, I'd be all for it. Get that bag, you know?" you said with indifference. "But you? I thought the boss had better taste. Her bar must be in hell." That was enough for Jungkook. Before you even had a second to process what was happening, one of his hands was wrapped around your neck. His fingers dug into the flesh, limiting your breath in the most delicious way.
"You didn't seem to think so when you were begging me to touch you - to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom," he growled, stepping closer, face inches from yours.
"Yeah, obviously I expected too much," you sneered. "You don't know how to please anyone but yourself. Boss must be a real masochist to keep going back to you. Poor thing," you tutted, knowing you'd practically nailed the head in your own coffin before you'd even finished your thought. Jungkook's face contorted in a snarl as his grip tightened around your throat. You gasped, the dark swirl in your core intensifying.
"Maybe I should talk to her," you patronized, chasing the high from pissing him off. "I can recommend someone who can actually make her feel good - get her off. A man. Not a selfish boy," you emphasized. "Think she'll like me better than you after that?" With that, his other hand was pressed firmly against your mouth, effectively shutting you up. You grunted at the sheer pressure of his hold, now struggling to breathe.
"You just don't shut up, do you?" he spat. The look in his eyes was nearly feral; like he was going to eat you alive. His ego took a hit to your words, even though he knew you didn't actually believe everything you'd said. Still, you seemed to be stuck on his 'selfishness'. It infuriated him that you didn't understand why he wasn't giving you what you wanted, but he'd had enough of you running your mouth. If you'd forgotten how easily he made you melt under his touch, he'd just have to remind you. And make sure you never forgot again.
With each passing second of silent seething, you thought he might actually choke you out. But then he let go of you. You gasped for air, coughing as you caught your breath. Just as you were about to shoot him the dirtiest look you could muster, Jungkook sank to his knees. The snarky remark on your tongue vanished as you watched him kneel in front of you, looking up at you with a carnivorous gaze. Lust consumed your senses as he wordlessly loosened his tie, tugging at the collar of his shirt. You'd think that seeing him on his knees would make you feel more powerful in the situation. But the hunger in his eyes made it clear that he was still very much in control.
Simply put: Jungkook, in a suit and on his knees, was enough to wipe away your last bit of common sense.
"This is what you want, right?" he asked, his hands slipping under your skirt. You felt paralyzed, your breath caught in your throat. His hands moved up your thighs, slowly dragging your skirt up with them. "You wanna cum, yeah?" You were genuinely struggling to form any thoughts, your senses heightened.
"Want me to make you cum?" A strangled groan bubbled in your throat at his tone. He'd barely done a thing and your breathing was already heavy. So much for your resolve. As your skirt bunched above your hips, you suddenly became hyper aware of your situation. You were still at work, in a file room, door unlocked.
"Someone could walk in," you gasped, trying to convince yourself that you didn't want this. He ignored you, trailing his fingers down your hips and legs instead. "We've already been gone for a while. What if someone comes looking?" You desperately tried to focus your wandering mind.
"I guess I should hurry then," he sneered, shooting you a glare. Then his fingers were sliding between your legs, making you close your eyes and sigh as they eased the ache in your clit. By that point you were too far gone to even feel embarrassed about having soaked through your panties. Jungkook hissed as your slick coated his digits. "I put the bar in hell, but still, you get so wet for me," he snapped, adding more pressure. For the first time all day, you had nothing to quip back with. Your sweet silence was like music to his ears. Mindful of the time, Jungkook hooked his fingers in your underwear and pulled them down your legs. You knew there was no going back as you stepped out of them. Your knees felt weak as you watched him hastily shove them in his pocket. But before you could ask what he was planning on doing with them, he hooked a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and to the side. With your legs spread and your pussy staring him in the face, Jungkook was struggling to control himself. He wanted to tease you - make you beg and plead - but he didn't. Fuck. He couldn't; not when he felt like he'd lose his sanity if he didn't taste you right away.
Without wasting another second, his lips were pressed to you, the velvety heat of his mouth engulfing you as his tongue licked at your wetness. Your mouth was left agape as your hands buried into his hair, using the locks to keep yourself tethered. Jungkook groaned into your heat; he felt like he was getting drunk off of you. His fingers dug into your thighs as he hungrily lapped at your pussy. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a drawn out moan as his lips wrapped around your clit, creating the perfect amount of suction. You would've thought he was starved seeing the vigor with which he ate you out. He didn't stop, didn't pull away for a single breath - too consumed with the taste of you on his tongue. You were embarrassingly close already, struggling to contain your moans and whimpers. You bit your lip, trying to hold them in, but another particular harsh lick to your clit had you groaning Jungkook's name. Seeing you unravel so quickly only fueled Jungkook's appetite; the sound of his name on your lips going straight to his aching cock. All it took was him groaning into your cunt after that to send you over the edge. Your fingers yanked at his hair, desperately pulling him closer as you felt the white heat build up.
"Jungkook, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck," you cursed, voice whiny as you tried to keep quiet. "Gonna cum," you moaned right as you crashed over the edge. Jungkook felt you tense in his hold as you came on his tongue. He diligently lapped at your slit, sure to pay attention to your clit as well to help you ride out your orgasm. He slowed down as you came down from your high. Naturally, your legs tried to close together once his tongue became overstimulating. But Jungkook's hold was firm, keeping your legs apart. You tried to catch your breath, mind reeling from the mix of pleasure and pain flooding your senses.
"Jungkook... wait," is all you managed to get out. He ignored you again, picking up his pace despite your cringing.
"So fucking good," he growled against you, like he hated admitting it to himself. It felt weird hearing him compliment you after all the bickering and degrading earlier. Yet you couldn't deny that it boosted your ego seeing him so fucked out and angry. He pushed you further up against the cabinets, giving himself better access to you and delving his tongue into your dripping hole. And just like that, the sensitivity was replaced with a delicious pleasure once again.
"Please, wait..." you breathlessly pleaded. In contrast to the last orgasm, he was building this one up slowly. Unfortunately for you, that meant it felt twice as intense and you were getting increasingly worried about being caught.
"Thought you wanted to cum, sweetheart," he mocked. "That's why you're being such a bitch, right? Mad that I didn't make you cum last time?" he grit through his teeth. You cursed him under your breath, but were more focused on the feeling of his soft lips against. You finally looked down at him properly, ready to glare at him. But the second you saw his dark eyes staring up at you, the rest of his face buried between your legs, you lost your train of thought entirely. Then you saw his hand sprawled across your lower stomach while his thumb rubbed circles into your clit. Fuck, why was he so hot?
"What if we get caught?" you half-heartedly complained, trying to muffle your whimpers.
"They'll see what a fucking slut you are for me then," he grunted. You slapped a hand over your mouth when he picked up his pace, continuing to plunge his tongue in and out of you. "Keep your hands down," he demanded, pressing harder on your clit. "You're gonna keep moaning like that for me," he hissed, delving right back into the heat of your cunt. In that moment, all you heard was his demanding tone and your hands instinctively went back to his hair without a second thought. You whined, trying to keep your voice down as he slowly built up your pleasure.
"Good," he praised, his words muffled as he continued to eat you out. "I should make you scream, so that everyone knows that you, Y/n, are cumming on my tongue." His words were bitter but they turned you on more. You clearly had some problems. It didn't take very long after that to feel that white heat building up again. Jungkook could tell you were almost there, so he sped up the pace of his fingers and plunged his tongue deeper into you. "Including our boss," he rasped. And then you were cumming again; gripping tightly onto his hair and groaning his name once more.
"There you go," he coaxed, letting you ride his face. You hadn't realized, but at some point, your hips had started moving on their own. Seeing you with your eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open, as you unraveled under his touch, only fueled Jungkook's hunger. When you started coming down, he finally pulled away; giving you a second of reprieve. That was until you looked down to see his blown out, dark eyes staring at you. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices and he looked ravenous. He quickly pulled off his suit jacket, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt, eyes never leaving yours. Your chest heaved; partly because you were still catching your breath, and partly because of how fucking hot Jungkook looked in the moment. His hands went right back to your thighs, pulling them apart once more.
"Wait, what're you doing?!" you asked, eyes going wide. "I can't cum again, please," you nearly cried. His fingers dug into your thighs as he watched you plead.
"You can and you will," he said firmly. "You know why?" He slid his fingers between your folds, gathering all the wetness that had pooled. "Because you fucking love my touch," he growled. Your already weak knees felt even weaker.
"You're so desperate for it; for my mouth, my fingers, my cock." Your legs threatened to buckle under you if it weren't for Jungkook's hand holding you up. "So desperate that you're being such a fucking brat," he spat. "Trying to piss me off. So, what? So that I'd finally touch you again?" he mocked. Your senses were overwhelmed and his words settled in a pit in your stomach. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes; whether it was because of his harsh words or the overstimulation of his fingers, you weren't sure. Just as you were about to retort, Jungkook slipped a slender finger into you which slid in smoothly with how wet you were. He let out a throaty groan, quickly slipping another finger into you and curling them upwards. You nearly doubled over as he pressed right into your g-spot.
"See how tuned your body is to me? I've barely done a thing and you're already a mess," he taunted. Seeing how flimsy your legs had gotten, he quickly threw the leg he was holding over his shoulder, getting even closer to you. His name left your lips in a whine, your body torn between pleasure and worry. "Well here, I'm giving you what you want." He punctuated his words by curling his fingers again, making you moan. "You wanna cum? I'll make you cum...over and over again, so you never forget how good I make you feel." And with that, he finally pulled his fingers out before slamming them back into you, setting a hard pace.
Your mind was left blank, so consumed with pleasure that you couldn't even think about staying quiet. Whimpers and moans shamelessly tumbled out of you as he filled you up so delightfully. Jungkook wasn't unaffected either. Feeling how warm and wet you were was driving him up the wall, numbing his own thoughts.
"So wet for me, fuck. My cock would slide right into you with how drenched you are," he thought out loud. He felt you tighten around his fingers, making him snarl and pick up his pace. "Filthy fucking cockslut. I can't wait to feel you tighten around me like that when I'm fucking all this brattiness out of you," he growled, voice low. You could only moan in response.
"Jungkook, s-slow down, please," you begged, knowing that you wouldn't be able to hold on much longer. Before you knew it, his free hand came down on your pussy, leaving a delicious sting spreading through you. A half yelp-half moan sound came out of you, making Jungkook scoff.
"You're gonna take what I give you, like a good little slut," he grunted. "What do you have to say now Y/n?" he asked, annoyance lacing his voice. "You're so convinced I'm fucking every woman and leaving them unsatisfied. Do you feel satisfied yet?" With his fingers pumping you, grazing your g-spot with every thrust, it was nearly impossible for you to form a coherent thought. When you didn't answer, he gave your pussy another smack, making you hiss.
"Answer me," he demanded, "How do you feel now Y/n?"
"F-feel good," is all you could come up with. Jungkook chuckled at your fucked out state.
"Who's making you feel good sweetheart?"
"You," you moaned, feeling yourself reach your climax again. "Oh my god. Jungkook, please...don't stop. Feels so good, I'm gonna-"
Jungkook's ego inflated as you finally found your words again, saying exactly what he wanted to hear. Hearing you beg for him almost made up for all the shit you'd put him through that day. Almost. You were creaming on his fingers before you could even finish your sentence, moaning his name way louder than you should.
"Now you're finally being a good girl," he praised, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm. "Fuck, you're getting so tight. Keep cumming on my fingers like that, yeah?" he groaned, imagining how good you would feel on his cock. Your orgasm was so powerful, you were cumming for what felt like an eternity. Jungkook didn't mind; continuing to work you through it. When it was finally over, your legs gave out. Jungkook quickly caught you as you collapsed, and he placed you down on his discarded jacket on the floor. You closed your eyes and waited for your heart rate to go back to normal. When you opened your eyes after a few moments, Jungkook was still kneeling in front of you. His gaze was trained on your still exposed cunt and he had slipped his soaked fingers into his mouth, tasting you all over again. You worried for second that he still wasn't done with you. He slowly dragged his glazed over eyes to meet your. You gulped at the voracious look on his face, your legs instinctively closing.
Meanwhile, Jungkook was battling with his own insatiable thoughts. He knew he couldn't forget about this, about you, about your pussy after this. As infuriating and insufferable you were, he couldn't deny how good you tasted and felt. And he sure as hell couldn't deny how hard you'd gotten him either. With his hormones surging through him, all he could think about was being inside you, in any way. He saw the look on your face and nearly scoffed. You fucked up his reputation and humiliated him all because you wanted to cum, and now you couldn't take it. He took a deep breath, forcing his thoughts away so he could be rational.
"Don't worry, I'm not gonna make you cum again," he said. You scoffed, easing up a little with his reassurance. "You got what you wanted, right? Now maybe you'll keep your mouth shut." The high of your pleasure was wearing off and the weight of his words were hitting you. Did he really just think you were desperate for him? Had he forgotten how he was shamelessly flirting with that other girl right after leaving you in that bathroom? Reality finally caught up with you, and you realized how vulnerable you'd made yourself to him. If someone came in right now, the only person who'd be humiliated was you. Clearly, all of this was just a game to him; a way to shut you up. Jungkook was toying with you and you were letting him. A similar shame and hurt creeped across your skin as the night he'd left you in the bar bathroom. Part of you had started to feel bad about what you'd done earlier, but if Jungkook really was just using you, then you were still nowhere near even.
Without saying a word, you stood up, pulling your skirt back down. In the process, you remembered that he'd taken your underwear. But you'd have to talk to him to ask for them back, and the last thing you wanted to do was talk to him. You'd just have to clean up later and make it through the day without them. You straightened your clothes, trying to make them look as less wrinkly as possible, avoiding Jungkook's piercing gaze. When you finally felt like you looked presentable, that's when you looked at him. This time it was him that was left a mess. His hair was ruined by all the grabbing and pulling you'd done, and his collar was soaked with your juices. You looked at his jacket that you were not standing on, and sure enough, you'd left a wet spot and now heel marks on it too. It made you feel a little better, knowing that this time he'd have to fix himself up instead of you. You picked up his jacket with the toe of your shoe before kicking it over to him. You shot him a cold look.
"You're an asshole," you stated before walking out the door. Jungkook was left on the floor, even more frustrated. He'd felt more gratified after putting you in your place, but then what was that? You'd obviously enjoyed yourself, so what was the problem now? He groaned loudly. Despite his anger, the bulge in his pants was now aching. Everything about you was infuriating to him, so how did you have this much of an affect on him? His mind wandered back to how you felt in his hands and on his tongue. He growled as he palmed his crotch, slowly taking out his hard cock. He stroked himself harshly with the frustration you'd left him with. He quickly pulled out your panties from his pocket, unable to stop himself. His head rolled back and your name spilled past his lips along with low groans as he brought up the thin fabric to his face.
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Tag List: @myjungkookthighs @bemuas @junecat18 @exortedgoods @jahnaviii @jk97bam @itsmekylabear @blueberriesm @marvelbun @vantelover1306 @runariya @btstrology @diame93 @curse-of-art @minyoongi7016
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monarchberrysblog · 10 months ago
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𝔩𝔢𝔱’𝔰 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢 𝔲𝔭
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18+ Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader
Summary: After arguing with Miguel over a touchy subject, you both come to a consensus.
Content Warning ⚠️: Soft! Dom! Miguel, Dacryphilia?, Praise (from Miguel), little nicknames (Mainly cariño and neña), and a little bit of Miguel being a complete munch. (if you don't know what that means, you're too young to read my content.) The reader is a bottom, overstimulation (nothing new), and unprotective P in V. (wrap it before you tap it). Miguel talks the reader through it, and Miguel cries. (I wish I were playing) (NOT PROOFREAD) (OOC MIGUEL)
Word Count: 3.1k+ words (holy shit…)
Author's Notes: Well, this occurred to me while soaking my hair in rice water 😭 But in all seriousness, here’s something sweet but smutty 😗😋 Hope you all enjoy it. If there are some plot holds, I'm sorry. I've been busy recently.
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To my girlies who have a praise kink, your secret is safe with Miguel. 💌
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It had been two weeks since you spoke to Miguel, let alone share a bed.
Miguel regretted that he yelled at you or how he compared you to Dana, his former lover. The truth was, you were far better than Dana. You were kind, patient, and understanding of his responsibilities as Spider-Man. He didn't know what came to him when he compared you, a literal angel, to one of the worst partners he'd dated beforehand.
You remained a pillar of support and unwavering patience throughout his double life. Despite the countless tasks, you never once complained. You were there to tend to his wounds at the odd night hours, offering comfort and care. During the frigid winter months in Nueva York, you never failed to have a warm and nourishing soup ready to soothe his ailing body. But now, asking him to come home soon was too much?
"Dana would never complain about me coming home late!"
"Well, I'm sorry that I'm not her!"
The same argument returned for the last few days until one instance ended it. It was the same argument managed, but he managed to end it—not as you expected.
"I should have never dated you! You are so demanding. Dana would never be like this." The second he finished, he covered his mouth with his hands quickly and backed away from you. He wanted to take back his words, but you didn't give him that advantage. Your silence felt suffocating to hear and to be around. But the sight of your lips quivering and your eyes at the brink of spilling tears. The urge to run to you and to beg for forgiveness rushed through his veins.
Before even having the opportunity, you are running away from him into your shared bedroom, like a small rabbit running away from its predator to seek shelter in a small hole in the ground.
As soon as Miguel laid eyes on the scene before him, his stomach turned, and he felt like he would be sick. It wasn't just that he had acted up—the complete lack of remorse he felt at that moment truly frightened him. Meanwhile, seeing you trying to hold back tears made the situation unbearable. But when he heard you weeping in your bedroom, the guilt he felt just got magnified.
/
The sound of thunder boomed throughout the apartment complex. Usually, this made you want to grab a soft blanket and snuggle in Miguel's arms. However, the events that led to this said otherwise. He was out in Nueva York while you were bedridden. The sensation of your pillow against your cheek buried away the melancholy and the tears that your poor pillow always caught whenever you got upset.
The now old Victorian complex now creaks and settles down every other occasion. The sound of a muffled evangelical leader seeped through the thin walls, despite the number of complaints Miguel had told the older man to turn it down. But now? The preaching from the frustrated man drowns out your sorrows as thunder continues to rumble throughout the complex.
The window sliding open greets you, snapping you out of the evangelical preacher's words. Veering over your shoulder, you see your boyfriend, Miguel, crawling back into the apartment, closing the old window, preventing the downpour from creeping in and soaking the red oak floors. The sight of him changing into his sweats and undershirt was enough to make you blush, but you ignored your instincts. The simple 'hey' he greets you made you toss and turn on the bed, ignoring him.
Your heart skipped a beat as you heard the words "Cariño, por favor" uttered from behind you. Your mind was racing, and you wondered whether to turn around and face him. The temptation to forgive and forget lingered in your heart for a week, but what he had said had left an unforgettable mark. The hurt and pain were too much to ignore, and you knew deep down that it was time to move on—even though you were too adamant for your good.
A small sigh of defeat fills the mere pregnant pause in the air as the bed creaks under the added weight on the bed before settling down. The blankets bunched around your chest and near your chin comforted you despite the smell of it being your favorite fabric softener combined with his scent. "C'mere…" He groans, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into a spooning position. A loud whine from you wasn't the response he was expecting. He expected a giggle when he did so, but an adverse reaction said otherwise.
"Please don't be upset, cariño. I didn't mean what I said about, well—" Miguel suddenly stops. There is no other way around it. He messed up big time, and can see the hurt in your eyes.
You weren't Dana, something that Miguel always took for granted—the memory of having to deal with someone so parasitic, like a brain-eating amoeba, was emotionally draining. Even thinking about it is enough to make anyone tired. The emotional unavailability was the thing that got to him when it came to her, knowing that she wasn't waiting for him and cared about herself instead. The artificial bullshit was the only thing she desired, such as the dates and the gifts, not the emotional side of things, such as aftercare.
"What I said, it was true. You're not like Dana," A pause filled the space as you waited for him to continue. "You're not her, and it's something I adore." The simple kiss to your temple made you liquefy in his arms, but you remained silent, giving the silent treatment. "And I'm sorry about what I said; it was something I said in the heat of the moment." A nuzzle to the pillow was the only response he received, along with the low rumble of thunder.
As his lips touched your temple, a wave of gentle affection washed over you. The kisses continued to rain down softly, dotting your forehead, cheeks, and finally, your lips, like a fluttering of delicate butterfly wings. A tiny grumble left from you, not wanting to cave into his little kisses and advances that you ever so adored dearly.
The harassment of sweet kisses ended after ten minutes, and you turned your body to face Miguel. "…hey."
"Hey, cariño…" He hums, sneaking a kiss to your lips, which you allow. "…hey." You repeated, not knowing what else to say. "Hi." Miguel chuckled from the back of his throat and planted another kiss on the forehead. You stayed silent for the longest time until you looked up at him from where you rested your head on his chest. "I'm sorry too—" Miguel covered your mouth with his hand, nearly covering your entire face. "No, don't apologize. This argument was all my fault." He pulled his hand away from your lips, and a subtle sigh left.
"I shouldn't have exploded over one little thing. You rarely ask for me to come home a little sooner." His fingers combed through your hair, occasionally fixing some knots. "It shows that you care; you want me to be at home, safe and warm…" The pitter-patter of rain continued to play a steady tempo like a metronome at an adagio, not too fast, yet a bit slow. "I'm sorry for giving a poor excuse for blowing my anger at you. It was… stupid." He breathes out. "I had no reason."
You hummed and nuzzled closer to him. "I forgive you…" You mumbled, soon curling up to him for his warmth. "I should have known that asking for you to come home sooner is a bit too much—" You were cut off once again with a kiss on your lips, muffling your words. After you stopped and returned the kiss, Miguel pulled away after a moment and ruffled your hair.
"No, cariño. None of this is your fault. The blame is all on me." He rubbed the back of your head with his hand, lightly massaging the nape of your neck with his thumb. A small chuckle escaped from him. Seeing your messy hair makes him smile at the sight you gave him. Usually, you would throw a fit about how you looked, especially when the two of you went out. But now, you seemed loosened up and mellow.
He embraced you tightly, nuzzling into your neck as soon as you returned it. "I missed you so much… I don't like being mad at you," you muttered, slowly rubbing your fingertips against the nape of his neck. Then you started playing with his hair. A small smile formed on your lips as you felt his soft waves against the pads of your fingers. "Even with your suit, your hair is always soft. It never fails to surprise me."
Miguel only gave you a chuckle before pulling you to rest on his body and planting a long kiss on your lips, which you happily reciprocated. The soft, supple kisses soon evolved into something hungry and messy. The soft caress around your waist soon became handsy and coping with a feeling of being on one another. "I missed you, nena…" He mumbles in between kisses.
His kisses moved from your lips, leaving a small trail from your neck to your collarbone and, finally, on your plush lower stomach. “Nena… let me, please…” With a rush, you nodded, rubbing your thighs together slowly. "Here, let's help you out…" Usually, the man would rip your underwear off, but this time, he held back. He patted your hips lovingly, gesturing for you to raise your hips. "Raise your hips for me." You obeyed immediately, soon squirming out of your underwear and helping Miguel.
His arms hooked around your thighs, dragging your upper half down onto the mattress and having your pussy close to Miguel's lips. "Look at that, that kiss got you all wet…" Before complaining that you could feel his breath against your sensitive clit, Miguel indulged himself, devouring you slowly and slurping any remnants of your arousal. "My god, you taste so good…" He shuddered in between your folds and soon probed his tongue at your entrance. The light flicks from the wet, active muscles tease you enough for you to grasp onto the duvet underneath you and moan deep from your throat. "Oh fuck, fuck me with it…"
Hum is the only response you accumulate as you feel the wet tongue slowly tease your fluttering hole and soon feel Miguel lightly push his tongue at your fluttering hole. A small, needy moan filled the space while the wet muscle made you arch your back against the mattress. "Fuck, I want it inside…" You urgently whine.
"What do you want, cariño? Use your words, m'kay?" He muttered, slowly pulling away from your pussy and taking the time to savor you.
"I want it…"
"You want what? Please tell me what you want." He cooed to you and rubbed his thumbs against your thighs. The light breathing against your clit and entrance didn't help your case. Your high was making it nearly impossible to get on top of him and to take regime.
"I want your cock… please."
After a few moments of your demands and feeling his soft breathing against your pussy, he slowly slid you back down onto the bed, laying you down on the bed gently. "C'mere…" Miguel whispers sweetly before he gently holds you close and slowly rubs his aching length against your folds. The sensation of the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your bare skin was enough for you to moan at the feeling. "Wait, this feels…" He paused and looked down at you. "Are we okay? I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." You could hear the sheer panic in his voice, but you only nodded, giving him the green light.
Reaching down, your hands worked quickly, and you pulled on his sweats and boxers. A low groan emits from Miguel, feeling his dick get freed from the restrictive clothing. "You wanna hump on my cock like a good girl?" He mumbles out heavily, slowly lowering himself and allowing his length to rub in between your folds slowly. "Oh god, slowly. Slowly, cariño…" He urgently breathes out, slowly letting his bulbous tip rub against your clit. The burning yet slippery sensation slowly builds up. The slow, sensual rubs are enough for more arousal to build up, making it feel like a slippery slide thanks to your arousal and Miguel's precum. "Mierda…"
"Do you want me to fuck you, and do you want my babies?"
You nodded immediately, squirming in underneath him on the mattress.
"C'mon, grab it and slide it in. You know how to do it."
It had been weeks since you'd had sex with Miguel, especially since the argument about Dana; it almost had been a month without any intimate contact. You slowly reached for his cock and lightly tapped his tip against your entrance, a little nervous about how it would be a tight fit. "Miguel?" You slowly whined, still holding onto his aching cock. "Do you need any help?" He hums, slowly getting himself comfortable. "It's been a while…"
He nods before he grabs his cock and helps you slowly push himself in. "Shit!" He suddenly hisses out, barely letting his tip inside of you while you claw at his arms and groan. "You are tight…" You looked down and saw that your poor partner barely kept it together. "Give me a moment, nena…" He murmurs out quietly, slowly thrusting his tip at your entrance.
"Just the tip?" You sweetly suggested, looking down again, seeing how desperately he wanted his length to disappear by simply slowly pumping into you. "Maybe… Just the tip…" Miguel nods, slowly letting his tip probe at your entrance.
/
The sounds of labored breathing and moans filled the apartment, drowning out the evangelical preacher from next door, along with the angry bangs from the other neighbors. "I want you…" You breathed out, slowly feeling him sink in his length until his happy trail brushed against your clit. "Then you can have me. I'm yours to do as you please." His voice was like warm molasses, a sweet honey running down with sweet venom.
Another shout from the older man next door causes Miguel to roll his eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, allowing his mushroom tip to brush against your cervix. "Shut up!" Miguel yelled out to the angry neighbor and returned his focus to you. "Can we go a little faster?" You meekly suggested while slowly moving on his length. "Ay, cariño…"
The sensation of his length twitching inside of you is enough to have the man nearly cave in and thrust into your fluttering walls to end the slow overstimulation on his tip. "Easy, easy…" He breathed out weakly, slowly grasping onto your hips. His talons digging into your flesh felt like tiny needles lightly prickling at your thumb while sewing. "You're a little tight, and it's been a hot minute." His breathy groan filled the space immediately, slowly moving in and out of your fluttering hole. Not listening to his demands, you began to move your hips down and slid with ease, allowing your arousal to cream on his length. "Let's piss the neighbor off."
It was a sick, twisted fantasy to anger your neighbors, especially with the fact that y'all had thin walls in the time-old apartment that could drive anyone crazy. Mainly because the older neighbors around y'all are rowdy and complain about every little noise you or Miguel produced, most the sound of a blender or even if some music played a little too loud to their liking. But to you and him, it was time to get back at them and be as noisy as possible.
His pace was languid yet deep, taking his time while letting out low, rough grunts. “You're doing well, cariño.” You respond weakly by letting out a mewl and only let your fluttering wall convey the message more. “I'm trying…” You whined, bringing him to your embrace. “Can you go a little faster?” You plead, feeling the slow, delicious burn from his girth. “You sure? I don't want to hurt you.” He nuzzled close to your neck, leaving tiny kisses.
“I can handle it.” You pant, slowly sink yourself into him, pushing yourself down on him. The veins running down his length brushed against your clit deliciously, with a loud mewl filling in the apartment. “Please, please, please.” You plead out loud. “I'm on birth control, please.”
“I want you to—” One quick thrust ended your words. A sudden scream of pleasure filled the space, feeling Miguel’s merciless tempo. “Oh fuck! Yes! Keep it at that!” You demanded while being underneath him. “Baby, I'm a little—”
The wanton moans filled the space while the banging of the neighbor on your apartment walls made this nothing but filthy. “Shut up!” Your hoarse demands filled the space while you banged your fist against the wall. His unrelenting tempo continued, feeling that burn you ever so missed desperately.
The wet, squelching noise made the scene more lewd for Miguel, along with your shared bed creaking underneath the two of you, barely holding on with whatever strength it could conjure up. You are underneath him while he can feel your arousal coat his length along with his precum. The pace felt nothing but filthy and desperate. The feeling of tiny water droplets landed on your cheeks, causing you to wipe them off before you look up and see your partner, your usual aloof, stoic partner, shedding tears before you. The rough pace continued as you clawed at his back, leaving faint, red marks before you felt your rippling finish come to you and embraced Miguel tightly. “Please, I'm close…”
With one single thrust, you felt him twitch inside you before putting his heavy load in you.
“You okay?” You peeped out to him while feeling him slowly slide out and wiping away his tears. “Yes, I'm fine. Just overstimulated myself a little.” Slowly, he pulls out, earning a tiny groan from you and immediately pulls you into a warm embrace. “I didn't hurt you, did I?” You shook your head no, taking in shallow breaths. “No, I'm okay. Just a little sore.” You mumble quietly. Little sore was an understatement…
“C’mere…” He pants out, pulls you into a warm embrace, and plants soft, lazy kisses on your temple and cheeks. “You did so good…” The lazy, slow presses of his body against you felt like a weighted blanket, along with his chest heaving against yours. His hands roamed your body, allowing his fingers to trace light patterns and memorize you. “What do you want for dinner, cariño? Do you want me to prepare you something or do you want that one pizza you like on Main Street?” He murmurs from your shoulder, not wanting to get off of you. An incomprehensive mumble is the only thing that responds to him.
“Pizza it is, then.”
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devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 2 months ago
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I am OBSESSED with mean!Jason Todd. I just imagine him saving you from doing something he thinks is really stupid, like walking alone in Gotham after dark and then just being downright mean about it after he takes you home. Unf. Obsessed.
EJEUGDAKAM FOAMING AT THE MOUTH OVER THIS OMG♥️♥️♥️ tysm for the request!
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Mean! Jason Todd (Part 2)
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Sensitive Subjects: Smut, anal (kinda blurring the lines of noncon...?), a probably toxic situationship
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Mean! Jason Todd who has some weird situationship with you. After you hooked up the first time, it just kinda kept going. Do you love him? You aren't sure. Does he love you? Probably not, but he gets possessive as hell regardless.
"What was that shit about?" He took you to a bar before coming back to his apartment once before it became a regular occurance. His face was twisted into that usual scowl and broad arms crossed over his chest. But, oh, how that look gave you some butterflies.
"Him?" You glance over at the guy you'd previously been chatting with a few moments ago through the loud, crowded bar. "He's just a friend." Of course you were telling the truth: the sex with Jason was just too good to pass up by sleeping with somebody else or getting into a serious relationship.
"My ass." An immediate scoff was his biggest reaction. And, to be fair, that's probably the least jealous thing you could've gotten out of him: the guy could've ended up beaten to a pulp on the sidewalk if Jason saw fit. "Come on, let's get out of here."
Mean! Jason Todd who didn't know you worked the late shift at said bar and thought you were just blowing him off for some other guy when you said you were busy. So, when he saw you walking home from your shift down the shady alleys of Gotham nearing 2 AM, he was pissed.
A quick, forceful grab is all you could feel as a broad, muscled figure approached from behind. There wasn't much you could even do other than thrash and claw at his biceps. "Quit your fucking squirming!" Wait, Jason?
Your head was barely able to turn and place him into view, but, surprisingly, you weren't being kidnapped and it was just your situationship. "What the hell are you doing?" His grip loosens slightly after a moment, allowing you to push yourself away from his chest and arms and back down to your feet.
"What the hell are you doing? Do you know what could happen walking out here this late?" Jason is practically screaming at this point, the sound reverberating off the brick walls of shady Gotham apartments. "Or are you trying to get yourself kidnapped?"
Mean! Jason Todd who practically drags you back to his apartment after, absolutely seething with anger and... Worry? No. You wouldn't dare call it that. Not yet, anyway... Maybe something closer to a jealousy. Maybe he was just still jealous of some hypothetical guy you didn't even have plans with.
"What the actual hell did you think you were doing? Do you know how unsafe it is to be walking near Crime Alley at night?" The door is immediately slammed behind him when he takes you back to his apartment. "Look, if you're blowing me off for some other guy, that's fine. But if you're seriously dumb enough to think that I would be okay with you out by yourself regardless, you need to think again."
"Jay, I was just coming home from-" You start, putting down your work bag on his crappy coffee table like you usually do.
"No, don't give me that shit. You were coming home from a little boy toy's place, weren't you?" He's already on his way to grab the bottle of whiskey from the cabinet next to his fridge. "Should've known you'd be just as much of a slut as she was. Hell, a dumb one at that."
Mean! Jason Todd who doesn't even feel bad as he sees you get a little misty eyed. Or maybe he does... It ws really hard to tell when you could barely see through the tears welling up in your beautiful eyes.
Mean! Jason Todd who really ends up getting on your nerves after the first half hour of arguing. There was nowhere to back away to when he came up and towered over you in his dingy, quiet apartment. And so, you did what you could.
"Oh yeah? Well maybe if that greedy little cunt of yours wasn't begging for attention-" Jason wasn't even yelling anymore. In fact, he'd resorted to slut shaming you only ten minutes into the fight.
And then, a loud slap. Your hand stung. A lot. So did his face, probably. And before you could even think about how to apologize or get yourself out of the situation, Jason is picking you up, hauling you over his shoulder, and carrying you to his bedroom.
Mean! Jason Todd who absolutely tortures you as soon as you're in his bedroom. Sure, you'd both had some pretty rough sex before, but he's never been quite as unhinged as he is right now.
"Look at this cunt..." A light slap to your bare clit as he kneels between your legs. "So fucking wet... You're already dripping." Jason cant help but let out a light scoff. In all honesty, it was probably closer to a sadistic laugh. "Is this all for me, or is it just some other guy's leftovers?"
Mean! Jason Todd who knows for a fact that you're not a huge fan of anal. So, even if you did sleep with somebody else (which he's starting to realize wasn't the case), then at least that tight little hole would be unused.
You couldn't help but shiver slightly as you felt him rub the cold lube on your tight, unused hole. At least he had the 'kindness' to get you all wet before trying to bully his thick, long cock into you. "Jay, I can't-"
"Really? You 'can't'?" He actually laughs at you this time as he slides his thick, dripping tip between your cheeks. "Maybe you should've thought of that before going to get some other guy's dick wet."
Mean! Jason Todd who decides to make you forget every other guy you could possibly think of by pulling as many orgasms out of you as possible. You literally have to beg him to stop by the end of it. Your clit feels like its on fire and you can barely move your legs, but, God, that was probably the best sex you'd ever have.
Mean! Jason Todd who, despite how upset he wants to be with you, is absolutely smothering you with aftercare. He's always made sure that you're alright after hooking up, but this time was just a little more... Passionate?
Your thighs burned. Your hips burned. Even the core of your abdomen felt like it was on fire. But when that cool, damp cloth made contact with your sticky, sweat-sheened skin, it felt like heaven.
"Quit moving..." He mutters as he gently wipes away both of your sticky arousal from between your thighs. "I have you. You're alright... Just let me clean you up and we can sleep or get food, alright? Whatever you want, sweetheart."
Mean! Jason Todd who, by the end of the night, realizes that you didn't sleep with anybody else and just feels so much more at peace. It doesn't matter that you two are simply hooking up and non-exclusive. It doesn't matter that this all started because one of your friends cheated on him. What mattered was that your pretty little cunt and ass were all his for as long as possible (totally not that you were safe and he didn't have to worry about being replaced).
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Masterlist
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bitchimasnake-sss · 1 month ago
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Hiii could you please write a shanks x f reader who is virgin/not experienced? Thanks you💖
of course i can, guillotine-enjoyer! this is my comeback into the op fandom after a little bit of hiatus, so, i hope you like this filth mwuah mwuah
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🍒a lil' hands-on session!
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synopsis: seeing your incompetence, the captain of your ship offers to teach you some lessons. after all, experience is the best teacher, is it not? pairing: f!reader x shanks [implied age gap.] wc: 1.3k cw: nsfw includes: dirty talking, teasing, pet names (angel, sweetheart, pretty, baby and such), guided masturbation(f!), fingering, soft!dom shanks. NOT PROOFREAD. WRITTEN CAUSE I LOVE ME ONE (1) GOOD DILF! MDNI. m.list
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"really?" and you knew that your captain wasn't trying to be an ass, knew that he was just curious — albeit, a little too curious.
it was hard not to allow a blush to creep up your cheeks when you repeated for the nth time, "no."
"you've not done anything?" shanks repeated, a certain gleam in his eyes at the way you squirmed under his casual scrutiny.
"no." hands folding across your chest, you slumped back in your seat as if to escape his heated gaze, "and what's it to you if i have or haven't?"
"nothing." the older man laughed, chasing the action with another sip from bottle full of alcohol. wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he shrugged, "it's just a bit weird."
you know what else was weird? this.
tucked away to one dark corner while the rest of the crew danced and sung around in a random party while discussing your virginity with your goddamn captain definitely wasn't on your bingo-card this lifetime, but here you were. weird, right?
"seriously?" you found a soft pout across your lips, looking at the man who's body was half-audacity and half-alcohol, "it's not weird. you're like a bajillion years old, so, it'll be weird if you didn't have any experience." you shrugged, bringing your own bottle of alcohol to your lips, "'m still young. i've got time."
"hm?" shanks cocked an eyebrow, experienced hands setting his bottle down on the wooden, creaking table. "i'm how old?"
warmth crawled up your face and you repeated slowly, "a... bajillion?"
shanks laughed at the slight waver in your voice, taking in your suddenly scarlet appearance, "did i scare young, little you?"
"no." you sipped the liquid again, trying to soothe your weirdly-parched throat with the volatile liquid, "don't flatter yourself. 's just the... alcohol."
"the alcohol's got you looking as red as a cherry, pretty?" and you nodded, scrunching your nose in retort, "it has. mind your own business, shanks."
you're not quite sure which part of "mind your own business" meant sitting on shanks' bed in shanks' room as he peered down at you far too late in the night.
the bridge of his nose was flushed red, eyes drooping down as he licked his lips.
"what do you know?" there was a slight slur in his speech, the kind that excited you when combined with the way his slow gaze drifted against your hot body.
"n-nothing." your thighs clenched shut, lips wobbling under his thick inspection.
"nothing at all?" and you swear you saw the slightest curl across his devilish lips at your small nod.
shanks dipped his face downwards, his skin smelling of cheap booze and bad decisions as he dragged his index across the soft slope of your cheek. his gaze held steady against yours, "do you want me to teach you?"
at your soft nod, shanks trailed the same hand down your cheeks to your collarbones. his eyes stayed on you, never once wavering. "have you ever done things... yourself?"
you shook your head, finding more confidence in your actions rather than your jelly-like words. and this time, he gave you a careful, cashmere smile, "want me to teach you?"
next you knew, shanks was nudging open your thighs, dragging your slick-soaked panties to the side far too easily. his hot breath fanned across your inner thigh, and your essence beaded out at his inspection.
you brought your thighs together, trying yet again to escape his filthy, filthy gaze, but he held your thighs apart with the same skilled hands. never once looking up at you, he breathed out, "don't run away, pretty."
his adept hand dragged yours down to your heat, guiding your thumb to swipe across the throbbing, neglected clit. the pad of your thumb collected the sweet nectar, and you shuddered at the soft touch.
shanks pulled his hand back to himself, looking at you transfixed as you experimentally swiped against the nub again, and then yet again. moments passed and you found a comfortable rhythm to coax an orgasm out of yourself.
as the touches become more natural, the circles grew sloppy against your sopping, desperate pussy. your back arched, the sensation building up in the pit of your stomach so fucking deliciously. your jaw slacked open, inaudible moans brewing in the back of your throat.
and at your actions, shanks groaned.
bringing up a steady hand up to your throat, he clasped your soft skin under his harsh palm. as shanks pressed down on your neck, your finger stuttered against your heat with the lack of air, "s-shanks."
"put your fingers inside."
your eyes widened, words twisting at his request, "i-inside?"
shanks nodded, bringing his own hand to play against your swollen nub with easy, calculated strokes. your back arched at the foreign touch, his fingers were so much rougher, so better experienced.
you slipped in a finger, followed by another. curling your digits against the velvet, you shivered at the way your gummy walls responded to the intrusion.
shanks was unyielding in his touches, never once leaving the swollen, fluttering clit and letting you breathe. no. he pressed down on your clit, fingers strumming against your heat.
the heat pooled out of your cunt, dripping down to his bed obscenely as your eyes rolled back. your hips rutted against your own palm, the friction drawing out pornographic mewls out of your wobbling, wet lips, "'m go-gonna cum. oh fuck—"
his swipes grew sloppy, no longer shapes or words but rather just primal, raw actions to make you come undone. you clenched your eyes shut, your back arching into the mattress at the way his and your touches made you combust and burn up from within. your stomach tightened, head growing lighter with each second, "—fu-fuck, fuck, fuck— ngh shanks-!"
"look at me." a gruff voice forced you back into reality. your captain hissed, a delirious look in his eyes to match yours, "fucking look at me as you cum."
"sh-shanks." your voice wavered, your fingers pistoning in and out of your addictive cunt as your body broke itself inwards. face flushed, hair growing matted against your skin, you sunk your teeth into your bottom lips, mewling out, "ngh— f-fuck, fuck it feels s'good."
"it does right?" shanks pressed forward, dipping his face against the crook of your neck. his stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and his breath stuttered out a falsetto as your muscles spasmed against your own hand.
shanks raised his face, locking his gaze against yours, "feel good, right?"
you nodded, already delirious and half-gone past mad, "i-it does. so, so s'good aah fu—"
one more drivel into your pathetic, fluttering pussy and you came undone with a needy moan of your captain's name, "s-shanks. i-fuck oh my god, ohmygo—"
"that's it." shanks cooed, his eyes burning up the lewd image of your flooding, sensitive folds against his hands, "that's it, baby. let it all out."
words barely coherent, your body spluttered and shivered until it steadied against the same head-board shanks had perched you against.
when you caught your breath, you met your captain's hungry gaze. a strong grip brought your limp hand to your lips, and shanks hummed wordlessly to suck off the remnants of honeydew splattered against your own digits.
wobbling, unsteady, you pushed the two fingers past your lips and sucked on them. your cheeks hollowed, eyes doe-like as you stared at your captain.
the older man snuck in a quick breath, huffing out a soft laugh at your antics, "you're a quick learner, aren't ya?"
you hummed against your skin, nodding so innocently as you let go with a pop! you licked your lips, staring up at the man, "got anything else to teach me?"
shanks laughed, the sound reverberating and setting your pleading cunt alight with need. the captain brought a steady hand to your flushed, warm cheeks, "think ya can handle it, angel?"
"uh huh." daringly, without ever once breaking the eye-contact, you caressed your hand against the obvious bulge in his pants, "not to mention, you're such a good teacher, cap'n."
"alright then." something in his gaze hardened, some unmasked desire ready to guide shanks to become your god, "on your fucking knees for me, sweetheart."
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a/n: op fandom, i return with more filth! eat up well🤭 (okay, don't tell anyone but i'm trying to answer all asks asap. no promises though, okay?? so incase you sent one, hold on tight.) m.list
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scuderiahalf · 3 months ago
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(almost) one year with you — c.sainz
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pairing. carlos sainz x strategist!norris!fem!reader
summary. your boyfriend is usually so intelligent. when he makes one of the stupidest decisions of his life to break up with you, his best friend (and your idiot brother) decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.3k, 18+
warnings. breakups = makeup sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering, reader is kind of a bitch but carlos is into it
masterlist.
.
"I'm going to kick the door open."
"Please, do not do that," Carlos says from behind you.
"You think I can't?"
Smartly, Carlos chooses not to voice any further opinions.
You kick the door, more out of frustration than an actual attempt to break it open.
"I'm going to murder you when I get out of here, Lando!" you shout against the door, not really caring if your idiot brother has hung around to hear the very real threat.
You may not actually kill him (you're still debating it) but you will definitely hit him. At least five times. Maybe more. And he's not getting any of your late-night stress-baked cookies for several months. Asshole.
You kick the door again, harder. The wood bends near the bottom from the impact, rattling in the doorframe but otherwise unmoving. Your groan turns into a yell of frustration, punctuated by you hitting the still closed door with both hands. You seriously cannot believe Lando would do this.
"Are you finished?"
Carlos sounds almost amused.
If he hadn't been literally thrown into the room by not just Lando but Max and Alex as well, you might think he's in on this whole scheme. Instead, you just glare at him, irritated that he's so calm while you're both being held against your will.
"Is being made to be near me that horrible?" Carlos says.
"Oh, fuck off."
"You are acting as if they will not have to let us out eventually."
"How long is that going to take? Huh? I don't want to be locked in here for hours. It's actually FUCKING RIDICULOUS!"
You're shouting at the door again, hoping your dumbass brother and his stupid fucking friends can hear.
They all better be prepared for the consequences. There's no one better at holding a grudge than you.
You never should have trusted Lando when he had insisted you come to Charles Leclerc’s dumb yacht party. He never wants to be seen in public with you much less all but beg you to attend a party with all his friends who are so much cooler than you because he's an F1 driver and all his friends are, too, and you're just a strategist.
(You never thought that being a trackside strategist at Scuderia Ferrari would be preceded by "just" as though it isn't an impressive feat but with a brother like Lando Norris, nothing you do ever really seems to measure up. You're the reason Lando ever got into racing or F1 in the first place. So really, this is your own fault.)
You give up harassing the door (it locks from the inside so there must be something blocking it in the hallway) and start searching the room for another way out. It's a bedroom, and you're choosing to assume that it just happened to be the easiest place to trap you both and not a purposeful nudge to something untoward. Lando isn't that crude. You think.
After this little stunt, you don't think he deserves the benefit of the doubt.
You start checking all the drawers to see if there's anything useful. You don't actually know what you're looking for. Maybe like a fire axe or a hand saw so you can brute force your way out of here.
"We could talk," Carlos proposes.
"And give Lando what he wants? No, thank you."
"You are so proud. Can we not talk this out?"
"What's there to talk out, Carlos? You dumped me, remember?"
That shuts him up.
You refuse to look at him. Even with your back to him as you search through a completely empty dresser, you can feel the look on his face. Full lips pouting, big brown cow eyes all sad and pitiful. You'd fold like a cheap suit if you saw his pretty eyes right now and you're trying really hard to stay strong and hang onto your anger so you won't give in.
There's nothing in any of the dresser drawers. The nightstands are fruitless, too. The wardrobe houses only empty hangers, and not even the cheap wire ones that could be bent into something useful like a weapon to kill yourself with if things get any more tense in this tiny room.
"I regret it," he says.
You close the wardrobe with a heavy breath.
"I regretted it as soon as I said we should end it."
"Cry me a river, Sainz. Build a bridge. Get over it. You don't get to call me ‘nothing but a distraction’ then tell me you regret it and expect me to forgive you just like that—fuck this. I'm going to swim to shore."
You yank the balcony door open and climb up onto one of the chairs so you can get over the railing.
"Y/N!" Carlos curses in Spanish, scrambles after you and gets an arm around you before you can actually step up onto the railing. "What are you doing?!"
"I just said! I'm going to swim to shore. Let me go!"
Carlos picks you up like a purse dog and carries you back into the room. He stands in front of the balcony door after setting you down, blocking your only escape route.
"You cannot swim to shore. We are miles out of sea!"
"If it gets me out of this room, I'd do it!"
"Can you not just talk to me?"
"No!"
"Why?!"
"Because I don't want to!"
"What are you afraid is to happen?"
"I don't have to explain myself. Especially not to you."
So, you don't explain yourself. You walk over to the couch and take a seat, arms and legs crossed, looking anywhere but at Carlos.
You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to that first date with Carlos last year. You know what you were signing up for. You knew all the judgement would be on you if/when you decided to go public. You knew Ferrari would have many things to say about your relationship, and they did, when you told them earlier in the season before it could potentially get ugly with a reveal from unsasvory sources.
You knew all of that and you went for it, anyway, because could you even call yourself a Norris if you didn't go after what you wanted? You knew what being with Carlos would bring but apparently, you were the only one.
After eleven amazing months together, Carlos got cold feet. You don't know how else to describe it. You had told your family after three months; he'd told his after just one. Everyone was happy for you. Your family loves Carlos, and the Sainz clan accepted you with open arms. You were so happy.
But as your relationship pushed a year, Carlos said you needed to talk, called you a distraction, subsequently hazardous for his line of work, and ended things.
Did you call him an emotionally stunted manchild before storming out of the cafe he asked to meet at? If you did, he surely deserved it.
A few weeks after that, you're where you are now, locked in a bedroom on a yacht while a party rages on several floors above. Carlos says he regrets breaking up with you, that he wanted to take back everything he said, but he already said it and that's how things are now.
You'll not be the girl he comes crawling back to whenever it's convenient for him. If going steady is a hazard for work, then an off again-on again situationship is definitely not OSHA-compliant. You refuse to lower yourself to being a doormat that Carlos wipes his feet on whenever he feels he has the time.
After a while of standing guard at the balcony door, Carlos makes a move to sit on the couch with you.
"No," you say.
He halts midstep.
"You can sit on the bed."
Slowly, as though giving you a chance to change your mind, Carlos sulks over to the bed and sits.
He's moving to Williams next year. He has only a handful of races left in rosso corsa. He doesn't know you're sitting on a job offer that could have you following him, a promotion to head strategist at the Oxfordshire team that you can't believe you're actually debating because of your standing with a man.
You've told no one of Williams's proposition. So, you really don't know why you open your mouth to tell Carlos of all people.
"Williams wants me as their head strategist."
He looks up, eyes bright, surprised but excited for you. "What? That is amazing."
"Yeah, I know it is," you say, glaring at him again. "I haven't accepted yet, though."
Carlos is quiet, then carefully says, "Because of me?"
"No," you say because it's just ridiculous for that to be the reason you're holding up contract negotiations, "Yes, because of you. Obviously. I don't want you thinking I'm following you. I'm not. I'm pursuing my career. So, I know that changes you being all regretful. I just want to clarify things before you hear about it from someone else.”
“Why would it change how I feel?”
“Because we’ll still be coworkers next season.”
“That changes it? What does it change?”
Carlos' accent (hot as fuck) and the way he doesn't always say things 100% correct (cute as fuck) are misleading for his actual understanding of the English language. So, you're really not sure what he's getting confused over.
He's leaving. You were supposed to be staying. No longer working together meant no distractions for him until you would meet up at a hotel after a shitty quali and he would fuck the shit out of you. Or something like that.
It'd feel good in the moment but you don't want him for just sex. You don't want casual. You don't want to be a convenient, low-maintenance, not-quite-official girlfriend. You won't do it. No matter how pretty he is.
And his plan to get you back was ruined now that you'd be moving to Williams for next season, anyway.
“I’d not be a distraction if I was staying at Ferrari. Now, we’ll both still be on the same team. Not convenient for you to still be in a toxic work environment, huh? So, you can cut the crap.”
“That has nothing to do with my regret."
"I won't be a casual fuck buddy who you can't stand to be around when it doesn't work for you."
"I never said that!"
He seems genuinely hurt by your implication but you won't fall for it, won't let it deter you.
"It's kind of implied. You know with the whole 'I have to focus on my driving' thing. Like, what the fuck were you doing for the rest of the time we were together? Nothing changed and you suddenly decided it was too much, then you want me back but I ruined that for you. You'll be seeing me next year, too, so don't even bother with the whole regret speech or whatever."
"I—," Carlos starts, then says nothing.
He can't seem to find the words.
"What? Nothing to say? You wanted to talk. Talk."
"If I am in a team with you or not," he says, slow, calculated, "It does not change that I regret what I said."
Carlos takes a second to think before continuing. That's where you two differ.
Carlos has always been incredibly intelligent. You knew he was gorgeous before you had ever met in person but his mind made him appeal even more to you when you first started working trackside last season. Long, intellectual conversations preceded him asking you out after his masterclass in Singapore.
You nearly started foaming at the mouth when he said "it's on purpose" to keeping your brother within DRS to hold off Mercedes. You were ready to jump his bones right then and there in the middle of the team celebration when he asked you to dinner before you flew back to England.
But he was a gentleman. (He didn't fuck you until after your second date, but it was a close thing that first night when you leaned over the center console to kiss him. You'd have ridden him right there in the front seat of that rental car if your idiot brother hadn't chosen then to walk by and make a scene. Kind of a mood killer.)
The two of you both found fascination in the other's way of thinking, Carlos' smooth logic and your chaotic brilliance. He is all thought and few words while you talk and talk until you find your solution.
You always found beauty in the contrast. You balance each other. Simultaneously alike and disimilar. He is someone you saw yourself building a life with. After nearly a year together, those are the kinds of thoughts you start to have about a partner.
"So, you regret it," you gather, "But do you still think I'm a distraction?"
"Of course, you are a distraction. I am in love with you. There is nothing more distracting than that."
You laugh, disbelieving. "You're in love with me but I'm distracting and you can't be with me? Why? Because you love racing more?"
"I was scared. I was stupid. I am stupid. I am."
"Self deprecation won't do you any favors. But, yeah, you are stupid. You're not making any sense."
"I was scared. You were everything I could think of. I thought I could not find a balance between you and racing. But without you, it is even worse. I want you as a distraction. I know that because I have lost you.”
“You haven’t,” you say before your brain even knows what you’re doing. “Not entirely, yet. Maybe… You’re not allowed to do this again. Ever.”
And you’re crying. Of course.
Carlos is at your side in record time, kneeling in front of you, taking immediate advantage of the crack in your defenses. “Never.”
“You can’t do shit like this. You can’t push me aside like I don’t matter. You can’t call me a distraction.”
“You are a distraction. In the best way.”
Unimpressed and wiping your tears, you say, “Wow. You’re such a poet.”
Carlos laughs thickly. “I love you.”
“Ugh, fuck off.”
You’re still wiping at your face. You didn’t cry when Carlos called it quits, refused to let him have any sort of hold over you when he pushed you aside but now, you’re crying. It’s in relief but you still feel your face getting hot from the embarrassment of it.
He knocks your hands aside to cup your cheeks. “You are the love of my life. I will do whatever it takes to fix what I broke.”
“S’not broken. Just bent. Or whatever the saying is. I don’t fucking care—just kiss me.”
Carlos’ “yes, ma’am” is muffled against your lips.
It’s only been three weeks (three and a half but who’s counting) since he last kissed you but it feels like an eternity.
It’s salty from your tears and wet, also from the tears but more from the way you let his tongue into your mouth after probably not enough time has passed. You don’t care. You just want him.
“I love you," you break the kiss to say. "Don't leave me."
"I won't."
"Say it back."
"I love you. I love you I love you I love you."
.
His words jumble between English and Spanish as he kisses down your body.
Your breath catches as he pulls your hips further down the cushion you're sat on. Stupid F1 driver muscles. You want to sink your teeth into his bicep, make him walk around with the bruise, a reminder of who he belongs to.
He slips his fingers into the waistband of your pants, looks up for permission. You lift your hips. You've missed what his big brown eyes look like when they're all dark with want.
He pulls your pants and underwear down and tosses them aside, tugging you even closer to the edge of the couch. Your legs part. He puts your knees on his shoulders then finally pushes his face between your thighs.
You let your head fall back as you sigh, probably sounding ridiculous but he's always been good at this.
He had you ride his face one time. He practically had to beg to get you to agree. There was a lot of him gripping onto you, arms wrapped around your thighs and hips to force you to stay in place. He'd kept you there until you couldn't stay upright or fight against his hold, coaxing multiple orgasms out of you with just his mouth.
Then, he'd fucked you until you came for a fifth time. (You tell a guy one time about how your last partner hadn't the patience to get more than one orgasm out of you, and he makes it his life's mission to get three or more every time you go at it. How terrible for you. Ha.)
He eats you out like a man starving, like he has something to prove. To be fair, he does but he's not going to be entirely back in your good graces just because he's helping you get off for the first time in three and a half weeks. This is just extra credit.
One of his hands finds yours. He tangles your fingers and holds your hand as he involves his free fingers in slipping past your entrance. You open up for him with obscene ease, legs falling apart even further.
He fucks you with a single finger slow, slow, slow while his tongue licks languidly at your clit.
"Carlos," you whine his name.
You don't need all the pleasure you already know he's more than capable of giving you. You just need to get off already.
"I will get you there, hermosa," he promises with a kiss to your inner thigh.
"Get there faster; I don't want my idiot brother thinking better of his insane plan and letting us out while you're nose-deep in my cunt."
Carlos huffs a laugh. You can feel the air against where you're wet. It makes you squirm.
Usually, Carlos would tell you to stay still and be patient but seems to think better of it this time. You would probably still do as he says, circumstance regardless, but he doesn't need to know that. He just presses his lips back to your pussy.
He sucks on the hardened little bundle of nerves at the joint of your labia just how he knows will make you go limp and needy. He pushes a second then a third finger into you, the stretch just that much more than you can manage with your own, smaller digits.
You could've gotten it with the neglected dildo that lives somewhere mostly forgotten in your closet. There was something that felt so final about bringing out the toy you haven't needed since that second date. Thankfully, you still don't need it. You should consider just pitching it, at this point.
You push your hand through Carlos' hair, brushing the ridiculously perfect locks off his forehead so you can watch his stupid, beautiful face as he goes down on you.
"You're so pretty like this, baby," you praise.
His dark eyes flicker up to you, exhaling against your exposed cunt and shifting his knees on the floor.
You're sure if he had a hand free, he'd be palming himself over his pants. He gets off on you getting off and praise goes straight to his dick. You've got this fantasy of making him come completely untouched but you might need to do actual research on that before it becomes a reality.
He sticks his tongue down with his fingers, lapping at your hole and spitting your wetness onto your clit just because it's hot. Like the way he's slobbering over you isn't enough to make the glide of his tongue over your clit smooth and delectable.
"Come on, baby. Don't tease. Not now."
Carlos makes this little displeased noise in the back on his throat.
Quickies aren't really in Carlos' sexual vocabulary. He occasionally likes it as rough and fast as the next dick-haver but he's more of a spread you open and make love to you for hours at a time kind of guy.
He took you to a secluded little cabana in Mallorca for a week during summer break specifically so you two could spend days on end doing nothing but loving on each other. Then, he took you to meet his family and you had to pretend like you hadn't spent the majority of the week prior with their golden child's dick or fingers or tongue inside of you.
Currently, you're just wanting to find relief without Lando or some other F1 driver walking in on you first.
"Carlos, baby—please."
Carlos likes when you play nice. When you're so desperate for it that your bossy exterior goes away. You tell yourself that you exploit this because your unending pride doesn't like the alternative that you really just are that desperate for it.
He finally starts to finger bang you properly. Combine that with the obscene slurping sounds he's making against your clit and the lack of action for nearly a month and no one could really blame you for not taking long to hit your high.
Heat curls and explodes in your gut and up your spine, back arching, lungs gasping, Carlos' name falling from your mouth as your thighs try to close around his head. He gets his elbows up to hold your legs open. His fingers keep fucking you through your orgasm. He pulls his other hand free of your grip to massage your clit with his thumb, kissing your thighs, pubes, stomach.
He captures your lips in a kiss while you're still riding it out. It's intense and leg-shaking after so long without, emotion-driven, which is the best kind but not worth it after knowing what the fear of losing him is like. You can hardly kiss him back, face pulled in pleausre, moans spilling past your lips that Carlos swallows unburdened.
You tuck your face into his shoulder as he drags it out just to the precipice of overstimulation. You tug him into you, arms around his shoulders, fingers tugging the hair at the base of his skull. He lets his fingers rest inside of you, rests that thumb against your clit so he can hold you back with one arm, at least.
You just breathe for a moment, composing yourself where he can't see your face. The worst may be over but the level of trust you'd built over months together would not be so easily reinstated. He'd have to work hard for that, much harder than a sinlge mind-blowing orgasm.
"Don't leave me," you say in a whisper. "You can't, okay?"
"I won't."
"Promise."
"I promise I will not leave you again. I am the most dumb man if I lose you another time. I will deserve it, then."
"Be smart, then. Like I know you have the capacity to be."
Carlos pulls his fingers out. He catches your shiver, still wrapped up in his one arm. He kisses your cheek before finding something to clean his hands with. You've pulled your pants back on when he's finished.
"Likelihood someone heard us?" you prompt.
"Heard you, you mean?"
You kick at him as he comes back over to you. "Watch it."
He tucks you against his side once he's sat. "Scale?"
"One to a hundred."
"90, at least."
You smack his chest. "Dick."
"You are very loud, mi amor. You talk so much, and you make such pretty noises."
"Don't insult me immediately after I've forgiven you."
You've not drawn away from him at all. In fact, you've tucked your feet up on the couch to curl into him fully.
Carlos knows this. He presses a kiss to your temple.
"I love you. I am sorry I am so stupid."
"I guess I've just got to have enough brains and beauty for the both of us."
"You have always."
You hide your smile in his chest. He holds your thigh when you put your legs across his lap. Now you've got him back, you want to be as close as physically possible. Whoever first said they want to be inside their partner's skin really gets it.
.
George Russell ends up getting sent to let you two out. Evidently, your brother fled the scene of the crime once the yacht returned to port in the early hours of the morning. He dumped the chore of opening Pandora's box on an innocnet bystander.
"I am so sorry—"
"Oh, clever," you say when you spot the poor Brit, "He sends an uninvolved party to let me out like I couldn't track him anywhere in the world. I've his trainer's phone number and Jon likes me more than him. I am going to beat his skinny little muppet ass. When I find him—"
You trip over the tangle of chairs that had been used to barricade the bedroom door from the outside.
Carlos catches your elbow.
"Amor, it is late," he says. "Sleep, first, hm?"
You relax into his hold a bit, a silent concession. It'll be easier to murder your little brother after a good night's sleep, anyway.
"So, are you two...?" George trails off.
You cut him a glare.
"Nothing. Never mind. Apologies."
He speeds around the two of you and off the boat.
"The 2019 rookies are all terrified of you."
"Good."
Carlos laughs. "I am excited to see what Alex is like with you next year."
You smile.
Next year, you'll still be working with Carlos. It'll be at a different team, a midfielder at best but at least Carlos will still be on the grid. He'll still find increasingly laughable excuses to be in engineering just to see you. He'll still come home to you, the same that you'll come home to him.
A future with Carlos is still in the cards. He'll be damned if he messes it up again, you know that much.
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lovifie · 11 months ago
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Fluff | Smut | 1178 words | Back to Masterlist
Simon Riley whose favourite hair was always yours.
The first time he touched your hair, you were both deployed. You were walking before him, your hair in a braid behind your head that was almost hypnotizing. You stick your head from behind a wall, and Simon pulls your braid the moment he hears gunshots to keep you away from the fire line. A whine escapes your lips that sounds almost like a kicked dog and you quickly look back to him. "Thank you, Lt." You mutter.
And in that moment, with your hair still in his hand, he knew he was in trouble.
Your hair doesn't glow in the dark, yet it always draws his attention. Like a lifesaver floating in an ocean. He quickly learns that he can't wait to touch it again, so he observes and waits for a chance to do so.
Like when you were rewriting a report on the mess hall, Price told you it was illegible and taking into consideration Price's handwriting you took it to heart. So there you were, writing again the pages with your best handwriting.
A lock of hair in the middle of your face had Simon almost sprinting to you to move it out of your face before you could it yourself. Of course, he didn't say anything romantic, instead, he said: "You are gonna go blind like that, and you are supposed to watch my back out there."
It wasn't romantic on its own, but his hand remained caressing the hair now behind your ear and when you looked up to meet his gaze, the both of you pulled away from each other as if you had been hit. "That line is dropping, start it again." He comments. "Yes, Lt."
On another occasion, you got late to practice, overslept. Obviously by your bed hair, not even time to brush it. Price quickly told you to fix it and Simon seriously considered if the insubordination would be worth it, because he would rip both his arms off if he could wake up every day with that sight.
It was at that point that Simon realized he was doomed, because he had not been slowly pulled to you, he fell face first and being honest to himself, he was happy with it. He wouldn't admit it yet, it was easier to believe he only liked your hair.
And as time went on, it became more and more easy to find excuses to touch it.
Like when you got sick that one time, waking in the middle of the night to empty your stomach on the toilet. And it went on until the morning, when he found you sitting on the bathroom floor, too weak to walk back to your room.
Face wet with tears for not being able to stop throwing up, for being tired and for feeling useless. He quickly crouched down, paper towel in hand to clean your face. "Why are you here?" He softly asked, mask hiding his expression but his eyes gave away his emotions.
"I got sick." You mumbled, voice hoarse with the strain of the night.
"That I can tell, love." The nickname caught the both of you by surprise, but neither complained. "Let's get you to bed."
You nod, grabbing his hand to stand up, before another round of nausea hits forcing you to back down to throw up again. He quickly moved your hair out of the way grabbing it at the back of your head. "You are gonna get sick, Ghost. Leave me alone, I'm fine."
"Number one, I'm pretty sure your dinner from last night is on my hand, so I believe we are past nicknames now." He says, being interrupted before being able to say the second thing.
"Don't touch my hair with puke on your hand!" You say grabbing his wrist, making him chuckle. You barely had the energy to pull your head up and still tried to fight him.
"I would never, love. That's the other hand." He said looking as you wiped your mouth, breath getting knocked out of him when you lock your gaze on his. "What is it?" You asked, confusing him. "Your name."
"Simon."
"Simon?"
"Simon Riley."
A beat of silence simmered in the bathroom for a second.
"That's a surprisingly sweet name, Simon."
And if the world had ended at that moment, Simon would have died a happy man.
But he didn't, instead, he eased his way into your heart.
It wasn't hard, and soon enough Simon didn't need excuses to touch your hair. And touching your hair was the excuse to get you closer to him.
Like when he was dying to kiss your lips, but you wouldn't look up to him. Why wouldn't you look at him? Couldn't you tell it was killing him? So he fisted your hair, pulling back slightly; enough to make you look up but not enough to sting. And when his eyes met yours, he dived right into your lips. Moving his hands to cup your face instead of your hair, needing to feel the warmth of your skin. The kiss pulling the air from his lungs but still making him feel more alive than ever.
Or like when you finally had the time and intimacy to make love. And when he had you on his bed, knees apart and face buried on his pillow, he fisted your hair again, pulling your head back, because he needed to hear you moan his name while he filled you to the brim. Simon Riley was not a saint, but he would go through the hell his life has been again if it meant he got to experience this. Your cunt milking his dick, your smaller hand grabbing the wrist of his hand on your hip, your moans filling the room and when you looked back to him over your shoulder, his life got meaning and he kissed your lips.
Or like when you would cuddle, and he would do tiny braids on your hair he would forget to undo or tell you about and you would find out hours later when you would try to brush your hair and end up with massive knots. Walking to him ready to throw the brush at his head and you would find him hugging your pillow in his sleep, completely relaxed and content with himself.
Or like when years later, he brushed the hair sticking to your forehead by the sweat while you pushed his daughter to life. If he could take the pain away he would, but he knew you were the strongest woman in this world and could do it. He also knew you needed his comfort, so he moved his hand from your hair to grab your hand even if you crushed every bone inside.
Your hair was always his favourite, until your daughter was born. Because she had Simon's eyes, but she had your hair. And your hair was beautiful, but his little girl's hair was the proof of the love between Simon and you.
Simon Riley loved your hair, but he loved you more.
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