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nayeoniiz · 23 days ago

Text

WEBCAM PERV! (1)

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

genre ❥ smut

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

Webcam Perv! (2)

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in.

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell.

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough.

but to heeseung, it was everything. to him, everything about her was intoxicating, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more.

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

Webcam Perv! (2)

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x you #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung x female reader

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no-144444 · 5 months ago

Note

HI! i love your writing and i was wondering if you would do a grid reacts to us finding out we were a bet? And if you wouldn't mind adding Logan too?

Thanks ml xxxx

the grid reacts: you find out you're a bet!

Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, George Russell, Alex Albon, Charles LeClerc, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Lando Norris

thank you for requesting! xxxx

-----------------

Oscar Piastri:

He walked into your shared apartment, a smile on his face. He hadn’t seen you in a week, and you’d both been too busy to call or text too much, so finally, he’d be back with his girl.

He wasn’t expecting the bare apartment he’d known so well before you’d moved in. He wasn’t expecting your things to be gone, or the note on the table, or your engagement ring beside it.

Dear Oscar,

I found out. I know we were a bet, and I know you’d try to convince me that you loved me, and that it was all real. I don’t doubt that it was real. I know I loved you, and I felt the love from you (either that, or you’re a brilliant actor and picked the wrong profession). But I feel betrayed. I wish you would’ve just come to me immediately and told me how we started, even if I was mad at you for a while. You kept a huge secret for 2 years, Oscar. That’s not a short amount of time. I love you, and I still love you, but I need some time on my own to figure stuff out. I moved back out into my old apartment, and don’t worry, I’m still your girlfriend, but I just wanted space to think. We’ll work our way back up to being fiancé’s but until then, I am still very much yours, unless you don’t want me to be. I need to trust you again.

Love, Y/n.

His heart sank. He knew it was stupid to try and keep it a secret, and it had truly been tearing him apart for the last 2 years, but this… this was too much. He was thankful that you two at least we’re breaking up. But the engagement reversal thing was fucking with him. He adored you. He loved you. Yes, it was stupid, but he did stupid stuff all the time. Forgetting his keys, sleeping through his alarm, wearing his shirt inside out. You always told him it was endearing.

“Hey,” your voice brought him out of his trance. “I wanted to be here when you came back, sorry, there was traffic.”

He turned around to see you. You looked at him. He was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice broke as you nodded.

“I know you are,” you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “We’ll get through this, yeah?”

He nodded, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You let him cry it out for a little while, then pulled away.

“You’ll be ok, we’ll be ok, yeah?”

He sniffled. “Yeah.”

“I love you,” you reminded him, wiping away tears as you went along.

“I love you so much, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just… I was so scared a-and-”

“I understand,” you nodded. “But that doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

He nodded, playing with your engagement ring in his hands. He broke again, sobbing. You wrapped your arms around him again, letting him calm himself down. “Please put it back on,” he whispered, begging you.

You thought about it for a moment. You loved Oscar, and you knew you’d forgive him. It was harder not to forgive him, in all honesty. You’d read his hundreds of drafts of the speeches he had planned to say to you. Lando had shown them to you when he told you. You knew how this had been tearing him apart. But you knew how it stung, being betrayed like this.

“Ok,” you nodded. He slipped the ring back onto your finger and a weight was lifted off of his chest, while one was placed onto yours.

God, maybe love did conquer all. And that idea fucking terrified you.

-----------------

Logan Sargeant:

“Go up to her, she’s a McLaren engineer,” Lewis’s friend’s voice rang out over the speaker of your phone. “I’ll give you 2 grand if you can fuck her tonight.”

“It’s not like I need the money,” Logan smirked, cocky as ever. “But I’ll take that.”

The camera panned to Logan walking up to you, and your world shattered.

------

“Hey babe,” he called, walking into the apartment. There you were sitting, seething on the couch. “How was your weekend?”

“Great,” you answered shortly. “Have you looked at social media recently?”

“No, why?” he asked, resting his hands on your waist. He tried not to read into your stiff posture. Was this the moment? Had you really found out?

“I was a bet,” you sighed, brushing his hands off of you. “And you didn’t even have the heart to tell me.”

You hadn’t planned on crying, you thought you’d scream at him, give him a piece of your mind, but it was hard to get angry when he was standing there, looking so helpless. You loved him, and all you’d ever been to him was a bet. You’d only met a year ago, started dating 6 months ago. You’d meant nothing the entire time. Just a fuck and a check. You just felt… defeated, and used.

“Baby please, let me explain, it’s not what-” He started but you sighed.

“Explain what? That you ‘love’ me? I don’t care. I deserve someone who tells me the truth, and you couldn’t even do that. I had to find out with the rest of the world. Don’t you realise how stupid I look? All the posts I made, everything I told my friends and family, and the entire time it’s all been a lie? I look like a fucking idiot.”

Logan looked down, ashamed. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, taking your hand. “I’ll do anything to make this right, please Y/n, I love you.”

“How am I supposed to trust you? And how am I going to look going back to you? Why did you fuck this all up?” You groaned in frustration. “I fucking loved you!”

“I love you too!” he pleaded. “Please let me make this right, I don’t care about the media, or whatever, I care about you, and I care about us.”

“What ‘us’? We’ve been based on a lie this entire time!”

“Please don’t say that,” he was crying now, so were you. “Please don’t say it was a lie.”

You took your hand from his. “Logan, we’re done. Please don’t contact me.”

And that was that. He broke your heart and you broke his.

-----------------

Daniel Riccardo:

He watched in horror as you opened the message on his phone from Scotty.

“You have to tell her. This isn’t right anymore Dan.”

“What is Scott talking about?” You chuckled.

“Nothing,” Daniel smiled, but it looked forced.

“Dan, come on, you can tell me,” you smiled sweetly.

“Seriously, I have no clue what he’s talking about,” he nervously chuckled.

Your face dropped into an angry frown. “So he was right, you wouldn’t even admit it if I gave you the chance,” you sighed. “That’s great, thanks Daniel.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know about the bet,” you sighed. “Scotty told me last week.”

Daniel sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” you turned to him. “Why would you lie?”

“I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of losing you,” he shrugged. “I thought it would just be better to… keep you in the dark I guess. I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

“I wish you would’ve just told me,” you sighed, looking up at him.

You were both silent for a moment.

“What does this mean for us?” he asked.

“What ‘us’? We were based on a lie Daniel. A lie you told for a whole year.”

“So that’s it?” he gritted out.

“That’s it.”

-----------------

George Russell:

“Have you talked to her about it yet?” Alex asked. “You have to tell her mate, it’s gone on too long.”

“It’s been 6 months Alex, and, by the way, I actually love her,” he scoffed. “I’m trying to figure out the best way to explain it.”

“Explain what? That you were dared to ask her out for money? Mate, you sound like a dick no matter what, she’ll break up with you no matter what,” Alex sighed, disappointed in his friend.

“She’s probably right to,” George admitted. “Fuck!” he groaned.

You stepped into the room, trying to pretend that everything was alright. Both of the men looked up, terrified of what came next.

“Please let me explain,” George rushed out, taking your hand. Alex quickly left you two to speak alone, patting you on the back as he left. George stood up and took your hand.

You nodded. “Explain.”

George’s frown lifted slightly, elated that you would even give him the chance to explain. “It was a stupid bet and I never took any money. I stopped speaking to the guys after we met, and I promise I’ve been trying to tell you, I just… I get scared every time that I’ll lose you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you Y/n. And I’m so sorry.”

You nodded. “I just… give me some time, yeah?”

He nodded. “All the time you need, of course.”

You took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around his neck in a short hug. “I’ll call you, yeah?”

He nodded, letting himself enjoy your embrace. “Please call me. Anytime.”

You pulled back, still holding back your tears somehow. “Yeah. Good luck today.”

“If I win, it’ll be for you. It’s always for you,” he smiled softly.

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaving with a broken heart, and a choice to make.

-----------------

Alex Albon:

“Can we talk?” Alex asked, 2 months in.

“About what?” you questioned. You were sitting in his apartment in Monaco, eating dinner before catching a movie at a nearby cinema.

“How we met.”

“Proceed,” you nodded, turning your full attention to him.

“We met at Jimmy’s, and I was there with my friends, and we were being assholes, and I'm sorry that’s how you met me,” he hesitated. “And that night, I was dared to go up to you, only because they knew I’d never get a chance with you because you’re… well, you’re you, and I’m me. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but we were just having so much fun and-”

“You thought you couldn’t get a chance with me?” You chuckled.

Alex looked up. “Well, no. You’re gorgeous-”

“You’re a very hot Formula 1 driver! Alex, I was losing it when you came up to me!”

“I thought you didn’t know anything about F1?!”

“I don’t! But I know about hot famous guys!”

“You liar!” he laughed.

“You lied too!” you laughed.

He smiled. “ I guess we’re pretty evenly matched then, yeah?”

“I guess,” you shrugged, then leaned over and pressed your lips to his.

-----------------

Charles Leclerc:

You and Charles were new, like new new.But he’d invited you to the paddock nonetheless, and you had the weekend off, so off you went to the Ferrari garage. You’d met the so-called ‘Prince of Monaco’ at an Indycar event a few months back when he got your number, and since then you’d been texting back and forth. He finally asked you out, and you agreed, I mean, who wouldn’t, right? Even though you worked in Indycar, you were a born and raised Monegasquean and you were proud of your heritage, and pretty excited to be dating the Monegasque.

“Oh shit,” Pierre grumbled, bumping into you. Recognition finally crossed his face and he smiled. “Y/n, right? We met at the Indycar thing, right?”

“Hi Pierre, yeah, nice to see you,” you smiled. Behind him came Charles, a bright smile for you.

“Are you here for work or-? Oh, for Charles,” he smirked and turned back to Charles . “Le pari est-il toujours valable?” (is the bet still on?)

Your face faltered. Charles didn’t tell you about any bet. What bet?

“Je ne lui ai pas encore dit,” Charles mumbled. Pierre’s smirk grew, as did the sinking pit in your stomach. (I haven’t told her yet.)

“Hey,” Charles turned to you with a smile on his face.

“Hi,” you nodded, more reserved than before. “Congrats on pole.”

His smile dampened. “Is everything alright?”

“All good,” you mustered up your fakest smile. “Ne parie peut-être pas sur une fille qui vit à Monaco, connard.” (Maybe don't make a bet over a girl who lives in Monaco, asshole.)

Charles looked dumbstruck for a moment, and you left him like that. You were worth more than that.

-----------------

Lewis Hamilton:

“Have you told her yet?” George asked, eying you from the other side of the garage.

Lewis shook his head. “I can’t find the right time.” “You need to tell her soon, it’s only a matter of time before someone else tells her.”

“I know I do, I just… everytime I try to bring it up it’s like she’s extra sweet and perfect and I just can’t break her heart like that-”

“Break who’s heart?” you asked, standing beside Lewis.

George shot him a look to say ‘tell her now’, and he nodded. George left you two to talk.

“I was… I came up to you… I-”

“It was a bet to ask me out, I know,” you nodded, sipping your drink. “Whose heart are you breaking?”

Lewis’s brow furrowed. “Yours?”

“I overheard you and your friends at the bar that night,” you explained. “I don’t care. We’re dating because of it, I love you, blah, blah, blah,” you smiled. “Unless it’s been a charade the whole time-”

“NO! It hasn’t, I love you, I promise,” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed kisses to your cheek as you laughed.

“You thought that would break my heart?”

His ego was becoming a little bit more than bruised. “Hey!”

You laughed. “OK, ok, relax. Yes, it would’ve broken my heart,” you teased.

He pushed you off, smiling. “I don’t want your pity-”

“Not even a pity fuck?” you whispered, a mischievous smirk on your lips.

He smiled. “Well, I always want that.”

-----------------

Max Verstappen:

“Fuck this game!” Max cursed after his game had crashed for the third time. You made your way into the living room, looking in on the game.

“Everything alright?” you asked.

“All good, sorry liefje,” he responded, not even turning around.

“Is that the girl we put the bets on?” One of his friends asked. Max panicked and shut down the stream, then immediately turned to you.

“Liefje…” he started. You stood there in shock.

“Is that true?” you started. “Was I a fucking bet?!” you shouted.

“It- I- Yes, it started like that, but I love you, I-I’m in love with you!”

“How can I ever fucking trust you?” you shot back. “You’re a liar!”

“I’m sorry-”

“What the fuck does ‘sorry’ do? I’m leaving Max. You are so not the man I thought you were,” you pushed past him, grabbing some of your essentials from your bedroom as he followed behind you, begging you to stay.

You left. He was the one who messed up.

All because of a dumb bet.

-----------------

Lando Norris:

He was sweating through his shirt. Max’s eyes bore into him all night, more specifically, how his arm was draped over your shoulder. He understood his best friend’s confusion. It was mere months ago that Lando had been dared to go up to you and ask you out, mere months ago when he sent a photo into the group chat of you sleeping soundly beside him, asking for the transfers from the men who’d told him to ask you out and somehow get you back into his bed before the next morning. Since then, things had in fact changed. He had changed. You had changed him.

“Lan,” Max hissed. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Max,” Lando mumbled. “Not now.”

“She deserves to know,” Pietra shook her head. “Y/n, listen to me, I know Lando had probably been a lovely guy but he asked you out because he was dared to-”

“Pietra!” Lando groaned. “What the fuck!”

You turned to Pietra, pushing Lando’s arm off of you. “Are you serious?”

“She’s telling the truth,” Max added.

“Y/n please, just let me explain-”

“There’s nothing to fucking explain. You’re an asshole, don’t call me again,” you scoffed, getting up and leaving with Pietra following quickly behind.

Lando was helpless.

-----------------

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

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thestrangepoet · 4 months ago

Text

The Ninth Life | The Magnus Archives One Shot

Based on @ultramarinaa's Cat!Martin AU, and not upon @coworkerjonathan's soul-destroying tragic version of it. If you want that version, it's here.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Buttocks-clenchingly sweet fluff.

DISCLAIMER: I, once again, wrote this in an hour and haven't proofread it. Forgive the typos and any “first draft” vibes.

──── •✧• ────

[CLICK]

Oop, yup, it’s on! Right, erm…This is Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute. I thought it would be a good idea to—

[A VERY LOUD, VERY RASPY HISSING CUTS MARTIN OFF]

[A LONG, WEIGHTY PAUSE FOLLOWS; SOMEONE IS BEING GLARED AT]

What? I-I mean, given the absolute palaver we just went through, shouldn’t we record what happened and how we fixed it?

[SILENCE FOLLOWS. BUT MARTIN EVIDENTLY GETS HIS ANSWER]

Exactly! Right, so…ah-hem. This is Martin Bla—

[ONCE AGAIN, A LOUD HISS]

What? What is wrong with—No, Jon, you’re going to hit the—!

[CLICK]

[MARTIN RUFFLES SOME PAPERS, THEN EXHALES LOUDLY THROUGH HIS NOSE. WHEN HE SPEAKS THIS TIME, IT’S SOMEWHAT TAUT]

Statement of Martin Blackwood, Archival Assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding an encounter with a feline-based Leitner book called The Ninth Life. Recorded by subject, October 17th, 2017.

Happy now?

[LOUD PURRING NEAR THE TAPE RECORDER SIGNIFIES THAT MARTIN HAS INDEED DONE A PASSABLE JOB]

Good, good. Right, oop! Yeah, okay, you can…sit on my lap while I record this. That’s not…that’s not weird at all. Knowing you’re…you’re Jon.

…You could at least sit like a cat, Jon. No, no, no, don’t get the claws out, it’s fine! Sit how you want! Heh…K-keeping an eye on me, hmm? While I record? Oh, r-right, yeah, ‘Get on with it, Martin’, noted!

So…about ten weeks ago, I came across a book while tidying through some of the old statement boxes. I’m not sure why it wasn’t in the library or in Artefact Storage, but I suppose that’s a mystery for another time. A-anyway, I had a flick through to try to figure out what it was. Could have just been a normal book, you know? E-especially since it wasn’t put away properly, I mean, really, that’s a health and safety risk that wasn’t my fault, and—Ow! Claws!

R-right, ‘Stay on the subject, Martin’, loud and clear…

Where was I? O-oh, right. So I took it through to the break room, sat down with it, flicked through, read a few…err, well, ten pages to be precise, and basically, it was written like an old fairy tale. Something about a man who turned into a cat to get away from everyone and…W-well, what I’m trying to say is that it didn’t seem like a Leitner!

I’d probably have finished reading the whole thing, but the microwave dinging made me jump and look up. No one usually uses the microwave outside of lunch hours, but Jon actually makes cups of tea by microwaving mugs of water and then—Ah-ah-ow! N-no, I’m not getting claw-bullied into not telling people the heinous way you make tea, Jon!

Right, right, fine! Yes, so, microwave dings, I look up from the book, and…I drop the book. And I drop to the floor, a-and the book’s suddenly huge, and there’s Jon, and he’s looking at me, and…

…and I was a cat. I-I-I guess Jon hadn’t noticed me in the break room before putting his mug in the microwave, because he didn’t realise I was me. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up, held over his shoulder, petted and cooed at and—Owwww, claws, claws! Right, okay, no, no one can know Jonathan Sims has a heart, right you are!

E-erm, so…Yeah. Panicked a bit. I-I tried to make it obvious to the others that it was me, but they just didn’t cotton on. And I couldn’t read the book to figure out if the ending would tell me how to turn back. O-or if I even would turn back. Honestly, in any other situation, I-I might have been really terrified, but it’s hard to keep worrying when people are suddenly stroking you and giving you all this affection. Heh, Jon even named me Champion.

But, right, I-I really needed to turn back into a human. You know, as lovely as it was to be liked by everyone, I figured, well, it’s deeply unprofessional to turn into a cat at work, isn’t it? And I really didn’t want to be written up for unauthorised absences when I was technically in the room?

It took a while – I don’t know who moved it, but the book had gone when I managed to slink back into the break room, had to wait for someone to open the door for me, you see – but I eventually found The Ninth Life again.

It took ages to drag it over to Jon’s desk. And even longer for him to stop laughing and telling me what dedicated little chap I was. He picked up the book though, and I got so excited that someone would finally realise a Leitner was in play that I jumped up onto his desk and…

…and I…erm…I knocked his cup of tea over the book.

I could feel my heart sinking. What if I’d ruined it? What if the answer was all smudged up? Jon could tell I was upset, and he started trying to pet me and calm me down, mopping up the tea and everything. Took a while before he got back to the book, and, well…the bookplate had been smeared by the spilt tea, I guess, because he didn’t see any mention of Leitner at the front. He started reading the book, and I tried to nudge him to read the back pages first, to get to the answer before the book could turn him into a cat, but he, erm…well, he read it. Five pages, we think.

And there he was.

One minute, Jon’s at his desk, the next, there’s a little black cat with too many scars sitting in his chair.

Well, after he’d stopped hissing, running around the room – Tim thought he had zoomies, ha ha! – and bapping me on the head every time I got close, he realised who I was.

And then, he bapped me on the head again.

So. We were both cats! And it’s so funny, because in the office, Tim and Sasha and me, we all say how Jon gives off major black-cat energy? He’s like this poor wet cat in human form, and now that he was a cat, and it turned out, he is…w-well, he’s not very good at being a cat?

[A LOUD HISS – EVIDENTLY, MARTIN HAS FORGOTTEN JON IS SITTING THERE]

Don’t hiss at me! You know it’s true. I mean, look, you’re literally sitting in my lap now like a human. Cats don’t do that, Jon! It looks weird!

R-right, okay, let’s, erm, get on with the story – ah, statement, statement! – before I get scratched again.

S-so, right, Jon wasn’t really getting the hang of being a cat. He kept clambering up onto desks to type on keyboards, trying to tell Tim what was happening. He wouldn’t even jump up onto the desks, he would literally shimmy up the leg like he was climbing a tree. And, yeah, he doesn’t sit in your lap like a cat, all curled up, no no, he sits…like a person sits. So I figured actually, this was pretty good, someone had to realise something was up with this cat that just wasn’t catting.

But no. No, no, Tim just laughed and named Jon Skrunkly and got on with his day.

[A LONG, LOW MIAOW OF CONTEMPT IN THE BACKGROUND]

Nooo! You’re not skrunkly at all, Jon! You’re a very handsome little kitty!

[A HISS]

Right, right! Back to work! Erm, yeah, so, there I am, trying to teach Skr–err, Jon how to act more like a cat. Not because it would help get us back to normal, but because I was worried? He kept falling off stuff, not landing on his feet…jumping and missing things…He was having a really hard time, and I figured if we were stuck like this indefinitely, it might help to, you know…teach him a bit?

And then, one day, he just…vanished. I wandered in one morning from the canteen, ‘cause Sasha had snuck me a plate of milk, and I couldn’t find Jon anywhere. Tim realised pretty quickly that something was up, that I wouldn’t settle down, and then he noticed Skrun–err, Jon, was missing.

It took days for me to sniff him out. Which is…a really weird thing to say out loud. On record. Erm. I sniffed my boss out. But it’s insane, as a cat, the difference in senses, a-and to be honest, my eyesight was dreadful because I obviously couldn’t wear my glasses. A-anyway, sniffed him out, and realised he had somehow fallen into the tunnels through the trapdoor? Which is weird as well, ‘cause the trapdoor is always closed. No one would have opened it?

[ANOTHER LOW MIAOW, BUT THIS ONE SOUNDS STRANGELY LIKE SKRUNKLY IS TRYING TO SPEAK – IT ALMOST SOUNDS LIKE HE’S SAYING ‘SASHA!’]

I know, Jon, you’ll tell us when you, erm, get back.

So, now I knew where he was, I went into full hyperkitty mode. I was zooming around, miaowing, pawing, jumping on Tim, jumping at Tim, launching myself off bookshelves, you name it! Somehow, I managed to get the message across, and Tim went to open the trapdoor.

I…I hate going into the tunnels. I really, really hate it. But Jon was down there, and as far as we knew, he’d been down there with no food and water for days! So, down I jumped, with Tim clambering after me telling me to slow down. I kept sniffing, and it was actually pretty easy to find him after that!

There he was, curled up and shaking near a wall, and I ran towards him, miaowing my head off so he knew we were coming to the rescue, and…

And I…changed back. Right there. Just pop! There I was.

Tim, erm…Tim screamed. Jon hissed and nearly ran away. It was chaos, and…I’m actually surprised all three of us made it out. Especially with Jon going wild on Tim and clawing him every time he tried to pick him up. What was that about, anyway, we were helping you!

[ANOTHER GRUMBLING MIAOW – DID SKRUNKLY SEE SOMETHING IN THE TUNNELS? OR SOMEONE? WAS HE TRYING TO TELL THEM?]

We got back up to the office, Jon in tow, and now that I could speak, Tim, Sasha and I managed to hash out a theory.

Basically, we figure that there are a lot of Leitner books that kind of do different things depending on how much you read of them. S-so we have one on record, A Disappearance, if you read one line, you disappear for a bit. But, if you read the whole book, you disappear from the world for good.

I read ten pages of The Ninth Life, and I was a cat for ten weeks. Checks out! So we reckon Jon read about five pages, and it’s been three weeks, so…two weeks of Skrunkly to go!

Right, think that’s it. Yeah! So, erm, if you’re looking for a cure for The Ninth Life, just enjoy your time as a kitty and wait it out! U-unless you read the whole book, in which case, erm…I-I really hope you enjoy your life as a cat.

End recor–Ow! What did I miss off this time?

[SEVERAL LIGHT THUDS SOUND]

Why are you pawing the book, Jon? I…oh. Right.

Erm…I think Jon wants it on record that, erm…the book is eleven pages long. And…and I read ten pages.

[THUD-THUD-THUD!]

Yes, yes, all right, you microwaving your tea saved me from an eternity as a cat! That does not mean I am going to let you continue to ruin perfectly good cups of tea like that!

[A LOUD MIAOW OF PROTEST. MARTIN SIGHS]

Recording ends.

[CLICK]

#tma cats #cat!martin #tma fanfic #the poet's writings

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shinestarhwaa · 7 months ago

Text

DADDY DEAREST || CHOI SAN

Genre: Smut

Pairing: San x Fem reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: Dilf!San (aged 40), reader is 21 years old, forbidden love kinda, ceo!San, student!reader, daddy kink, unprotected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, blow job, praise kink, dirty talk, daddy kink, filming sex, jerking off

I've had this in my drafts for months and finally it's coming to life y'all

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @vesvosmozhno @therealcuppicake @unholywriters @enbymingi @jjoongstar

ENJOY!

You had been eyeing him from across the bar for hours, but he just wouldn't look your way. "Just go up to him," your friend said, "go up to him and flirt with him!" "But what if he's a creep?" "Just send your location if you're going somewhere with him," your friend said before pushing you into the direction of the handsome man sitting at the bar.

Taking a deep breath, you strutted towards him, your stiletto heels clicking on the wooden floor as you did so. You took place on the blue velvet stool next to him and flashed the man a smile, batting your long eyelashes at him. You could tell by the expression on his face he was immediately intrigued by your presence.

"Hi there," he said, turning towards you, "what's a lovely lady like you doing here alone?" You grinned and ordered a martini, tossing your hair back over your shoulder. "Oh, I'm not alone, my friends are in the back." "Ah," the man smiled and gave you a nod. You licked your lips before speaking again. "But I came here to the bar by myself 'cause you looked rather lonely and I figured you must like having some company," you smiled, drinking from the cocktail in your hand. He grinned and turned his body to yours.

''Well, I didn't have anything to do or anyone to come home to so... I figured I'd have a drink here.'' Your ears perked up and you took another sip of your martini. ''No one to come home to, you say?'' You spoke to him with a pout on your rosy lips, your hand gently resting on his. Your fingers traced the veins on the man's hand and you noticed him swallowing thickly.

''That's right... No one to come home to. What about you? You're here to find someone or are you out with your friends because you're tired of your boyfriend?'' he grinned. You laughed and shook your head. ''No, my boyfriend's an ass so I dumped him this morning. That's what he deserves for dipping his pen in the company ink if you know what I mean,'' you sighed. ''Oh, so you're here to look for a rebound, I get it,'' he smirks. ''I'm San, by the way.'' ''Nice to meet you San, I'm Y/N,'' you said, batting your eyes at him.

This flirting game wasn't new to you. You knew just what to do to make a guy weak but you've never tried an older man before. But after the shit boys your age put you through you're over it, you are ready for someone older. And San looked like the perfect guy for it.

You sat and talked with San for nearly the entire night. You found out he's double your age and he's a CEO of a big skincare company. He laughed loudly when you told him you couldn't live without the brand. ''Well what if I'd give you products for free?'' he grinned. ''Oh, you would?'' ''Well, you're too pretty to say no to.'' ''So you'll say yes to whatever I ask of you?'' He smiled and rolled his eyes, his hand landing on your exposed knee. ''Probably. I'm a sucker for those eyes of yours, cannot take my own of them.''

''So, if I ask you to take me home tonight...'' ''I would in a heartbeat, my darling.'' You smirked as his fingers traveled up your thigh. ''You'd treat me better than my stupid ex-boyfriends, wouldn't you?'' ''Oh baby I would, you have no idea.'' You smirked and took his hand in yours. ''Then take me home and show me.''

Only 15 minutes later you signed to your friends you'd be leaving and you made your way to his huge luxury apartment nearby. You couldn't believe your eyes when you got in, seeing the gorgeous interior San had. Before you could say anything his lips were on yours.

San's lips were so soft and they moved skillfully. He wasn't sloppy or too harsh but perfect. This is what you needed; a man who knew what he was doing. All your ex lovers were just doing whatever, not really caring about your pleasure, but San was seemingly different.

His hands roamed your body and zipped down your dress, which fell down to pool at your ankles. You were left in the lacy lingerie set you put on earlier that night and you noticed the way San stared at you after breaking your kiss.

Your hands worked on his white shirt, unbuttoning it as fast as you could while you were stumbling through the hall, on the way to his bedroom. You nearly tore his shirt off and San took off his belt in the process, the metal buckle clashing against the floor tiles. It was a struggle to move through the apartment while keeping on stealing kisses.

Finally when you got to the bedroom he took off his pants and laid down on the large bed. You smirked and laid on top of him, connecting your lips together once more.

San's hands roamed your ass and squeezed it every now and then, while his tongue explored your mouth. Your hands ran across his toned chest and arms and his chiseled abs. He was absolutely to die for, looking like a Greek God in his 40s.

You started to grind your crotch against his, awakening the cock that was still hid by his underwear. He moaned into your mouth and fidgeted with your bra-clasp before undoing it and throwing it to the other side of the room. You sat up and threw your hair back, licking your lips while looking into his eyes seductively.

"God, baby girl you have no idea what you're doing to me," he grunted as you moved your crotch over his once again. His hands traveled from your waist up to your breasts to cup them. "You're perfect," he breathed out, starting to massage your boobs. "You should come closer so I can have them in my mouth."

A smirk played on your lips as you did so, crawling above him until your breasts reached his face. He started to lick and suck on them while his dominant hand found your clothed pussy. He started to rub your folds through your panties, feeling the fabric getting wet at his touch.

You whimpered above him, clenching your needy pussy around nothing. "You're so wet for me," San said before circling your nipples with his tongue. "Yes, daddy, for you," you moaned. The older man laid you down and took off your wet panties.

Immediately you spread your legs for him, awakening a hungry look in his eyes. San laid between your legs and slid his fingers through your wet folds, moaning at the feeling. "Bet you've missed looking at a young, tight pussy like mine," you teased him with a breathy laugh. "Oh, I sure did. Look at this perfect wet pussy," he grunted, licking a stripe up from your hole to your clit, "Perfectly wet for me, ready to be abused."

You let out another whimper as he kept lapping at your pussy. Your hands ran through his raven hair and you pushed his face deeper into your cunt. San's tongue found your entrance and slid his tongue in and out before circling your clit again. He lapped and sucked on your cunt, savouring all the arousal spilling out of you. Your hands fondled and massaged your own breasts.

He focussed on your clit, circling it with his tongue and sucking on it, earning a row of high pitched moans from you. He made you feel sensations you hadn't felt for a long time now and you wanted it to go on and on forever. Your legs locked his body between them, face pushed deep into your soaking heat.

San pushed 2 of his thick fingers into your cunt, pumping them in and out of your hole as his tongue was still flicking against your sensitive clit. It didn't take long before San found a sensitive spot inside you, noticing your reaction to it immediately. Naturally he started to abuse it, hitting it repeatedly as he sucked on your clit.

He didn't pressure you to cum fast, like many other lovers had. San focussed on pleasuring you, not caring how long he had to keep lapping at your clit.

But soon enough you felt a coiling desire for release in your abdomen, your moans growing louder. "D-daddy, daddy I'm coming, c-coming for you," you panted out before releasing and coming undone on his fingers and tongue.

You panted softly before sitting up and pinning the older man down on the bed. Stripped from his clothes he looked beautiful in all his naked glory. His cock was beautiful and large and so thick it made your mouth water at the sight.

You lowered your head into his lap and pressed kisses along his thick shaft before giving the head of his cock soft kitten licks. He groaned softly and you felt your entire body react to it immediately, pussy clenching around nothing. His reactions to you taking him into your mouth made you more eager than ever. You started to bob your head up and down calmly, sucking his hard cock. He grunted beneath you, his breathing getting louder and his eyes rolling back into his head.

''Darling, please-” He moaned as he felt himself hit the back of your throat. You tasted his pre-cum on your tongue and you could tell how close he was lo cumming down your throat. Quickly he pulled you off his cock and watched your face pout in disappointment.

“Don’t want to cum in your pretty mouth while I could also cum in that tight young pussy of yours... Need to fuck you right now angel.”

He pulled you on top of him and you held onto his broad shoulders. Soon enough you sank down on his hardness and you could feel San stretching your poor pussy out. You moaned loudly, looking down and seeing his cock disappear between your thighs.

''You're so pretty and warm babygirl, oh my God, so tight, bet you've never been fucked right,'' he grunted. ''N-No they've never fucked me right, God, I need you, need a real man like you,'' you moaned to butter him up and tease him even more.

''Bet your boyfriend wishes he was inside you right now. How did he make you feel Y/N? Did he fuck you as good as this? Like I can?'' he grunted while he fucked up into you, his hands groping your ass and thighs. ''N-No, fuck, his cock was too small, d-didn't feel anything, you make me feel everything, San, fuck me harder daddy, please!''

While San pounded into you from beneath he also took your phone. ''Unlock it. Let's make that bastard who hurt you jealous. Wanna make him miserable for wasting such a pretty girl's time.'' You unlocked your phone and handed it back over to San.

You leaned back, displaying your naked body while you moaned loudly. San started to film you getting your cunt pounded by him and you might've been acting a little extra pornographic for the video but San didn't mind. Even though he didn't know the guy he desperately wanted to claim you and make him lose his mind.

''That's right baby, take my cock, you're taking it so well, huh?'' ''Y-Yes daddy, fuck, love your cock so much, you're gonna make me cum!''

Right then he turned the camera off and tossed the phone onto the bed, fucking into you even harder. ''That small-dicked idiot will never get to see you cum again. You're just gonna cum on my cock now, won't you?''

''Yes, yes please I wanna cum on your cock, yes!'' you cried out. In a matter of a few thrusts you came undone on his thick cock. You moaned loudly and your body shook as the orgasm came over you. San pulled you off his cock and laid you down, hovering above you before fisting his own cock.

With a loud moan he spurted his cum over your abdomen, painting you white. ''Fuck, daddy,'' you moaned softly. ''That's my good girl,'' San smirked.

After the both of you came down from your highs he got a cold, moist towel and cleaned you up nicely before placing his blanket over you. You snuggled into it and closed your eyes, but whined when he got up. ''Stay with me,'' you mumbled softly, feeling sleepy but also cuddly.

San smiled and laid down. It conflicted with his morality, sure, sleeping with a 21-year old was already a bit over the line but actually sleeping and cuddling with one, wanting to date one... Was that okay?

Luckily you knocked those thoughts right out of his head when you laid on his chest, drifting off to sleep. He soon did the same, dreaming of eating your pussy the next morning when he'd wake up.

#kpop #ateez #shinestarhwaa #smut #san #choi san

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harryssyndrome · 3 months ago

Text

Best Brother Ever | h.s

Pairing: Husband!Dad!Harry x Wife!Mom!Reader

summary: a sweet Sunday afternoon with the styles family and Alex being the best big brother.

Word count: 2.6k || MASTERLIST 𓇼🌊⋆🐚🫧

Posted On: November 7th, 2024

I got really inspired by a cute reel I saw on Facebook and since then this sweet fluff has been sitting in my drafts for months and I’m really happy with how it turned out! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do ♡ let me know your thoughts in comments! Like & reblog are truly appreciated 🥰 REQUEST ARE OPEN.

It was a peaceful Sunday morning in the Styles household, and the cozy, familiar sounds of home filled the air. In the kitchen, YN moved around with practiced ease, stirring a pot, chopping vegetables, and tasting spices with a focused concentration. She’d been at it for a while now, determined to make Harry’s mom, Anne, feel right at home with her favorite dish. In the background, 18 by One Direction played softly, and YN found herself humming along, her voice a gentle echo to the lyrics.

Though the band had gone on indefinite hiatus years ago, and each of the boys had branched off into their own solo careers, YN hadn’t stopped listening. She was a Directioner through and through, and she knew in her heart she’d never let go of those songs—they were part of her story, her history with Harry, and her dreams.

Meanwhile, in the living room, their six-year-old son, Alex, was lying on the mat with Berry, their playful family dog, gently scratching behind Berry’s ears. Berry’s tail thumped in delight, and Alex giggled as the dog rolled over, waiting for belly rubs. The two were inseparable, each one the other’s partner in mischief.

After a few minutes, Alex felt a tickle of thirst, and with his usual burst of energy, Alex stopped scratching and said, “Oh Berry didn’t you get tired of all the scratching? I know, I know you were enjoying it but it’s time for a break, I’m thirsty. You don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone! Granny likes it when you’re a good boy.” He then sprang up and ran to the kitchen, tiny footsteps echoing across the hardwood floor.

“Alex, no running in the kitchen, remember?” YN gently reminded him, glancing over her shoulder with a smile.

Alex skidded to a stop, giving her an innocent look. “Sorry, Mama.” He then carefully walked to the fridge, his small hand reaching for a water bottle. After unscrewing the cap and taking a long sip, he paused, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

Looking up at his mom, he noticed how she’d been working by the stove for a while. The warmth from the flames made the kitchen a bit stuffy, and in that moment, his little mind put two and two together. Carefully holding out the bottle to her, he asked, “Mama, do you want some water too?”

YN paused, touched by the thoughtful gesture. The little boy was caring just like his father. Her heart swelled with pride and warmth at her son’s understanding, and she leaned down to pull his cheeks before pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Thank you, sweetheart. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

Alex beamed up at her, delighted by her kiss, and handed her the bottle with a shy smile. YN took a small sip, her heart feeling full in the best way possible. Moments like these, simple and unassuming, were what made her life feel so complete.

YN glanced around the kitchen, realizing she hadn’t seen Harry in a while. She turned to Alex, who was still grinning from her earlier kiss, and asked, “Where’s your daddy?”

Alex paused, looking thoughtful. “He’s giving Amelia a bath!” he replied brightly.

YN chuckled, wiping her hands on a towel. “Don’t you think he’s taking a little too long?”

Without another word, Alex took off down the hall, announcing over his shoulder, “I’m gonna check!”

YN shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued stirring the pot. But barely a minute later, she heard Alex’s laughter ring out, loud and delighted, carrying all the way back to the kitchen. Curious, she wiped her hands and followed the sound down the hallway, wondering what on earth could have him so amused.

When she reached the bathroom, she found Alex standing at the doorframe, giggling uncontrollably. YN peeked over his shoulder, and the sight before her was too good not to laugh herself.

Harry stood by the sink, almost drenched, his shirt soaked and clinging to him, while his hair, wet and messy, hung down in front of his eyes. Amelia, their 15-month-old daughter, squirmed in his arms, wrapped in a fluffy towel that he was struggling to keep around her tiny, wiggling frame. Amelia, completely entertained, let out a series of squeals and giggles, delighted by the whole chaotic scene.

Harry looked up, his eyes meeting YN’s as he tried—and failed—to blow a strand of wet hair out of his face. “She’s, uh… a slippery one,” he said with a helpless smile, shifting Amelia as she kicked her tiny feet, clearly thrilled by all the attention.

YN chuckled, stepping into the bathroom to take over. “I think you’ve gotten just as much of a bath as she has,” she teased, reaching for Amelia.

“Believe me, I know,” Harry replied, surrendering his squirming daughter into YN’s arms. As soon as she was safely in her mother’s embrace, Amelia nuzzled into YN, her little face lighting up with another round of happy giggles.

Alex, still laughing, tugged at Harry’s soaked shirt. “Daddy, you’re all wet!”

Harry ruffled Alex’s hair, a lopsided grin on his face. “Well, that’s what happens when you try to bathe a little mermaid,” he joked, winking at YN.

YN smiled, cradling Amelia close as the baby snuggled into her, finally calm. Glancing up at Harry, she added with a playful grin, “Maybe next time I’ll leave the bath duty to you again. You look like you’re having way too much fun.”

Harry raised his hands in surrender, laughing. “Only if I get a raincoat next time.”

With everyone still giggling, the air filled with warmth and laughter. For YN, it was yet another reminder of how these simple, unplanned moments held the truest joy.

After drying Amelia’s soft curls and dressing her in an adorable denim overall dress, YN gave her a little pat, sending her off with Alex, who eagerly took her tiny hand. “Come on, Amelia! Let’s play in the backyard!” he declared, guiding her to the door as she toddled along, wide-eyed and giggling.

Meanwhile, Harry changed out of his soaked clothes and slipped into a comfortable hoodie and shorts. Feeling refreshed, he wandered back to the kitchen to find YN putting the finishing touches on lunch. She was focused, stirring one last pot, her face glowing with that contented look he loved.

“Smells amazing,” he murmured, slipping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. She relaxed into him, smiling as she gave the pot one final stir.

“Thank you,” she replied, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. “I wanted everything to be perfect for your mom.”

Harry pressed a light kiss to her cheek. “It already is perfect. Besides, Mom’s really coming to see you and the kids. I’m just… here for decoration,” he joked, earning a laugh from YN.

She turned to face him, resting her hands on his chest. “Pretty good decoration, I’d say,” she teased back, her eyes sparkling. “Can’t say I mind having you around.”

He grinned, taking her hand in his. “And I can’t say I mind this whole thing… you, me, the kids, Sunday lunches. I think we’re doing alright, don’t you?”

YN’s smile softened, her heart warmed by his words. “I’d say we’re doing better than alright.”

When lunch was ready, they carried everything to the living room and settled comfortably on the sofa, filling their plates and savoring each other’s company in the cozy quiet. Berry, their loyal dog, lay stretched out on the floor nearby, watching them with sleepy eyes, as though content to be part of their little family moment. But the peace didn’t last long; as soon as Berry heard the sound of laughter from the backyard, he was on his feet and bounding toward the door, ready to join Alex and Amelia in whatever adventure they were up to.

Harry and YN shared a glance, amused, and Harry sighed with a laugh. “Should we go see what they’re getting into out there?”

YN nodded, grinning. “Definitely.”

Hand in hand, they headed toward the backyard porch deck, hearts full and laughter on their lips, ready to join in on the joy of the afternoon.

Harry and YN strolled out into the backyard, enjoying the sight of Alex and Berry playing an enthusiastic game of chase. Alex was giggling as he kicked the ball across the grass, Berry hot on his heels, barking and wagging his tail, clearly in his element.

But their attention quickly turned to little Amelia, who was standing by the swing set, her tiny fingers gripping the seat as she attempted to climb up. She’d tugged it down a few times, her determination evident in her scrunched-up face, but every time she tried to lift her legs, they just didn’t reach. She let out a tiny, frustrated squeal, her cheeks pink with effort.

Alex spotted her from across the yard and immediately abandoned his ball game, trotting over with Berry following close behind. “I’m coming, Amy! I’ll help you,” he declared, a serious expression crossing his little face. The way he spoke, it was as if he were preparing to climb a mountain, not help his baby sister onto a swing.

He placed a comforting hand on Amelia’s shoulder, patting her gently. “Don’t worry, Amy. I’ll get you up there,” he reassured her. Berry sat down nearby, tilting his head as if watching the scene unfold with keen interest.

Alex held the swing steady, lowering it slightly to make it easier for her to grab. Amelia gave it her best shot, tugging herself forward and then clinging to her brother’s back, her small legs kicking as she tried to hoist herself up. But she kept slipping back down with a tiny thud, her face scrunched in concentration.

Seeing her struggle, Alex crouched down thoughtfully, tapping his chin with one finger like he’d seen his dad do when he was deep in thought. “Okay, hm… maybe try to use my back like a lil’ stool?” he offered, glancing up at her with a hopeful smile. “I’ll be like a step!”

Amelia’s eyes lit up, and she gave him an excited nod, as if this was the most brilliant plan she’d ever heard. Alex crouched down in front of the swing, bracing himself. “Alright, Amy, climb on!” he called out, his voice full of determination.

With a delighted giggle, Amelia leaned onto her brother’s back and clutched his T-shirt with her chubby little hands. She climbed as best as she could, trying to pull herself up—but her grip on his shirt only tightened as she clambered, her arms slipping around his neck. Alex winced, his voice coming out in a slightly strained laugh. “Amy… you’re kinda… choking me,” he gasped, though he kept steady, determined to help her however he could.

Harry and YN watched from nearby, biting back their laughter as Alex tried to be the perfect big brother, his determination and care making them both melt a little inside. Berry, still sitting close by, tilted his head again, ears perked as he followed every bit of the action.

Eventually, Alex, catching his breath, stood up, looking down at his sister with a thoughtful frown. “Alright, Amy, let’s try it another way,” he said, more determined than ever to help her reach her goal.

He pointed at the swing seat with a very serious expression, bending down to her level. “Just try to sit on it. Right here,” he said, gesturing to the exact spot where she should aim. “Watch, I’ll show you.”

With exaggerated care, he climbed onto the swing himself, wiggling around on the seat to demonstrate how to sit properly. Then he hopped off and held the swing firmly in place again, giving her an encouraging nod. “Okay, now you try.”

Amelia looked at him, wide-eyed with admiration for her big brother, and then turned back to the swing. She grasped it carefully with both hands, her face full of concentration, and this time, after a few wobbly attempts, she managed to pull herself up, finally plopping down on the seat with a triumphant squeal.

Alex’s face broke into a huge grin. “You did it, Amy!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “You’re a big girl now!”

Amelia giggled, her cheeks flushed with excitement, and Alex gave the swing a gentle push, sending her gliding back and forth, her delighted squeals filling the backyard. Each time she swung forward, she let out a little giggle, her laughter filling the air.

Harry and YN stood side by side, their arms wrapped around each other as they watched Alex carefully push Amelia on the swing. Her joyful squeals mixed with the gentle creak of the swing, and Alex’s steady encouragement filled the air. Berry trotted nearby, tail wagging, occasionally glancing up as if to make sure everything was under control.

Harry tightened his arm around YN’s shoulders, pulling her close as he shook his head in admiration. “He’s… he’s really the best big brother, isn’t he?” he said, his voice soft with awe. “Look at him—so gentle with her, so patient. I can’t believe he’s only six.”

YN beamed, her eyes fixed on their son as she watched him push Amelia with such care, his face serious with concentration, as if he were on an important mission. “I know,” she replied, her voice warm with pride. “He’s amazing with her, isn’t he? Always looking out for her, always so sweet. I feel like we’re really… doing something right.”

Harry looked down at her, a playful glint in his eyes. “Well, I think you’re doing most of it right,” he teased, bumping her shoulder with his. “I’m just here to make sure they know how to make a mess and have fun.”

YN laughed, nudging him back. “Oh, please, Harry—you’re their hero. Every time you walk in, they light up. You’re like their personal superhero.”

Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know about ‘superhero,’ but… seeing them like this, watching them take care of each other? That’s everything.” He paused, his gaze softening as he looked back at Alex and Amelia. “They’re so lucky to have each other. And I think… we’re pretty lucky to have them, too.”

YN nodded, her heart swelling as she took in the scene—their two little ones, working together, supporting each other in their own innocent, unfiltered way. “It’s moments like these that make it all worth it, don’t they?” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder. “All the late nights, all the messy meals and chaotic mornings… all of it. Seeing them happy, and kind, and just… them.”

Harry gave her a soft smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We’ve got a good thing going, don’t we?” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I couldn’t imagine a better team than this. You and me… and these two.” He gestured toward Alex and Amelia, his eyes crinkling with pride. “We’re doing something right, YNN. I know we are.”

Just then, Alex looked over his shoulder and spotted his parents watching. His face lit up with pride, and he called out, “Look, Mum! Dad! Amy’s swinging! I got her up here all by myself!”

YN and Harry exchanged a warm glance before waving back, beaming with pride. “You’re the best big brother, Alex!” YN called out, giving him a big thumbs-up. “Amy’s so lucky to have you.”

Alex’s cheeks flushed with pride, and he turned back to Amelia, giving her swing another gentle push. “Did you hear that, Amy? Mum and Dad said I’m the best big brother ever!” he whispered to her, smiling from ear to ear.

Watching him, Harry gave YN’s hand a gentle squeeze. “We’re raising some pretty great kids, aren’t we?” he murmured, his eyes sparkling with pride. “If nothing else, I’d say we’re getting that part just right.”

YN looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Couldn’t agree more.”

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svndaysaweek · 11 months ago

Text

Overture (Prequel to Enlightenment) — {Feat. Karina}

8.7k words

A/N: You don’t know how old this draft is… I still remember that anon who sent a few asks about this series, and I really hope that they read this! This one is the longest I’ve ever written. Might not be the best piece, but I’m so proud of myself that I did my best. Thank you @dnd-writes for editing and giving me awesome advices. Enjoy!

*Prequel to “Enlightenment”

******

“Doesn’t matter how the two met. It’s about how they’re together ‘til now.”

******

It’s the first day in your new high school. It’s already March but the breeze is yet to blow winter away, strongly acclaiming its presence with the icy wind you face as soon as you come out of the main building of your school to go to the cafeteria. You haven’t made any friends to have lunch with yet, so you change your mind to just head to the smoking spot–behind the auditorium which is already an alien building itself–and kill some time smoking. You turn your way to the smoking spot inside the huge tide of students heading to the cafeteria. Freezing air makes you pace up to the spot.

After passing a few corners where even the wind has been disturbed to travel through, you find a drum can with fire in it making a peaceful crackling sound.

And a girl standing right by it as if wanting to get burnt. “Are you the new one?” Her voice is sharp enough to make it sound wary, yet quite chirpy to end up hitting you as rather coquettish.

“I don’t… I don't really know you,” Your steps towards her contradict your words. “Me neither.” At the fire you light your own cigarette. Your eyes scan her body from the ground to meet hers doing the same to you. The yellow name tag catches your eyes. Her name is Yu Jimin, third grade. And where the name tag is what makes your attention gather up too–perfect size, matches her wavy figure and sassy face, calmly heaves when she’s inhaling in the smoke.

“My name’s not that hard to read,” That’s when you realize that Yu Jimin, this unusual girl, will be an attraction with challenges. It’s all in her grin, in her turbid eyes that never leave yours–to be honest, it’s yours that never leaves hers; they won’t let the leash on your eyes loosen, until she wants to.

You suck it in, and breathe out a mouthful of smoke in the cold air. You look at her again and she's been watching you thoroughly, from head to toe, examining your body, shape, façade and all things she finds nice to look at, regardless of you mirroring her like once isn’t really enough.

She’s got such a nice, sculpted body, hidden under the school uniform but even more premo like that; concave and convex, it just hugs her curves impeccably. Narrow waist and wide, tight hips causing the skirt to struggle not to be torn apart. What’s more is her face, at the height of your chest, looking almost unrealistic, inhumanly beautiful, especially with a shallow grin like right now.

You are automatically making steps toward Jimin and she’s not backing up. You turn your head right to let out the smoke and then return to the ongoing gaze between you two.

“Don’t I look cold?” Jimin steps backwards, from the fire and from you. It makes you just automatically look at her legs, so slick and teem with femininity. You keep following what she tells you to do, what the hormones tell you to do.

“What do you want me to say?” It should be delivered as a counterattack to the dominance Jimin has shown you, but it, unfortunately, ends up sounding as if you were really confused. And Jimin almost bursts into laughter which she manages to hold in.

“So, third grade? What class are you in?”

“Two. You?” You drop the used cigarette and step on it to put it out. “Four. I’ll drop by sometime, handsome.”

Then she leaves the spot just like that. You are so interested in the girl Yoo Jimin. Given that she’s pretty like that, smokes around, she’s nothing like the normal students, obviously. And you can tell Jimin also found you special. Yeah, you know people don’t get to see a man like you quite often. You also know you don’t get to see a girl so appetizing like her often. It’s third year in highschool. You’re no amateur to let a girl play you around, rather, you’ve learned to control those feisty, hungry girls, but ugh, to be honest you don’t know what’s going on.

******

She never comes to see you until the end of school. Nor do you, because you thought you could wait–precisely, you thought you had to wait. You definitely want to take the upper hand in this new relationship so you just head home, yet with a bit of disappointment. But you don’t let anyone know. Maybe she’s just playing you out. That’s unacceptable for you. You calmly wait for the bus deep in thought. Maybe find someone else tomorrow. I don’t know.

“Hey, going somewhere?”

Fuck. It’s her. Jimin.

You think of complaining, but swallow it back and answer. “Home. You?” Jimin shrugs with nonchalance. “I don’t know. Your place, maybe? Do you live alone?” She lunges in suddenly, and you could just let her be as spunky as she can be. “I do. Why do you want to know that?” You throw a question, feigning calmness, and Jimin just smirks back.

“Don’t ask me.”

You’re on the bus. You let Jimin take the window side and sit next to her. You stuff your ears with some random songs and lock your eyes to the screen in your palm to leave the absorbing girl next to you out of your world even for a second.

“What made you move to my school?” Suddenly one of your earphones is between her fingers, your arm in hers to squish her breast slightly which feels so intentional. This bold little chick keeps surprising you in unforeseeable ways. Besides, you can read that she’s definitely testing you. Seems a little bit like an upside-down situation, for you to be the object, and oh, don’t you say you don’t find this rather fun.

“Well, there was an accident. You don’t need to know any further.” Her questions don’t seem to end, however. An eye roll might silence her—

“You can tell me. It’s alri-“

“You’d better shut the fuck up, Jimin.” Your fingers hold her chin up, facing you, merely a breath away as your noses tickle each other. And what gets you a moment later is her eyes, round and glowy, that could easily see through your brain, trying to suffocate you in the vivid yet gooey gaze. And there she plants her words straight into your brain; I’m a little impressed, but try harder.

A sudden squeak of the brake informs you to get off. You step out of the bus and Jimin quietly follows. Then you start walking at a rather slow pace. The sound of another pair of footsteps is the only clue of her existence for you.

“You made me wait.” You break the silence as you near your house. You don’t bother turning back to be an audience for her commanding attitude, but her cockiness nonetheless makes it to your ears.

“Well, I might have just forgotten. My bad.” You unlock the door, let Jimin in and close it. Right after the thud you pin her arms over her head with one hand, eliciting a sharp yelp from her.

“You made me fucking wait, Jimin. You’ll have to pay for it.” Your face is just a few inches from hers again. Your straining voice is mixed with her breath, hot, and your burning gaze never leaves hers, to return the blow that she had on your mind; you don’t know me yet.

“You should feel lucky.”

“Why?”

“I’m interested in you.” Jimin’s words, however, don’t sound tense or weak despite your visible dominance. Rather, it’s an impudent confidence that defies the dynamic knotted between your eyes. Jimin herself visualizes it with an even wider smile, dense with deliberate harm to your ego.

“Mmm…!” You dive into Jimin’s lips while your other hand suddenly wraps around her neck hard. Keeping the chokehold still, your hand once holding her wrists tears her school shirt open, letting the buttons randomly fly to the floor. With her hands free, they dangle on your arms. Her demure hand tries to push you back from her neck, but her tongue is flapping inside your mouth, already allured by the intenseness. Your other hand hesitates about before swiftly undoing her bra and Jimin drops it on the floor. You squeeze the godly pair of flesh and soon pull back from the kiss.

“Shit, you like it rough, huh?” Jimin giggles, with a killing lip bite, and discards her buttonless shirt. There you feel something kick your heart, to see a girl enjoying your selfishness and harshness for the first time. A thought that this girl might be the one for you passes through your mind like a hit-and-run truck.

You turn yourselves around and make Jimin walk backwards to your bedroom with your guide. Jimin doesn't wait to unbutton your shirt on your way, and the corners of her lips soon get pulled down by the lust exponentially charging up. You try to look calm but you’re no different–can’t help it in front of this amazing figure of Jimin, skin-to-skin just for you.

Entering the bedroom you push Jimin onto the bed. Her under lip experiences another intense bite as you lay her down and climb over her body, face to face just like a few minutes ago. With one hand supporting your weight, you take the other to her irresistible breasts and fondle them. Jimin hooks her arms and magnetizes your lips to hers for a delirious lip lock once again. Your hand slides down her torso to the button of her uniform skirt and undoes it then takes it off of her fatal legs and throws it to the floor.

“Next time you won’t wear these, okay?” It’s a demand but also a command, with your fingers on the wet spot on her panties. Her hands find themselves wandering on your toned chest, much in admiration. She nods quickly and unbuckles your pants.

“Needy,” Her hastiness makes you grin, and your words only make Jimin’s excitement grow.

“Yes. I am.” This is what makes you wanna accept the challenge; she’s talking things like that all too fresh, like you have to feel thankful for it. You take your pants off with your underwear to be fully naked. You help Jimin get rid of the annoying cloth being dampened by her pussy off her legs and throw it to the pile of clothes on the floor. With the anticipation for the next step Jimin’s breath paces up, running thin like her patience.

“You’re fucking big…” Jimin marvels at the way your cock tickles her belly button and her tummy. You slap her bare stomach a few times with your cock, spit on it and spread the slickness across with slow strokes.

“I said you’ll have to pay for it, Jimin,” You rub your cock on her wetness, gaining more lubrication, and slap your cock on her folds to see her reaction.

“Ah, please make me…Make me-OH FUCK…!” You push into the hilt with a swift thrust. The tightness draws a groan straight from your throat, and your right hand rises to her neck and chokes her hard again.

“You tell me who’s lucky. You think it’s still me?” Straight to the point that has been bothering you ever since it was spoken. You love to make things clear—dirty—who’s the one to stand and who’s the one to kneel. And if she ever intended to get under your skin, well, she pushed the wrong button.

Jimin’s eyes slam shut, unlike her agape mouth through which you can see her tongue has lost its way, dragged here and there by the hand of her senses, overthrown by what you’re doing. You keep thrusting in and out at such a pace, every time making sure your balls hit her ass, filling her tight hole up ecstatically with no vacancy.

“Hah, god…! It’s me, I’m the lucky one! I’m so fucking lucky to have your big cock inside me!”

“Good. See, your act doesn’t last a day.”

Her lips tremble, as if about to cry, as if all the fucking around was just a pretense and she actually has to be under you. She bites the lower one but can’t hold the shiver down.

You move your hand from Jimin’s neck to her face, grabbing her cheeks in one grip. You bring her face close to yours, both shaking to the orgasmic rhythm but never losing eye contact. Then you slap her cheeks, out of nowhere, just enough for the sound to be pleasurable but not too painful. Jimin starts to drool when you do that several times more, with loud, long moans gradually turning into screams.

“Oh, fuck, yes…! FUCK YES…!” Done with the hitting, you push in your fingers to Jimin’s unsilent mouth to get a better hold of her body. A teardrop leaves her glossy eyes and rolls down to where her ear is. A perfect mixture of pain and pleasure, both of which makes you two forget about tomorrow.

“I’m cumming, Jesus! I-I… Fucking cummi-“ Jimin’s back viciously arches so upward that you almost slip out. Her arms don’t seem to settle for a while before they dig into your back to work as anchors, her body vulnerable in the midst of a destructive swirl of pleasure. But that’s none of your concern as you make the haze in her head threaten her consciousness.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” You wait for Jimin to come down but that’s so silly of you to do so; your ravageous ramming cock never lets her. All of a sudden you pull out, causing Jimin to shake immensely, and flip her on all fours. Her sex is glistening and the other hole is too, both of them slick with her juices and constricting irregularly.

When Jimin feels your cock rub on her pussy she collapses onto the mattress, only her ass up and her face down, exhausted on the bed, faced to the right. But whenever your cock teases her other hole Jimin shudders, toes curl and her fists try to tear your sheets at the sensation of her asshole getting stimulated.

“Agh, fuck…” You don’t warn Jimin when you insert the head of your cock inside her tight ass. This time even you can’t handle the pleasure of its tremendous tightness as you shut your eyes and groan loudly.

“Holy fuck, Jimin, this is so tight,” You tell her when you’re halfway in. Her body stays still, but her hands ball up and her toes curl until they all become pale. Every inch deeper inside her ass is the moment for you to admire the transcendental tightness you’ve never experienced from those other girls you have been through. Maybe you’re lucky too, to have found this perfect body with nothing to lament on.

“Oh, please, that’s deep! Fuck my ass deep just like-oh my fucking god!” Your reaction is quick—it’s more of a reflection though—doing more than what Jimin asked even before she finishes her words, beginning the mindless assfuck with such a carefree pace. You bring her powerless head up with your hand wrapped around her neck, tight, choking her again. The tighter you grip, the tighter her ass gets. You catch a glimpse of the crooked corner of her lips, which only fuels your inner engines to work even harder.

It’s just your thing; when you see a smile, you have to break it. You destroy it, and you sincerely cherish it when it’s gone.

As you reach your maximum speed Jimin’s distorted smile subsides and an even more euphoric look spreads. Mouth open wide, drooling down her chin and onto your hand on her throat, eyes open but white. As if she muted herself, Jimin doesn’t even breathe—not only because of your grip, but also the orgasm building up as fast as how you ram her ass. You grin at the sight of Jimin drowning in the sensations her own nerves convey; you create. It kills you how small her body is, when you can witness a simple—yet ruthless—piston to her crotch can dye her whole skin red, travel electrically to everywhere in no time, shrinking every minimal muscle. You release her, she falls down limp on the bed and screams at the anal orgasm hitting her, threatening her consciousness.

“Ahh! Fuck, fuck…!” You’re nowhere far from your own end, either. Your breath shallows down at the crazy tightness of Jimin’s orgasming ass.

“Jimin, I’m cumming…!” You do. You reach as deep inside her anal cavern as you can and unload your cum, mind blowing pleasure coursing through every corner of your body. You shoot, and shoot, and shoot. Jimin clenches her hole for your cum to be deposited inside her with a lazy hum, in harmony with your groan seeping out of your gritted teeth.

It takes a few minutes for your breaths to find the normal speed. “No one’s fucked my ass this amazing,”

It surely was enough to bring amazement, undoubtedly the best you’ve had so far. You sit up and rearrange her hair for her.

“Did I pay for it?“ Jimin’s already got that bright smile back, and after such an extreme sex your barriers collapse in front of her, as you smile back at her.

“Very much.”

“Can you get my phone? It’s in my skirt.” You head to the pile of discarded clothes and do it for Jimin, who’s sitting on the bed with her head resting on the headboard. You toss it on the bed.

Jimin looks into her phone right away, scrolls down mindlessly and looks at you, who’s naked and standing next to the bed.

“Take a shower first, baby.”

Baby, she said.

Your eyes dart to hers immediately. Your face stays placid but you know Jimin knows you’re not at all used to it. You never really allow any strings attached with the ones you fuck; it’s a rather body-to-body entanglement than something emotional. But you’re surprised at how that word fits comfortably between you two. There’s something different. You look back at Jimin but her attention is taken by her phone already, again like a hit-and-run truck, but not completely as you can see her smirk the way you love. So you just enter the bathroom.

In the shower you review the past 30 minutes—you had sex with the girl Yoo Jimin: nothing special. But not just that; Jimin has by far the best body of all the other girls you’ve experienced. You can tell you really enjoyed it today. You can tell she’s worthy of continuing the relationship. You like the way Jimin turns from a bubbly, sassy girl in school to a begging, screaming mess in bed under you. And the way she calls you baby—it dulls all your edges like a cup of boiling water would do to an ice cube. Just like the hot water pouring on your head.

You come out of the shower and see Jimin smoking on your bed, sitting on the edge with her legs crossed, elbow on her thigh, still aesthetically naked. She looks gorgeous like that. You walk to her, take the cigarette from her hand to your mouth. Then push her down on the bed, breathe the smoke in deep and throw the shortened cigarette away to the bin next to bed, breathe out, and share a smoky kiss.

A few moments later your rod pokes at her belly and Jimin parts away with a giggle.

“Fuck, I really have to clean my body.” You bring her off the bed with you. “Shut up and get down here,” With a smirk she does, and as soon as she adjusts her legs and position you shove your cock in her mouth. A gag earned.

But after that Jimin takes your big cock pretty well, without gagging or looking uncomfortable, even when her nose crashes on your crotch; you’ve found yourself a perfect girl, indeed.

“Nice.” Her teary eyes never leave yours throughout the session as you pace up for a brief finish. Adjusting to the speed of your cock moving entirely in and out, Jimin’s hands go up to the back of your thighs for firmer grip.

Jimin’s drool tickles down your balls and forms a small puddle on the floor. With the filthiest slurping sound Jimin bobs her head at the beat of your cock sliding through. Whenever her delicate tongue presses onto the underside of your cock you throb inside her mouth, making her head slightly move simultaneously.

Jimin’s tears meet the drool on her chin, and with a sound of her voice from her throat Jimin taps your thighs for you to pull out. You take your cock out of her mouth and slap it on her fucked face a few times, painting her face with her own saliva, to her liking.

“Finish it.”

Put the shower aside, and you shower Jimin with your lust deep into her throat. You feel your legs not far from giving in, but thankfully your cock is just the same, due to what Jimin is doing under you.

“Jimin, I’m-I’m close.”

Jimin starts to fondle your balls and that certainly helps you cross the line. In no time you fill her throat up white, and the room with your satisfied groan.

You look straight into Jimin’s eyes when you cum, and it’s astonishingly reciprocated when she gulps down your load quickly, professionally. As soon as you are done pouring into Jimin she stands up, showing you her clean tongue with a tilt of her head, and heads to the bathroom. You, left alone, giggle quietly and sprawl on the bed after putting on underwear.

******

“Text me at lunch break. You know where to meet me.” You just nod at Jimin, who’s in one of your T-shirts that is just a little bit big for her; loss of all the buttons on her uniform comes at a cost. An inner beam blooms under your face when you find her just too perfect in that outfit of school skirt with your T-shirt tucked under it. Those unhidden bra lines count as one of many reasons for you to stare at her, take her in your arms right now and-

“Not now, perv.” Her smirk lets yours surface up to reciprocate hers. You stand up from the bed, approach her and walk her backwards to the wall. Jimin has been playful and relaxed with you and you like it. But when you—just like right now—detect submission in her eyes: you love it. You don’t stop your hand from rising up for her neck and have a good grip around it. You don’t stop the other from being pulled away to her gracious tits and squeezing them.

“Not now?” And there are those big eyes begging for you to go further, that bitten lower lip asking for any contact, as if the one who just quipped ‘not now’ choked out. Always hits you differently when she just switches from a brat to a subby mess out of control.

Contradiction is the most normal of things when you have a tight grip over Jimin. Her reddening face gradually forms a thin smirk when your lips close in to hers. Her eyes close, lips part for a mind-numbing kiss—

“Not now.” You make a sudden pull back and release Jimin from your grip. She stumbles and almost collapses on the floor so you hold her in your arms. For the same purpose and then some, her arms rest on your shoulders and pull you in, only to be denied by your hand pushing her chest off of you, leaving Jimin just keeping a hungry gaze at your lips and whimpering “Please.”

You finish tying the necktie, bring your thumb up to her lips. As it sweeps over them Jimin lets her tongue coat your thumb with her saliva which could’ve blended perfectly with yours.

“To the spot at lunch break, Jimin. And ah,” You stand down and pull her panties down in one sway and she helps herself out of them by lifting her legs respectively. You toss it on the bed and rise up again, for your collarbone to match her height, for her to look up at you again.

“You don’t wear the same panties for two days straight, do you?” Jimin just nods quickly and tries to crush her lips on yours yet again. Seems like she wouldn’t care even if you made her go to school all nude, if she could just mix her tongue with yours right now. Her efforts to make you kiss her is visible to you; eyes so seductive yet not able to take themselves off of their foremost target, lips slightly open for her tongue to peek outside. Seeing that you just step back and prepare to leave for school with an unseen smirk.

“Let’s go.”

******

As anticipated, needy and untidy Yoo Jimin sends you a dozen pictures of her bare crotch under her skirt, saying ‘Want your fingers inside’, ‘Can’t wait for the lunch break.’ Those are to be left on read.

Morning classes fly by as the bell rings to announce the lunch break. The class rushes out for lunch, has a race among them with some of them even running like they have something to win. And amongst that crowd you head to the spot, to Yoo Jimin.

She’s there already waiting for you when you turn the last corner. Legs crossed, back on the brick wall and a half-spent cigarette between her lips, looking so delinquent there with that insanely short skirt and in the shirt you gave. She notices you, has a reet smile on her and throws the cigarette on the ground, and watches you approach her standing still. No immaterial words or acts are needed when you can just kiss those lips like they’re yours. The remnant of the cigarette a fume that makes you dive deeper into this trance her tongue and yours are building, you spontaneously get rid of her skirt and are met with the wet skin under it.

Your fingers taste her crotch, slowly rubbing around and poised for any further indulgence. Her hands are, on the other hand, hectic with your buttons and when they’re done they swiftly go down to your belt. Your pants drop to your ankles in no time with your underwear, and with your erect cock emancipated, Jimin detaches from the kiss and spits on your cock and spreads it.

It all happens so fast that you are still enraptured by the kiss and her tits in your palms, leaving so many treats unfelt to your body. The next second you are inside her, making it even headier for you to follow up.

“Fuck, I needed this.” Jimin grits. With no clue of downshifting she takes the shirt off, her bra to follow suit, and hooks her arms around your neck to stand the frantic sex she wants from you. And that happens right away, as your instinct drops the hammer for you to automatically thrust into her even before you find yourself moaning at the sensation of her inside.

You keep your eyes closed while wrecking her pussy despite the eye candy that is Yoo Jimin during sex, and suddenly you notice her teeth on your shoulder. It’s a pain that can make you grin, that can make you savor the feeling, even it gets even stronger, because now you know that when she bites, she cums. Her legs give in, and you know it by the weight of her arms around your neck. Her walls clench harshly and there’s a stream of her juice down your legs when she cums. Yoo Jimin is so tactile, and when she cums her whole body does, for yours to recognize, you don’t even have to hearken to know it. The auditory input hits your brain the last, the pearly, shaky yelp of the orgasming needy girl adds up to all the stimuli you are taking.

When she comes down you slow down, lazily reaching her cervix as she hums at it every time.

“Kiss me, baby.” You do. It’s saccharine to your tongue. Her tongue distraughtly moves around inside your mouth, some of the drool leaking onto her tits to make it even more impeccable. The gustation mesmerizes you into a rabid sex, this time for yourself to get off. No subduing, only upshifts lead the way as you turn her around, put it back in and lavish thrusts into her sex.

“Shit. Jimin, you’re so fucking perfect.” You’re not saying this again because she might not have heard it; you are repeating it like a low-functioning machine because you’re afraid you haven’t said it enough. And she can condone it—of course she can, it’s a compliment anyway—because she knows it already, because the feeling’s mutual. You say it several more times on the back of her neck, almost making it a tattoo, carving it in intaglio. Still deranged, Jimin is just screaming with her back arching to the sky and carotically facing the brick wall with her left cheek. The right side of her face is rosed up, and her eye has a glimpse of you, your wry face and the sweat-coated torso and shuts and she cums just like that.

Her breaths are shallow, irregular, a gusty fluid squelches out of her pussy and the scene of her orgasm is intimidating your endurance, easily sending you to an orgasmic stupor and making you spurt out inside her with a gritted groan.

“Jimin, I… God, fuck…!” To your overstimulated cock Jimin has her shrewd tongue on it, sealed with her lips. Makes your legs wobble, unmercifully agitating your mind with frenzy, but just until she clears your shaft up clean from the tabloid juices all over it.

“I loved it. Maybe we should make it daily.” Jimin rises up, with her skirt and your shirt in her hands and still breathing somewhat heavily. And the desecrated smile on her face is the coercion for you to wear one too, a copacetic one. Shirt on, a smoking cigarette between your fingers, you insinuate to her.

“Your panties are still on my bed, you know.” And she’s shrewd with it—has been from the very beginning—and purrs. “Mhmm, I’m going to go fetch it after school with you.”

Of course, is what your nods that follows says, and there’s my girl, says your zest-filled grin, looking at her back that walks out of the corner. It’s always that intrinsic sass you could simply, so simply kill for. Maybe a challenge for you, maybe a finesse for you to be benumbly trapped into. It’s your choice, and from some point on the latter looks dazzling to you; maybe you’re a person who just dyes so well, to a derogated girl who seemed to have taken everything you’ve given but turns out she just put you in the phantasma of her own stardust without you realizing it—you’ve lost it in her, somehow. And that’s bizarre: and you love it.

******

You’re standing at the bus stop, hands in your pocket and looking around to find your girl. When you do, you’re so surprised at how Jimin so stands out among all the crowd while doing nothing but just walk. Even from miles out you’re sure you’ll spot her in a second. The belle of the crowd, wherever she is. She’s not the tallest but still piques herself on her to-die-for aura like she blurs everyone out. As if she sensed the scrutiny, Jimin looks up from her phone, looks around and soon finds you looking at her. You hate to be seen so infatuated like this but you can’t help it, as your eyes meet hers and your face brightens up, half from seeing her and half at yourself caught like that.

“That happy to see me?” You don’t answer, just bring your hands to her crotch and check there’s no underwear blocking your way. A flick over her uncovered pussy earns you a shocked look.

“This is not your bedroom!” Jimin shouts in whisper, but not with caution, but an intrigued grin with eyes darting around the crowd waiting for the bus.

“Are you telling me to stop?” You take your fingers to her mouth, her tongue welcoming the taste of horniness coated all over your fingers. “I’m telling you not to stop.”

So your hand returns to her pussy. You’re rubbing, tapping on and hooking your fingers in, Jimin bites on her own fingers not to relinquish her scream. You hold her trembling body as steady as possible but you know that it’ll be absolutely normal if the people around you realize that you two are having a little fun explicitly in public. Everyone’s looking at you and Jimin in front of you, facing the same way as you and receiving that dirty fingering amongst so many audiences.

In a few minutes the bus is here, to show you only one vacant seat left. You take the seat and Jimin sits on your lap, facing backwards and hugging your neck. You resume the unholy yet entertaining fingering to the pretty moaning girl on your lap.

And you return to who you really are: you’re a gentleman yourself, with etiquette, with common decency, to pull Jimin’s head down on your shoulder to muffle her nasty sound on it. You know even the driver is looking at you through the mirror, but that’s because of her, not you; again, you’re making no noise, and Jimin in your embrace is the culprit of all the squeaky, watery, moaning noise, not you.

“Quiet, Jimin.” Now her teeth dig into your skin, synchronizing with your fingers indulging into her wet, tight hole. You know what you’re doing won’t shut her up. You’re just saying it, a formality. Inside your mind you want her to moan loudly, at the same time want to see her struggle keeping it quiet. So you yank her hair back to watch her distorted face, observe every tiny wriggle of her expression.

“Ah…!” Look into her eyes as if wanting to pierce through them. Jimin looks at you too, flooding with lust, drowning in her own sensations of sex and embarrassment of being exposed in such a public situation. “I’m almost there.” It’s a plain text but she’s begging there. She says she’s almost there but she’s already there, as it seems.

“Yeah, we’re almost there.” A bump on the road makes your fingers hit her spot, makes her back arc, makes her almost, almost lose it right there. You pull out your fingers from her hot cavern to the relatively cool air of the bus. Her liquid feels fresh out in the air but that feeling is soon lost, by her tongue wrapping them up and sucking it clean—suckling it dirty.

The bus stops right then for only you and Jimin to get off. It’s much quieter than inside the bus, partially due to you not fingerfucking her anymore. In no time you’re at the door of your house, unlock it, swing open and it slams shut. Simultaneously Jimin hops on you and dive into your mouth with hers. You stumble through to your bedroom, toss her on the bed, swiftly undo your belt and pants with your boxers, let your already hard dick spring out but don't let it feel the air as it vanishes into Jimin’s waiting pussy right away.

No one speaks a word. No one can, to be fair. You two are merely inches away from dying, too impatient to wait another second. And there you let Jimin approach death a bit closer by holding her neck around, a perfect necklace for her, and straining your hand. Jimin’s mouth is open, difficulty in breathing so visible, face reddening but there’s still her hunger in it; she grins. Her smile is so cruel, violent, so evil yet joyful, as if she’s the victimizer and you’re the victim.

“Please, baby… Kill me. Fucking choke me to death, please, choke me and kill me-fuck!” You make her scream when you slap her tits, as if you were angry at her, but you’re the opposite—you love her so much that you just want to abuse her, to her liking, just like right now. All her sensations seem to evaporate as her eyes roll back and her hands drop to her sides spiritlessly: or, airlessly. You let her go, not wanting to actually kill her.

With a giant inhale Jimin returns from the border of unconsciousness. Her hands travel from her own tits, your hands, and soon back to the sheets, still wandering in need for anything to release the tension. So you pin down her wrists and pace up your thrusts.

“Fuck, Jimin. Don’t tempt me. You make me really want to fuck you dead.” You’re saying it right on her face, which enables her to feel that you mean it. There she tries to kiss your lips, but you pull back with agility, instead covering her mouth and nose with your palm, again suffocating her to your liking, to your loving, to your abnormal, psychopathic obsession.

“I want to see you struggle for life. I want to see you beg for life. You’ll look so perfect like that.” Jimin screams into your hand, covers it with her saliva and tears. You close in with your other hand groping her tit and your cock hitting everywhere inside her squeezing cunt. Jimin’s eyes widen as her orgasm fades in, muffling “I’m cumming!” Several times on your palm before peaking like never before. Her orgasm never gives her the time to even shut her eyes as they roll into her head. Her scream penetrates your hand over her mouth as it departs on your ears so deliciously.

That’s what psychopaths do, isn’t it? To experience the catharsis washing over your spine and get off with how a person screams, all helpless, with tears, shallow breaths as if soon going to die, or at least pass out. Maybe it’s that she’s making it clear about who you are. Would be a pleasure to embrace it.

And it’s your turn now. You pull out, escaping Jimin’s spent pussy with quite an amount of her squirt, leaving her all trembling and arching. There’s a layer of sweat all over her body and it makes it look like a scene from any pornography. Jimin doesn’t move a bit-only her chest is heavily healing up and down, even after you flip her upside down.

You tease her asshole with your middle finger and when she senses it enter she helps you by spreading her cheeks for deeper insertion. No resistance in and out of her ass. Every curl inside her ass makes Jimin squeeze her own cheeks as a response with a powerless moan. “Mmm, fuck me please… I’m not done yet.” Of course. You grin and prepare your cock for the second entrance as you pull Jimin up on all fours. Her arms give up when you rub your glistening cock on her pussy lips. And her reason gives up when you penetrate her rear hole.

“Ahh-fuck yes!”

“Holy fuck. This is so tight.” Her tightness erases your patience to savor it slowly. You start ruining her ass with the intention of actually destroying it. Jimin frowns, loud moan seeping through the bitten lip, hands curling into fists but arms all powerless on her sides.

“It’s so good, it’s so fucking good…! Don’t stop it baby. Make me cum like a fucking whore…!” Her voice can’t even get louder when her words just melt on the mattress just like her. Her words turn to nothings, eyes squeeze shut, concentrating all her senses to where she’s getting fucked. You feel your eyelids become heavier every single thrust, but the visual pleasure is just too good to give up watching it-her ass up for you to fuck it senseless, narrow waist contrasting her wide hips so aesthetically. The cherry on top is the expressions on her gorgeous face which you can’t quite read. Just like when all colors mixed makes pitch-black, her facial wrinkles and twitches are the perfect mixture of all pleasure, ecstasy that you can’t tell what she’s feeling at this moment.

“Nngh!” Actually, you can. Jimin is orgasming so hard, clear—dirty—liquid pumping out of her empty pussy to flood the mattress. Her ass squeezes your cock too hard for you to move in and out as fast as before without blasting every drop in her climaxing ass hole.

So you park it deep in her contracting hole, stay there, and shut Jimin’s moaning mouth with yours. She doesn’t care—or she doesn't acknowledge—and keeps screaming for her life even after her peak has washed over. A few dozen seconds pass, she calms down to at least breathe regularly when you stand your torso up to resume the session.

“You… You have to cum…” As if she even cares for you instead of her own pleasure. You know she just wants more overwhelming orgasm only you can deliver, and you are no different. There’s something about this body, these tits, the voice, this face, this pussy, this ass; there really is something about Yoo Jimin. Without your knowledge you are humping her like a villain, mad, but with a grin that’s so dangerous that Jimin mirrors. Your hand already made itself home around her neck, a red mark of it pressing hard inevitable, tears rolling down along her side face.

“I’m going to fill you up, Jimin.” And with a sharp inhale you begin wrecking her inside. A gut-rearranging pounding is what her perfect ass deserves and she can’t even open her eyes properly-either one stays closed against her will, rolling up to see that there’s nothing inside her head.

“Fuck! Please, please, please, please… Gah, I’m- Again…!” How impatient. There’s not even a point for you to call a flaw. Immoral, impatient, vulgar, dirty… She’s all too perfect. And you’re sure that’s why you cum so hard, like never before.

A nasty pair of voices fill each other’s brain as you two cum. You lower your body, forehead on hers and eyes on hers, looking through those teary orbs as you feel yourself bursting out gregariously. No words but loud pants bridge your sensations to each other, and until the last spurt you don’t even blink in order to see Jimin go through her own orgasm.

That’s it; it’s been your undesirable sadistic desire that kept you on fire, and when you have saturated it it flips out of your head, making it empty—there hasn’t been anything other than that. When you’re done completely you let Jimin go from your glare, sit on the edge next to her gasping body. Your urge is swept off so cleanly, and you can see how dirty it was by the mess on your bed.

“Are you alright?” You ask, but looking up at the ceiling, not Jimin. You don’t turn your head but can already sense her looking at you. “You’re just so perfect.” Selfishly she doesn’t answer. And you hear the smirk in her words. You make one on your face too, hearing that, stand up, face her and find Jimin overloading your vision with how she gorgeously lies down there, making even all the nasty things complement her perfection.

“I’ll shower. Just don’t fall asleep on the bed. It’s dirty.” You tell Jimin, all helpless and powerless on the bed and panting like she just had the best sex in her life. The lustful girl who was begging for you to kill her is nowhere to be found; instead there’s a weak, short of breath, vulnerable and lithe angelic devil with your cum gushing out of her ass. As if a few more touches and she’d actually evaporate.

In the shower you barely feel the water on your body, so distracted by your own thoughts—your own thoughts but in the grabs of Yu Jimin. The exact same as yesterday, you are showering yourself with your shocked, strange feelings in the shower after sex that simply blew your mind.

It's just that she's too good. Too good to call it a hook-up, too good to make it only an occasional sex. The way she craves your cock, the way she begs for your violence, the way she’s so desperate for extreme orgasms under your hold. It’s the first time for you to smile just by thinking of a girl, especially when you’re such a harsh and rough type of a person even you’d admit. She’d let you hit her. She’d let you choke her, let you fuck her, destroy her—let you love her.

Then the door opens, a small, pale figure of female comes in, walks slowly through the mist of the hot water. Jimin stops in front of you, legs barely holding there, face buried on your chest and her arms locked around your neck to support her lithe body but they barely do. You move a little backward to let her more of the hot water.

As if all the water got into your veins, you feel your heart burn. Just look at her—legs all wobbly, barely standing, too exhausted to even look up at you, her hands at the back of your neck irregularly stroking the back of your head as if signaling she’s at least perceiving things properly. You put a hand on her back and spread the water on it, and that’s when she lifts her head and meets your eyes.

Weak and lethargic like a candlelight in front of a tsunami, Jimin is barely standing there with low moans whenever her legs wobble and give up. Her arms tighten around your neck as one of yours hug her back so that she doesn’t collapse. Her face is right beneath yours, tilted up to face yours. Those eyes can’t avoid looking at your lips, which is just what you’re doing to her unashamedly.

Your hand climbs up to the back of her head. Regardless of that you and Jimin are exchanging such a strong yet soft, intense yet loving eyelock. It is an atypically genial moment and if you look back at this moment you might throttle yourself. She should know it by now, from the visible, audible changes on you.

(Maybe you were afraid. Or beyond that. Love was what your fears were afraid of. Doesn’t quite make sense to say that you have fears, but anyways, you didn’t want, nor expect a couple nights to escalate to an actual romance.)

Minutes pass, and pass, and—and pause, when you pull her a bit into your arms and make a soundless, yet seismic kiss. Lips lock. Two pairs of lips open and a pair of tongues make contact, hug each other just like you two. Her hands snake into your hair, your head in her hands and deeper into the kiss. You two have even forgotten to breathe as the liplock continues for what feels like a lifetime, to complete the kiss of your life. When you try to pull back Jimin lunges a bit forward not to break the kiss, and you let your system suffocate a few dozen seconds more.

“You’re so beautiful, Yu Jimin.” You finally tell her this. Not the literal confession of love but she gets it with the bewitching smile she always wears like nothing. Never been in love, you feel like you’re sent back to childhood, pure and intact, but that feeling is shattered into pieces when her hand finds your hardened cock poking at her belly.“Is that why you’re so hard, baby?” This time, the word ‘baby’ sounds so right with a lip bite of your lover and with a lust-filled grin on you. Her thumb slides on the underside of the tip, almost making you stumble back.

“Yes. Just like you’re always horny because of me.” With a smirk you turn her around, bend her over so that her hands are on the wall, and put your cock in in one stroke. Jimin helplessly loses all the strength in her legs and falls but you're prudential enough not to let her. It's to the point where she's just hanging from your arms when you kindle the movement. Her skin looks even more satin with the water so you collar her and go on. You can't stop when the biggest impetus is jonesing for it. No choice but to harden the grip on her throat.

Jimin is flaccid on the wall, fingers fumbling on and desperately digging themselves on it with her head facing down. You are never going to unbind her until she falls into a stupor. “Baby I… I fucking love it so deep…! Use me just like that…” She can't let it out loud and soon loses all voice, raises her head, brings yours right beside hers and kisses you. And a feeling that this is the requital for your disclosure makes it compulsory to reciprocate it poignantly. Her hand guides one of yours to her tits, pushes it hard on it to make you squeeze them and soon the convulsions agitate through her body. Her orgasmic screams reverberate through your throat, which is also moaning out of the pleasure congesting your mind.

When the kiss breaks her yelps stifle the smacking and squelching. You have no idea if it’s your heartiness or just overstimulation from before the shower, but her voice sounds so giddy she might just hit the floor all limp. The burgeoning pleasure conglomerates into a derogated vertigo, the unbearable sensations stack up in your spines and Jimin’s wringing walls really doesn’t help you push it down. Her eyes tell you—because her mouth can’t right now—she’s only a couple thrusts away from coming undone, tantamount to what’s threatening to blow your mind, break down your nerves.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m fucking coming…!” A tautology that is so understandable. You help her, add to the pleasure by choking her. Her moans permeate to your hand through her throat and the foul secretion of her orgasm flows down her legs with the water pelting down on your bodies. Jimin fumbles on the wall with her fingers, too herring-gutted to digest the deray.

“Jimin. Yu Jimin. I’m coming too-fuck…!” When Jimin hears her name she hums, and when she feels the warmth coat her walls she buckles, arches her back to beckon your lips and jockeys her tongue between them. In less than a minute however she pulls back, due to lack of air, because of your chokehold, and pants in your face, with a pejorative smile, but no sign of mannerism—you all know, that smile that follows after an exquisite sex—her sheer feelings carved in it, and you willingly mirror it as a beck of mutuality.

******

A rather huge thing is settled. Sitting on the edge of the bed together, with a cigarette between your fingers for each, you recount your history: the reason you moved, your personality, your sex life being like this. All of them, however, converge to her, Yu Jimin, weirdly enough for you who just can’t concede any feelings involved, which sounds like a monolithic psychopath which actually might be who you are.

Well, a little bit of romance couldn’t kill, could it? You think, lying next to Jimin and slowly closing your eyes to fall-

“You haven’t said it yet.”

“Say what?”

“You only said I’m beautiful.”

“And?”

“I know there’s something more. You know there’s something more.”

There you fail to hold out the chuckle.

“I don’t know what you’re-“

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to be shy about it,”

Jimin mischievously giggles. You know you can’t just laugh it off, and you won’t. That intricate feeling that tickles, but is not transient.

With a somnolent voice, you placidly say, like a tagline of a tragedy—or a comedy.

“Love you, Jimin.”

Her grin infiltrates her words hearing it.

“That’s it, my boy. Love you too.”

******

#kpop x male reader #kpop male reader #karina smut #aespa smut

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outofthebluess · 5 months ago

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𝜗𝜚 we can run away to the walls inside your house .ᐟ

currently playing ❛ sailor song ❜ in which: ❛ without much of a family of your own, you take to spending time with percy's family; sally finding a bit of her younger self in you. ❜

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pairing: ❛ percy jackson x fem!reader ❜ warnings: ❛ use of y/n, not super well written, very short, old people being nostalgic ❜

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"how do you already have flour on your face? we haven't even done anything yet." you smile to yourself as you tug on your sleeve, bringing the fabric to percy's cheek.

"when i pulled it down from the shelf it spilled a bit..." he leaned into your touch, his cheeks warm despite the cool weather.

as time passed and sally watched her son annoy the living hell out of you by messing up the recipe, she laughed to herself. paul turned his head to the woman sitting next to him. you and percy's laughs heard in the almost quiet distance. he'd give her a knowing look, prompting the 'what is it?' that left his mouth.

"she just reminds me so much of myself... that poor girl has no idea what shes getting herself into."

"are you making fun of your own son?"

sally tilted her head, her eyes meeting paul's, "no, i'm simply saying that if his father was such a handful imagine what she puts up with."

paul nodded, glancing back and forth between her and the pair throwing flour around the kitchen. "i doubt she minds, i mean look at her."

before you could get the chance to toss another fist of flour at him percy places one hand around your wrist, his eyes narrowing before letting your hand go. you regretfully place the powder back into the bag.

he places a finger through the belt loop of your jeans turning you slightly so you face him. percy wipes all the flour away from your face, trying to avoid the boring eyes of his parents. you tried hard to keep down the smile that tried to slip it's way onto your lips. you failed miserably.

"there she is..." his voice is soft, like every word he spoke was a secret just between the two of you. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead before beginning to actually clean up.

paul looked back to his wife with a smile. "i think she'll be alright."

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. . .

A LETTER FROM LAY! guess who hit 111 followers! i've never done a follower event before but i do want to do one, so give me some time and i'll think of something!

this is super short but i fear it's been sitting unfinished in my drafts forever and i wanted it posted :)

#lay's love letter 𝜗𝜚 #percy jackson x reader #pjo #percy jackson fluff #percy jackson x you #percy jackson blurb #percy jackson imagine #whatever you were baking turned out blue i fear #Spotify

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thinkinonsense · 5 months ago

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COLORS₊˚⊹☆

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: angst!! nsfw content but no smut

a/n: this has been in my drafts for sooo long

masterlist

you knew better than to be alone with logan. it's wasn't his fault that you couldn't control yourself around him but you couldn't resist his salt and pepper look.

"can i get a beer, honey?" his deep rugged voice asks over the bar counter.

"yeah, one second." you meekly reply.

the two of you met through his son, jack. for months, you knew jack had a crush on you but you always had eyes for his father, logan. when you first saw logan visiting his son on the college campus, you thought that maybe it wouldn't hurt to go on a date with the nice boy.

"here you go." you nod, sliding him the glass bottle. his fingers entrap yours around the bottle, stopping all of your movements.

"thanks, pretty girl." he tries to smile at you. your knees feel weak. logan can smell your arousal leaking in your underwear and down your thighs.

"no problem, mr. howlett."

blush coated your face as he releases your hand around the bottle. logan lets you get back to work, watching your every movement.

"ya' know, jack has been asking about you." logan says after a few sips.

the older man saw right through you. he knew why you suddenly became interested in his son. logan was a bad man who formed bad habits; one of those habits was entertaining your fantasies.

almost every night after work, logan came into the bar you worked at. a bar that was forty-five minutes from his cabin home. he loathed the city however, he liked how the lights twinkled in your eyes whenever you joined him for a smoke outside.

"i've been busy." you shrug. not really feeling bad for canceling plans with jack again.

"hm.." logan huffs, watching you pour liquor into a glass for another customer. "noticed you've taken up more night shifts."

"college is expensive."

"jack mentioned that your folks help pay your tuition." he had you right where he wanted you. "you aren't ditchin' him for some other college boy, are ya', honey?"

air trapped in your lungs at his question. you were torn on if you should look up at him or not. besides the beer in his hand, logan was also drinking in your appearance. always in these tight low-cut tops with tiny skirts and cute sneakers.

"too busy for boys." you reply, taking a sip of your diet coke to the right of logan.

it's been two months of dancing around your attraction to each other. logan loved his son but he knew the poor boy didn't have a chance with a girl like you. you needed someone to tame you, protect and provide for you. jack wasn't mature enough to see that.

"what time do you get off?" logan asks, finishing off his glass.

"thirty minutes."

you bite back the smile forming on your lips. he could hear your heart beat increase causing him to chuckle and shake his head.

"you know the routine, doll face." he puts down some cash and leaves you a nice tip. "meet me in the limo in thirty. no panties either."

"yes, mr. howlett."

was it wrong? maybe, but nothing felt better than logan's hands all over you.

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physics-of-one-piece · 3 months ago

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I Take Care of You Now

Doflamingo x Reader

Summary: After a night of a heavy snow storm and rainfall on the North Blue Sea, Doflamingo gets woken up by the scraping of a snow shovel on deck.

A/N: A little short one-shot that I’ll implement into the main Red Suit Doffy Fic Merlot & Primroses but it can stand as a stand alone, too, so I decided to send it here. As I said in a post, Doflamingo’s core values he was raised with are something he sticks to. Also... I'm going to hell. I'm going to hell I'm going to hell I'm going to heeeeeeell...

but at least the Heavenly Demon is there 😊🤭🫡

P.S. I wanted to post this at 8pm it's 4pm, the Save Draft went into Post but it's complete so.... Enjoy? 🤣🤣 (I hate you, tumblr) (cry laughs)

Word Count: 3k

Tags: Pre-Relationship, Female!Reader, Rosinante's Wife!Reader, Doflamingo POV, North Blue Era Doflamingo, Red Suit Doflamingo, Fluff, Humor, Cuddling For Warmth, Mentions of Fratricide, Nightmares, Longing, Doflamingo is in Love, Protective Doflamingo, Post Minion Island, Girldad Doflamingo, Dadmingo, Soft Doflamingo (kind of), Donquixote Family, One Shot Fic

Doflamingo is back in the snow again. The white thick layer of it crunches under his boots as he walks. There is snow falling, wild and strong, chilly wind pushing at his face.

There is someone lying on the snow. He knows who it is. The blackened feathers give him away; Doflamingo’s clumsy little brother.

At last, Doflamingo reached him. Rosinante’s lipstick-painted mouth is moving. No sound is coming out of Rosinante’s lips. Doflamingo squats down beside his brother. Maybe if he’s closer, he’ll hear the words his younger brother is saying.

Rosinante’s mouth keeps moving, shaping the words over and over again. He keeps looking at Doflamingo, but no sound is coming out.

What is he saying?

I love you?

I hate you?

I’m sorry?

Don’t touch my wife?

I’ll kill you?

Which is it?

Doflamingo should’ve learned to read lips.

Doflamingo wakes with a gasp, sitting up in his sleeping bag. His face is wet, covered in sweat, and he barely registers a yelp from Baby 5 who’d slept atop his stomach and hugged him for additional warmth during the storm falling off him and on his lap covered by the sleeping bag’s duvet.

Doflamingo realizes he’s without his sunglasses because the world isn’t tinted red. The sudden assault of colors and sunlight illuminating through the portholes makes him blink. Continuing to pant, he reaches for the white-framed sunglasses and mounts them atop the bridge of his nose.

He pants for a little longer, then swallows down. His throat feels dry. He needs to get some wine.

“Young Master?” Baby 5’s careful, hesitating voice reaches his ear. “Are you okay?”

Doflamingo puts on a smile, if not for his sake, then for Baby 5’s. He hates seeing her distraught or hurt. A child should never worry about an adult. It's the greatest disgrace.

“Just a bad dream.” he replied, huffing. “Could you get me a merlot from the wine cabinet?”

“We aren’t allowed to open the wine cabinet.” Baby 5 said, frowning.

“I’m giving you permission,” said Doflamingo. He needs wine, right now. “So go get the merlot for me.”

“Y/N-san said you shouldn’t drink that much...” Baby 5 murmured, continuing to look at him worriedly.

“Who’s the captain here, me or my sister-in-law?” he asked, chuckling. It’s rich of you to scold him on his alcohol abuse when your own husband had been a nicotine-inhaling addict. Rosinante went through one entire pack of cigarettes in a day. How on earth you wanted to kiss his brother or even marry him, Doflamingo would never know.

“You are, Young Master!”

“I don’t know…” mused Doflamingo, making a show of doubt. “Maybe I should let my sister-in-law lead…”

“She doesn’t know how to sail! Or how to be a pirate!” said Baby 5 panically.

“Is that so? I guess I’m staying as captain, then…” He gave a dramatic sigh, fighting not to burst out laughing on the spot. “Too bad, I was looking forward to retirement…”

“You’re not even old!” Baby 5 yelled.

Doflamingo laughed.

“Young Master?”

“What is it?” asked Doflamingo.

“Do you think (Y/N)-san hates living with us?” asked Baby 5.

Doflamingo blinked. Now, he knew you would rather throw yourself in the sea than say anything negative to the kids or be hateful toward them. It was one of your weaknesses he used in his favor to endear you to living with him, after all. What made Baby 5 think that, was what he wanted to know.

"Did she ever say that?” Doflamingo asked.

“No,” said Baby 5, shaking her head. “But... she gets sad a lot... and she seems to like being alone rather than with the rest of the officers.” She cast her gaze away, looking truly sad. “It reminds me of Corazón. He didn’t like hanging around any of us, either...”

Doflamingo was rather impressed. Baby 5 started truly being aware of her environment and how people act around each other. Her observation skills were getting very good for someone as young as her — even Buffalo, who was six years older than her, wasn’t this aware of people.

Doflamingo found his chest swell with pride.

“Don’t worry. Unlike with Corazón, I’m keeping a close eye on her. You forgot she’s a civilian. Civilians are terrified of pirates on instinct. All her life, she’s heard terrible stories about pirates, so of course she won’t feel safe with the officers, or Pica, Trebol, Diamante or me right away. We’re big, we fight, we kill, we rob, we torture, and we have Devil Fruit powers. Civilians run from that, because they’re powerless.”

“I forgot about that,” said Baby 5. “That she’s a civilian.”

Doflamingo laughed. “How so?”

“Because... She’s really fierce!” insisted Baby 5.

Doflamingo chuckled. “She was a marine’s wife. Of course she’s fierce. Just because she’s powerless doesn’t mean she’ll let herself be stepped on. It’s what I like about her.”

Yes. Doflamingo liked that about you very much. It turned him on. Very much. Doflamingo licked his lips.

“Why does she seem sad with me and Dellinger, too?” asked Baby 5, pouting.

“You’re orphans. You had nowhere to go, and became pirates. She pities you, because she thinks it’s unfair toward you. She’s sad because she knows that’s how cruel the world can be.”

“She pities us,” said Doflamingo, shrugging. “It’s not coming from a bad place like others do. Her pity is genuine. She doesn’t mean anything ill with it.”

“I don’t want her to pity us.” said Baby 5. “I want her to -”

“To what?” asked Doflamingo, tilting his head down to the girl, intrigued.

“To love us.” said Baby 5.

“Fufufu! She does love us. She’s just too stubborn to admit it. After all,” Doflamingo smiled. “No civilian is supposed to love pirates. That��d be treason.”

“Really?” Baby 5 asked, eyes full of hope. “She loves us?”

“Really. So don’t worry, okay?” said Doflamingo.

“Okay,” said Baby 5, her smile blooming back onto her face.

“Good girl,” he said, patting her head. “Now, go get me my merlot. And get yourself some bottled water, too.”

“Yes, sir!” chirped Baby 5.

While Baby 5 headed to the kitchen and the wine cabinet, Doflamingo cracked his neck, then got out of his pink sleeping bag. The sleeping bag beside him — where you slept last night — was empty.

He frowned. What was taking you so long in the bathroom? Maybe it was that time of the month for you. He knew there were supplies in the women’s bathroom, so he wasn’t too worried about that.

He’d give you a few more minutes before he went looking for you.

His long legs cracked as he stretched them out, same with his arms.

Baby 5 came back, carrying his bottle of wine and bottled water for herself. Doflamingo took it, undid the clasp, and chugged it down in droves, basking in the liquid pouring down his throat and into his stomach, warming up his body.

“Did you see my sister-in-law?” Doflamingo asked when he was done, bottle half empty now.

“I don’t know,” replied Baby 5 sleepily, rubbing at the crust in her eyes, giving a little yawn. “Maybe the bathroom?”

“Go wake the cook to make us breakfast and hot chocolate,” he said to Baby 5.

“Yes, sir. Um, Young Master...”

“What?”

“I think there’s someone on deck,” whispered Baby 5.

There was scraping on the deck outside. Doflamingo’s Observation Haki didn’t pick up any threat from the person. It could be a fishman or someone stranded on the island.

“It could be a Klabautermann,” said Doflamingo, chuckling. Now wouldn’t that be interesting.

“Klabautermann?” repeated Baby 5.

“It’s a legend.” Doflamingo explained. “If a ship is very loved by the crew, it develops its own spirit in the shape of a fairy.”

“Fairy?!” asked Baby 5 in excitement.

Doflamingo chuckled in confirmation, tracing his gaze over the officers and top officers strewn on the floor of the galley, counting everyone else who was present. You were the only one missing.

“A human-shaped fairy wearing a white sailor’s coat and a pair of shoes.” he explained. “It carries a small wooden hammer, because it fixes up a damaged ship. Ours isn’t damaged, though.”

At least, Doflamingo hoped it wasn’t.

“Oh,” said Baby 5. “I thought it would be a pink flamingo wearing Young Master’s sunglasses, just like the figurehead.”

Doflamingo laughed. “It could be! That’d be fun!”

“What if it’s a ghost?” she asked with slight fright; she’d heard too many ghost stories from Law and Buffalo.

Doflamingo gave Baby 5 one of his grins, the malicious ones which he knows comfort her. To Baby 5, violence equals protection.

“You think a ghost can beat me?” he asked her. “They’re free to try, fufufufufu!”

After some more coaxing and assuring her everything would be fine, Baby 5 left for the kitchen again to wake the ship cook.

Doflamingo grabbed his feather coat where it lay spread on the couch, stepping over a sleeping Gladius and Diamante.

Now, why were they all huddled up in the galley with sleeping bags?

The simple answer was bad weather.

They’d been in a heavy snow storm last night. It was Dellinger’s first heavy snow storm. He cried and ran around in a panic the entire time. He had to be grabbed three times from launching himself overboard and into the sea. Dellinger connected the sea with safety, because it was always safe for him to go into the sea; he always fled there if he was about to get scolded — it was becoming a real problem and at this point, Doflamingo was going to listen to Trebol’s advice and tie the toddler with a rope. If Dellinger went in the sea under those stormy waves yesterday, forget about pulling him out, they wouldn’t be able to find him.

For the past three years, they rarely went this far up north on their voyages, and although most of the adults of the crew were used to responding to and traveling through overbearing hail and rain, the kids were not. They were too prone to making mistakes in the novelty of navigating the waves bigger than Sea Kings despite knowing how to navigate.

The kids had been absolutely terrified.

The storm proved impossible to navigate. Doflamingo put his family and its safety above everything, he wasn’t going to risk them all because he wanted to get to the next island on time. He decided it was best to hunker down near a mountain pass to the closest island than continue to navigate through the storm.

After setting anchor on the nearby, snow-covered coast of the island, everyone had huddled down in the galley beside the largest fire stove to keep warm, bringing in sleeping bags.

Now, after putting on his black overcoat to deal with the cold outside, Doflamingo quickly opened the doors, left the cabin, and closed them just as quickly. He made his way up the stairs and to the cabin on the quarter deck, then exited out into the open winter air.

There was a person on the deck, pushing the snow down the deck and overboard into the sea.

Doflamingo nearly had a heart attack.

After a moment, he realized it wasn’t the ship’s spiritual manifestation.

It wasn’t a Klabautermann. It was you.

Doflamingo called your name. You leapt six feet high at the sound of his voice, which made him laugh. You deserved the fright; you gave him a fright first.

You turned your face up to him. Doflamingo smiled down at you.

“Hey,” you said shakily, like you weren’t out in the cold and shoveling snow from the deck. “Good morning.”

“What are you doing?” demanded Doflamingo.

You look at him like he’s asking a strange question. “I’m shoveling the deck.”

…

What?

“Why?” asked Doflamingo.

“Cause there’s snow on it.” you said.

For a moment, Doflamingo was so confused his brain stopped working.

Because there’s… snow?

Why on… why on earth would you be the one shoveling the snow?!

Doflamingo deployed his strings, leaving the wooden, ice-laden balcony of the quarter deck, reaching you with a single leap. He stood on his strings beside you, because he wasn’t going to walk on the solidified ice undoubtedly hiding under the layer of snow.

“You don’t do that.” said Doflamingo firmly, his thoughts racing thousand miles per hour, the cogs in his mind rushing with what could only be described as Celestial Dragon confusion. “I take care of you.”

“I’ve been doing this my whole life.” you say, shrugging.

Rosi, I’ll bring you back to life and put thirty bullets in you this time. thought Doflamingo, clenching his teeth, his jaw hurting from how hard he did it.

Doflamingo took the shovel from you easily.

“Hey!” you shouted. "I need that!"

“You don’t anymore.” said Doflamingo, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you with the sternness of a captain. He stepped down from his string onto the deck to stand in front of you — as he suspected, there was ice under the snow. “I take care of you now.”

“Doffy -” you started, but he would have none of it.

“You’re not allowed.” said Doflamingo, because what else is he supposed to say, how else is he supposed to let you know you are too precious to do grunt work? You are not to do any grunt work, ever, for as long as Doflamingo lived and breathed. His parents would roll in their graves if they ever heard he let you do any labor, and Doflamingo experienced a full-body cringe at the mere idea of allowing you to exhaust yourself. Unforgivable. Impermissible. Therefore, not allowed.

By his words, clearly you thought he thought you incapable because you are a woman, completely misunderstanding him as you said indignantly, “I am allowed -”

“You’re too cute to be out here in the cold, querida.” said Doflamingo.

Those words momentarily rendered you mute, and you stared up at him in shock, which made you even more adorable.

“I’m doing whatever I wanna do!” you protest, and it reminds Doflamingo of a bunny stomping its little foot on the ground.

“You get inside,” says Doflamingo, ignoring your words. You could think whatever you wanted, Doflamingo would rather put a sea prism bullet in his own leg than let you freeze outside and let you shovel the deck; he had Buffalo, Machvise and the others for that. Doflamingo wasn’t raised to allow you to do such things; he was raised to coddle you, provide for you, protect you, spoil you, and by his title as saint, he will. “I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”

The ship swayed under a wave, giving a small lurch.

The two of you slid on the solidified ice the deck had become overnight. It was only Doflamingo’s instincts and long arm that helped him grab onto you and pull you to his legs, keeping you from falling. You were completely unaffected, most likely used to such fumbling with Corazón — you didn’t even squawk in alarm, just took it like it was a common thing, to slide on the ice and risk falling and hurting yourself.

That was it. You weren’t listening to him. You were going to get a cold, and with your average civilian balance, break your skull. Time to change tactics.

“You made me do this,” said Doflamingo, sneering down at you.

“Do wha — AAAAH!”

Doflamingo reached down, wrapped his arm around your body, and lifted you up. Once he lifts you above his waist, and continues lifting you higher, that’s when you give an almighty, terrified shriek which startles the seagulls above the crow’s nest.

Doflamingo laughed, and put you stomach flat over his right shoulder, like he would a bag of gold, but you are a much more precious treasure he has than any gold.

There. Much easier. He should’ve done this from the start. Maybe he should carry you like this all the time. He smiled at the idea. Yes. That’s what he’ll do. You wouldn’t try to wiggle out of his grasp if he carried you this high; you’re too scared of hurting yourself by the huge height drop between his shoulder and the ground.

He straightened up, deployed his strings, and stepped onto them, walking on them rather than risk it with the ice.

“Doffy.” Your voice was shaky, terrified and breathless. Doflamingo failed to stifle his laugh. How adorable. “Doffy, put me down.”

You clutched at his spiked up, thick fluffs of hair. He sighed contently at the feeling, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he grinned.

“Doffy! Put me down!”

“You’re not allowed!” he said firmly, but calmly all the same. He wasn’t angry, just concerned.

“Because I’m a woman?” you asked.

“No,” said Doflamingo simply. “Because I take care of you now.”

“I take care of myself!” you say indignantly as you’re being carried away on Doflamingo’s shoulder and back toward the warmth of the ship’s below deck with warm heating, comforting sweat and frosted, fogged glass.

He really needs to make sure with Diamante and Machvise the Numancia didn’t take any damage.

Doflamingo hears a giggle in his ear. He recognizes the sound, from a far-away memory long gone. He whips his head over his shoulder, and freezes solid.

“Don’t worry, Doffy.” said the little boy with blond bangs covering his eyes. He was sitting atop one of the posts of the sail, his arms tucked into the sleeves of a little purple feather coat over his light blue raincoat. He’s swinging his little feet back and forth where they dangle in the air from the sail. Something strange wells in Doflamingo’s eyes. His throat clogs up; he can’t speak.

The little boy sent him a big smile resembling the sun. “I’m okay.”

Doflamingo was hallucinating. He was definitely hallucinating. He needed to catch up on his sleep if he was seeing his eight-year-old baby brother and hearing his voice in his ear.

He headed inside, ducking as he went.

Baby 5 was tucked in his pink sleeping bag, back to sleep. The duvet wasn’t pulled all the way over her, so Doflamingo used his free right arm and lifted his finger, sending out a string to the duvet, lifting it up to cover Baby 5’s shoulders. Doflamingo hoped she at least woke up the cooks and that they started on breakfast and hot chocolate for the family. Doflamingo manoeuvred around the sleeping bodies of his family, stepping over their sleeping bodies easily.

In the end, you settled down after he put you on the couch in the galley. He noticed your chattering teeth, trembling body and red nose. He clicked his tongue in disapproval, took off his feather coat and draped the massive weight of it over your shoulders. The pink feathers completely enveloped you, tickling your cheeks as you looked up at him in surprise, the warmth the feathers suffused you in chasing away your trembles.

Doflamingo didn’t linger on the way you looked up at him, bundled in his feather coat and drowning in his scent, because he was sure he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from leaning down and kissing your lips to chase away the cold frost from them, too.

Instead, he slipped your arms into the thick, warm fluff of pink feathered sleeves, pulling the lapels over each other to keep you warm.

The sleeves were too long for you, and the end of the coat touched the ground of the cabin.

He went to get you both some hot chocolate and brought it to you to sip on in warm cups. The blissed smile you smiled and the relaxed sigh you released after your first sip of the hot beverage put him in a better mood.

He settled himself beside you on the couch with his pink mug filled with his hot chocolate. His thigh touched yours. This time, you didn’t inch away from him as you usually did when he sat down beside you during meals or in inns.

Doflamingo would much rather have your lips to keep him warm, but he’d settle for hot chocolate. For now.

He took a careful sip, and his body relaxed. He closed his eyes, basking in the bliss, his forehead smooth, free of any stress.

Feathers settled around his left shoulder, and his left sleeve fell over his arm.

When he turned to look down on you, a teasing comment on his tongue and a grin on his lips, you were looking up at him, and your eyes rendered his thoughts into a disarray.

“So you aren’t cold,” you said, lifting your arm high and stretching it all the way to adjust the left side of his coat atop his shoulder, which consequently meant you got closer to him, until your left shoulder leaned against his chest; if you leaned a bit further, you’d be nestled under his right arm.

“How do you walk with this?” you ask him, fussing over the coat. “It’s heavy.”

“It’s only nine kilograms.” he said. It was a comforting weight on his back; he was used to having it draped over his shoulders.

You deadpan at him, then, after a moment, say, “No wonder your neck’s starting to crane.”

“Drink your hot chocolate,” he said.

You snickered. “Yes, captain.”

You hugged the right part of his feather coat to yourself, draping it over you, covering your legs and entire body in the pink feathers. Doflamingo wondered if you liked the lingering scent of his cologne on the coat.

“It’s warm,” you whispered, closing your eyes, peaceful.

Doflamingo slipped his left arm into the sleeve of his feather coat, draping the front of it the same way you did. The two of you were swathed together in his pink coat.

You were right. With you nestled against him and swathed in his coat, it was warm.

Doflamingo didn’t feel cold at all.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @queenmimi2817 @dummyduck44 @daydreamer-in-training

#one piece #donquixote doflamingo #doflamingo #doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doffy x reader #doffy x you #x reader #one piece x reader #op doflamingo #my writing #physics writes #fizzy writes

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sonicfanthenightfury5099 · 3 months ago

Note

Hello hello!

If it’s not too much to ask, may I please request some fluff/comfort reactions with Thomas, RZ Michael, bubba and whoever else you wanna add?

It would be about the reader going Into their room and ask the boys if they can spend the night with them because they experience real bad panic attacks at night. It sometimes get so bad that the reader fears that they will lose oxygen as they panic. (As someone who experience those regularly, it’s terrifying, so having our favourite big boy’s comfort would be great)

That’s pretty much it! :) hope this is okay❤️ thank you so much if you do get to this request, I love your writing so much!

As someone who also had panic attacks in High School I can see some of the boys spending the night with Reader.

Sorry this took so long to write this, I tried to figure out what write. I juggle alot in my head example I'm currently working on a rough draft of my future Webcomic

Enjoy this

Slashers Spending the night with You

Summary: You ask your boyfriend to send the night so they don't go through a really bad panic attack during the night.

Characters: Michael Myers (OG, RZ, and Peepaw), Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Saywer, Brahms Heelshire, and The Sinclairs Brothers

CW: Cuteness from the boys

Michael Myers RZ

When you ask him if he can stay home for the night, he gave you one his head tilts

He would usually go out and you stay home, but trying to sleep is hard

You tell him you get really bad Panic attacks at night, which have you scared of not be able to breathe

Alright I'll stay for the night

He seeing people having Panic attacks at Smith's Grove, especially one passing out from a attack

Wrapped in blanket and something warm to drink

A old monster movie playing on the TV as he puts his arm around your waist

Thomas Hewitt

Automatic Mama bear mode when you tell him you get really bad Panic attacks at night and have a fear of losing Oxygen as they panic

You can hold on to him like a teddy bear

Back rubs

You'll be falling asleep with him holding you close

Vincent Sinclair

Like Thomas, Mama Bear mode active

Warm blankets wrapped around the both of you in his bedroom

Candles lit to make it comfortable for you

Bo better not cause you to have an Attack

Brahms Heelshire

Before he showed himself has seen you have attacks at night (Brahms being Brahms) holding on to the doll

He eventually showed himself when you have a really bad episode

One extremely confused about a guy just came into your room, and Two who is he? Is it Brahms? You where told he died a long time ago

"Brahms?" You asked, he nodding as his reply

"Could you stay with me tonight? I need some comfort." You ask. "Yes." He replied in his child voice

He's holding on till the sun comes up

Michael Myers OG

Much like RZ Michael, your going to get one of his famous head tilts

Michael would just leave you home and when he gets back your still awake waiting for him

So that's why you stay up waiting for me, when you explain him about your Panic attacks at night

Guess he'll wait another night to hunt

He has became your weighted plushie in bed

He fell asleep afterwards

Bo Sinclair

Don't we sleep in the Same bed darlin?

He was going to check the gas station for a bit

"Is that why you have trouble sleeping?"

How about this, you can wear one of my shirts, I'll go down to the station and we can do anything you want

He comesback and your making popcorn while wearing his grey tee on

Watching a Documentary on the TV on Penguins

You fell asleep after that and he carry you to bed

Bubba Saywer

Relatable

Blanket Fort in the bedroom with some snacks

Watching a rerun on the TV in the bedroom

I recently watched the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre on the anniversary day

Lester Sinclair

"Oh my they get that bad?" He said when you told him about your really bad night Panic attacks

He normally doesn't go out at night but sometimes his brother ask him to come to the gas station to help out it

But tonight he can say in and listen to the radio

Snacking on jerky till you fell asleep

Jason Voorhees

Oh you poor bean

Much like Thomas and Vincent, Mama Bear Mode active

Warm blankets and warm drinks while having a Fire lit in the cabin

Eventually falling asleep next to the fire

Peepaw Michael Myers

Old man Head tilt

"Please stay in tonight Michael, I dont want to be alone tonight." You said to him

Putting on a old cheese romance movie to ease your nerves

He gags at some of the parts which makes you giggle

His turn, an old monster movie The Fly from 1958

He rubs your back while started to fall asleep

He carried you to the shared bedroom to sleep cause he started to get sleeply too

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l4ndon0rris · 7 months ago

Text

A Love for the Ages CL16

A collection of short stories of yours and Charles unique love story through the ages

pairing: Charles Leclerc x reader // sibling!Pierre a/n: i have a lot of this already pre-written in my drafts so there will be scheduled uploads regularly - each short flashback in time will begin with the same intro you see below - if you want to be on a taglist lmk

All eyes were on you, the white wedding gown that clung perfectly to your body, your impeccably crafted hair paired with flawless glowing makeup. There was no denying you looked ethereal standing at the altar gazing into his familiar eyes: those eyes that had comforted you, cried with you, looked at you with desire, had burned with anger and softened with apologies. The eyes that have witnessed dark days and brighter ones now bore into your own; you saw a flash of anticipation in them waiting for you to mutter the two words joining you together forever. Those eyes transported you back through everything that led you here, to this altar, holding his hands, about to embark on forever.

8 years old

You were a typical eight-year-old with lots of friends who all obsessed over the latest boyband, your parents’ victims to hours of being the audience for your self-choreographed dance routines to a variety of songs. You were lucky, in hindsight, to have so many friends around you at a young age. Sleepovers were your favourite thing to do for birthdays; Pierre, your older brother, was always allowed to have his own friend over for company whenever you had a sleepover. It was a rule that annoyed you at first - sleepovers were an only girls allowed territory - but Pierre and his chosen friend typically locked themselves in his room and played on his gaming console so you knew he wouldn’t interrupt.

You were running around behind your mother in an effort to help before your friends arrived; your mother was ensuring there was enough room for their sleeping bags, double checking the fridge was full of enough food and drink cartons and accepted your idea of placing the CD player in the spare room so you had enough room to practice your dance routines in private before the big show you would unveil later in the night.

“Charles is here!” Pierre exclaimed as he darted past you toward the front door to let him in. You followed your mother, choosing to linger in the nearest doorway as she greeted Charles’s parents taking his overnight bag from them and welcoming him into the house. You vaguely recognised Charles' round face from one of Pierre's racing weekends.

“Here you are, Charles. Have fun you two!” You spotted a hand ruffle the top of his brown head of hair, another handing him a gift bag he shyly took. Your mother and his parents exchanged numbers in case of emergency before closing the door. Charles stood with a gift bag adorned with a pink bow in his hand when he spotted you staring his way curiously; Pierre’s friends were usually all older than you but Charles looked younger, he had an innocence in his eyes that matched your own.

“Pierre said it was your birthday, so this is for you – happy birthday,” Charles politely spoke, walking toward you, the bag with the pink bow held out in front of him. Looking between the gift bag and your mother she silently encouraged you to give your thanks and ushered the three of you into the front room to place the gift bag on an empty table.

“We’ll put any presents here for now - that’s so kind of you Charles, thank you,” your mother reiterated, not quite satisfied with your shy mumblings of appreciation you gave. None of Pierre’s friends had ever brought you a gift before so this one was already your favourite out of them all.

“Let’s go upstairs and play my new game!” Pierre was already visibly bored, bounding up the stairs, Charles followed behind politely and gave you a small friendly smile you shyly turned away from.

“Let’s put some music on shall we? Your friends should be here soon,” your mother turned on the CD player you had already set up with three CDs to rotate between that would earn approval from your friends. You took the opportunity to peek inside the lone gift bag on the table, glittering pink wrapping paper in the shape of a box sat inside. You wondered what the strange new boy with brown floppy hair had bought you when he didn’t even know you.

Charles had undoubtedly intrigued you from the moment you first met him.

#f1 fic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine

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pocketjoong · 2 months ago

Text

Fashionable Fate

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You go to a launch event for a fashion line and end up seeing your boyfriend there.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING): Model!Hongjoong x fem!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. smut. fashion au. established relationship. nsfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS): joong and reader are whipped for each other. some angst. smut. hj giving reader a handjob! Not beta-read. Not even proofread tbh.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT): 3k-ish

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (A/N): I wrote this a LONG time ago and it's been sitting in my drafts for more than a year now... I don't honestly know where I was going with this one so... the ending might seem rushed, idk? Anyways, pls rb if you like it!

You’re glad you decided to attend the after-party for a launch event of a well-known designer. Perched on a stool at the bar, tucked away in the shadows, you find yourself captivated by him. He moves through the crowd with the same ease he wormed into your heart, greeting everyone like old friends, immersing himself in each conversation. It's as if he's the sun, radiating warmth and kindness, creating a safe haven for those around him.

You watch in awe as he lights up the room, becoming the centre of attention without even trying. There's something magnetic about him, drawing people in like moths to a flame. An involuntary smile graces your lips when he laughs at something said by the waiter who brings him a flute of champagne. And when he raises his hand to grab the stem of the glass, you suck in a breath when you notice the ring he’s wearing—a jade band encircled by a golden dragon that weaves in and out of sight. It warms your heart how he never takes it off, even when he walks for other brands.

Your eyes follow his hand as he brings the flute to the fullness of his lips and licks them before nodding at whatever the model he’s talking to is saying. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose to complete his fit, he looks regal, like a prince who lost his way and ended up at the wrong party despite being dressed in a satin shirt that is tucked neatly into his pants.

As if aware of your gaze on him, he turns his head, eyes locking with yours effortlessly. His eyes widen a bit as if noticing you for the first time during the course of the night. It probably is, for you had just arrived a few minutes ago and made a beeline for the bar; you needed a drink in your system before you could even think of mingling with the guests in the pretentious world of high fashion—a world you are a part of as well.

He excuses himself, not caring that he just cut off someone in the middle of the sentence and saunters over to you, only stopping mid-stride to put his glass of half-finished champagne on a table. When he reaches you, he smiles. The warmth of his gaze is the sun itself, igniting your soul in a way only he can. The closer he gets to you, the more his walls seem to lower—something that has always been reserved for you and only you. You wonder if he can feel it, the pounding of your heart and the way warmth blossoms in your chest every time you find yourself being the centre of his attention. Maybe he does, after all, if the way his smile gets wider is anything to go by.

“Starlight,” he greets you, bending slightly to slot his lips against yours in a soft kiss. He tastes like chocolate and champagne, and you find yourself chasing his lips when you break away from each other. Hongjoong smiles giddily, pressing his soft lips against yours once more and releasing a pleased hum when you suck lightly at his bottom lip. His knuckles come to graze your cheek when you lean away, a feather-light touch that leaves trails of fire in its wake, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“I didn’t know I’d be here, either,” you smile up at him, gazing into his caramel eyes hidden behind the slightly tinted lenses of the glasses he’s wearing. You notice that the crystals stuck beneath his right eye for the runway are still there, “Ella convinced me to go; something about being someplace that’s not my office or our apartment and getting a break from breaking my back at the workstation.”

Hongjoong chuckles, the sound reminds you of the smoothness of silk underneath your touch. Your fingers reach upwards to adjust his collar, a couple of buttons at his chest are undone, and the shirt is a bit too skewed to the left much to your distaste. When you tug at his shirt, it causes another round of fond chuckles to leave his lips, “It’s not your job, not here, not tonight.”

You shrug, moving the collar a bit so that the pendant he’s wearing can be seen properly, “Old habits die hard, mon chéri. I’ll not have you looking less than perfect even in the after-party of another brand. After all, just because you do shows for other brands doesn’t change the fact that you’re the face of La Vie en Rose.”

“Well, there’s no other place I’d rather be, as the face of your brand, your muse, or your lover. I don’t care as long as long as I get to be beside you,” Hongjoong whispers, brushing his nose against yours, his smile bright enough to rival the sun. At that moment, as you drown in his affection while he smiles boyishly, you are reminded that despite your achievements, despite the two of you being a force to reckon with in the fashion industry, you’re just two people in love.

“I’d not have it any other way, Joong,” you smile and then glance down at his hand, which has found a purchase against your waist. “I’m surprised Miyeon let you wear the ring.”

He snorts, finally settling down on the empty bar stool on your right. Hongjoong picks up the whiskey glass you had been nursing before he walked up to you and takes a long sip, humming in appreciation when the smooth taste hits his tongue, “Well, it was either she let me wear it or not get me to agree to the show. The lack of response to her ready-to-wear Fall collection after I refused to model for her show a few months back changed her mind.”

“You're evil,” you shake your head despite the warmth that blossoms in your heart. You know he knows how much it means to you, him not taking off the ring you painstakingly worked on—a gift for your second anniversary as a couple. You still remember the way his eyes teared up when he opened the jewellery box, at a loss for words as he studied the intricate detailing of the ring. But when he noticed the engraving on the inside, the lyrics to what you had dubbed your song, a sob broke free, and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow, thanking you over and over again with each press of his lips.

Hongjoong shrugs, allowing you to pluck the glass from his hand. You look at him from above the rim of the glass as you take a sip, biting back a smirk at the way his gaze lingers at your lips and moves downwards towards your neck as you swallow. When he looks back up to meet your eyes, you can't help but notice how they've darkened considerably.

You wake up to the gentle pitter-patter of raindrops on the windows. A cursory glance at the digital clock tells you it is past 6 a.m., too early for you to be awake. You can tell it has been raining for a while from the way the windows have fogged up. It’s chilly outside, you’re sure of it, but it’s toasty and warm in the room, mostly thanks to the way you’re snugly wrapped in a thick comforter, your limbs tangled with Hongjoong’s. He’s always warm, your personal little heater wherever you go.

You can’t help but smile at how the morning mirrors the day you met Hongjoong all those years ago; both of you were merely teenagers hoping to make your mark in a cruel world, stumbling through the days in search of your own path.

You walk along the Han River, trying to clear your head after the disaster that was today. You close your eyes to feel the breeze flitting across your face. You slept through your alarm, missed the train and the bus, and spilt coffee all over your white blouse. By the time you finally made it to the office, things went from bad to worse. Most of your designs were rejected, and then your computer crashed while you were writing a report for the head designer. Seven pages of work were gone in an instant.

Just when you thought the day couldn’t get any worse, the head designer dumped a huge new project on you that ate up the rest of your evening. You ended up staying late, and then the head designer had the audacity to take credit for your work during the emergency meeting with the organisers.

Despite being exhausted and frustrated, you take a detour and walk along the Han River for the sake of your own sanity. Little did you know that decision would come to bite you in your backside. Within minutes, the sky opens up and unleashes a torrent of freezing rain upon you, soaking you from head to toe. With a resigned sigh, you turn back towards the nearest bus stop, hoping to get home before the cold seeps into your bones.

But the universe has other plans. Halfway there, the wind picks up, howling through the trees and sending shivers down your spine. You wrap your arms tightly around yourself, trying desperately to generate some warmth. It's no use—you’re shaking like a leaf, teeth chattering together. Suddenly, the rain abruptly stops. You blink in disbelief, looking up to see that mere feet away, raindrops are still falling steadily. Confused, you look up, and your breath catches in my throat.

There, holding an umbrella above his head, is the most gorgeous boy you've ever laid eyes on—and that’s saying something because you work with models all day. Your gaze locks with his, and he gives you a sweet smile.

“I’m sorry for startling you,” his voice is smooth, you note. It reminds you of the warmth and richness of hot chocolate, and it is as sweet as one, too. “I just—you were walking in the rain, and since we seem to be going in the same direction, I’d feel like a horrible person if I didn’t at least do something, especially because you are shivering.”

You tilt your head, blinking up at him in confusion, wondering if people can be this kind. It has been a while since someone was nice to you without wanting something from you. You can’t help but tear up a bit, his kindness making your heart clench after the horrid day you’ve had.

“Thank you,” you say, but your voice breaks, making the boy gasp. His eyes widen, and he stutters out an apology, causing you to clear your throat. “I’m sorry, just—I had a horrible day, and your consideration sort of… made me tear up.”

“Oh? I don’t mean to overstep or anything, but you must work with terrible people if something as trivial as me sharing my umbrella made you so emotional.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Something like that. Though working in the fashion industry makes you kinda mean… especially with all the deadlines.”

“Oh, wow,” you can tell your answer is something he wasn’t expecting. “You work in the fashion industry too?”

“Too?” You frown, staring at him inquisitively.

“I’m a model, I’m still doing smaller shows right now, but I hope that I can walk for big brands one day,” he stares directly at you now that you’re at the bus stop. He can see you better now that you don’t need to worry about walking or getting drenched in the rain. You notice then that his caramel eyes are enchanting; there is a fire in them that you seem to have lost working under the head designer.

Sensing his curiosity, you decide to give him an answer, “I work for Aria…”

The male gasps, eyes shining like the stars in the night sky at the brand name that leaves your lips, “I bet you are very talented to work at Aria. Have you ever thought of starting your own label?”

You smile wistfully, “I have. I still have to learn a lot before I do that, though.”

“Well, I hope you get to do that,” his smile is dazzling, but his lips form a pout as he mulls over his next words. “Um… Would it be weird if I asked you to let me model for your label if you decide to establish your own fashion line?”

It is at that moment that the bus arrives, and you realise it is the one you’re supposed to take. You gasp, gathering everything and boarding the bus. Dropping your things on an empty seat and looking out of the window, you shout, “You’ve got a deal! I swear if you refuse to walk for my label after I establish it, I will haunt you in your dreams.”

The last thing you see is the boy laughing at your words and waving at you.

The sound of thunder overhead brings you out of your memories, and you smile at the male curled up right next to you. In the dim light of the rainy morning, he looks ethereal. His dark hair is messy from the way you had run your fingers through it last night after returning from the after-party. Unconsciously but gently, your fingers begin threading through his hair, eliciting a sigh from Hongjoong. He shifts, moving closer to press his lips against your collarbone before nuzzling his face into the curve of your neck.

“Good morning, mon chéri,” you chuckle, feeling him smile against your skin. “What’s got you all smiley this morning, mmhm?”

“We have the whole day to ourselves,” Hongjoong giggles, his hand brushing against the sliver of the skin of your back that is exposed by your camisole riding up. “I was thinking we could go visit Yeosang’s art exhibition.”

“Isn’t the opening around 6 p.m., though?” You wonder out loud, distinctly remembering the time on the invitations sent by Hongjoong’s long-time friend.

Hongjoong hums, “Yeo asked me to drop by earlier, said he would give us a tour of the place before the event if we want.”

“And you want to, don’t you?” You ask rhetorically, already knowing the answer.

“Please?”

“How can I ever say no to you?” You roll your eyes, shaking your head.

“Oh?” Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone. He leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers, “You can’t say no to me, huh? Even if I do this?”

Hongjoong's lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. You melt into him, your body pressing against his as you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours.

“Especially when you do that,” you breathe after you pull back slightly, forehead resting against his as you catch your breath.

Hongjoong's hands slide down your sides, fingertips grazing over the curves of your waist and hips before settling on your thighs. He pushes the covers down, exposing your bare skin to the cool morning air. You shiver slightly, goosebumps rising on your flesh.

"Cold?" Hongjoong murmurs, his voice husky with desire.

"A little," you admit, smiling coyly up at him.

Hongjoong moves closer, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. His hands continue their exploration of your body, sliding up your thighs and underneath your nightshirt. Fingertips brush against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you gasp and arch into his touch.

"Hongjoong..." you moan softly, your hands fisting in the sheets beneath you.

He responds by nipping lightly at your earlobe, tongue flicking out to soothe the sting. One hand slips higher, fingers teasing the edge of your panties. You can feel the heat of his palm against your core, and you press yourself against his hand, desperate for more contact.

Hongjoong chuckles lowly, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through your body. "Patience, love," he whispers. “I’ll make you feel good, I promise.”

His hand slips inside your panties, fingers parting your slick folds with practised ease. He circles your clit slowly, teasingly, drawing out a breathy moan from your lips. His other hand slides up your camisole, cupping your breast and kneading the soft flesh. Thumb and forefinger pinch and roll your nipple, sending jolts of electricity straight to your core.

“Fuck,” You gasp, fisting the sheets beneath you. “Just… ngh… like that.”

Hongjoong increases the pressure on your clit, rubbing faster and harder, matching the rhythm of your hips as they thrust against his hand. Two fingers slip inside you, curling and stroking your inner walls, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars.

Your head falls back against the pillows, mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. Hongjoong takes advantage of the position, latching onto your exposed throat and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Each action of his heightens your pleasure, and you're quickly spiralling towards the edge.

“M’close,” you warn him, one of your hands tangling in his silky locks.

"That's it, baby," Hongjoong encourages, fingers pumping faster while his tongue laves against your throat. "Come for me. Let go."

And with a final twist of his wrist, you do. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, muscles contracting and releasing around his fingers. Hongjoong doesn't stop his ministrations even as you ride out the waves of your climax. He continues to stroke and circle your clit, coaxing out every last bit of pleasure until you're trembling and oversensitive. Only then does he withdraw his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his mouth for a taste.

"Delicious," he murmurs appreciatively, eyes dark with desire. “What do you say we indulge ourselves a little before we head out and go see Yeo?”

You smirk, pulling him closer, relishing the feeling of his body against yours. “I love the sound of that,” you purr, your voice dripping with anticipation as your lips meet his in another kiss.

#cromernet #illusionnet #keopihausnet #ateez #hongjoong x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez imagines #ateez fic #ateez smut #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut #hongjoong angst

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